Clare Bernadette's Birth Story

December 14, 2008

Feast Day of St. John of the Cross

One of my favorite scriptural passages for meditation during my pregnancy with Clare was from 2 Maccabees: "I do not know how you came into being in my womb. It was not I who gave you life and breath." I meditated often on this as I thought about the gift that God had given us. From our first view of her beating heart, we bonded as a family. This grew over nine months as we felt her first movement and found out she was a girl--we were carrying a daughter! Now we just had to wait to behold her.

The day Clare was born was originally planned to be a snowshoeing day in Seven Springs, Pennsylvania. [Jon: they were going to literally drop us off in the middle of the woods.] On Friday, December 12th Jon and I decided to drive a few hours away to go skiing; or, at least, Jon would ski and I would hang out in the lodge. As soon as I discovered that I could snowshoe, Jon and I began making plans for it. Admittedly, the ski school found it quite funny that a 9 month pregnant woman wanted to get dropped off in the woods in snowshoes, but they humored us so we planned on going the following Sunday after Mass. On Saturday morning we went to a cafe in Somerset called The Summit--a real Mom & Pops diner a little ways from the ski resort. All through breakfast I began noting regular contractions spaced about ten minutes apart. They were very mild. Jon was nervous to return to the slopes, but I felt very relaxed and preferred to stay and continue to enjoy the outdoors. Plus, it brought me a lot of joy to see how much Jon was enjoying skiing--a Danish Mexican on the slopes is a [hilariously] powerful combination!

All day Saturday I continued to have mild contractions. Thinking that they could just as well subside, I made dinner plans for 9:00 p.m. at one of our favorite restaurants. Around 6:30 p.m., the contractions became stronger. Although still very manageable, sitting down to dinner became less appealing, and well, snowshoeing was definitely out. We decided it was prudent to head back into Pittsburgh that night in case the contractions continued to progress. We arrived at our hotel in Pittsburgh near The Midwife Center late Saturday night. [It was at this point that Lauren preceded to call the guy at the front desk “mean” for jovially telling us that he could not make our stay any cheaper, even with AAA. Lauren  at this point must not have been in the mood for joking around.] All night Saturday I was awake noting regular contractions. Sunday morning they became more distracting. Around 6:30 a.m., Jon and I decided to order room service. [It came just in time!] At about 7:00 a.m., before breakfast arrived, my water broke. Still, labor could be hours and hours away. We decided to call the midwife on call, but stay to have breakfast. Sitting on the floor, and between bites of oatmeal, I continued to have contractions that were definitely more intense. After breakfast, we made our way over to the birth center and arrived around 8:00 a.m. [Just before leaving, I Jon, had spoken with the Doola about Lauren’s contractions. Without letting Lauren know, because her contractions were moving along at a rather alarming pace at this point, I was given instruction to prevent her from attempting to push out Clare in the car.]

Our doula [Doola] met us there…[I must add that while we were walking from the car, Lauren had to stop and hug the wall of a nearby building and pray. I knew that Clare was getting closer]... and since the midwife had not arrived yet I continued to labor in our doula’s van in front of the center. [I meanwhile stood outside in the cold, way too charged up to sit in Teresa’s van (the Doola). Instead I loitered around the birth center doors, hoping to catch the first glimpse of our nurse’s chrome VW hood ornament glimmering in the winter morning’s light, bearing the hope that our daughter might be born indoors (or at least not in a van).] I managed to have a decent conversation about making your own bouncy balls with her seven-year old son Simon without having him see me struggle too much through what was now active labor. The midwife, Gloria, arrived in her street clothes (one detail which set me at ease) around 8:30 a.m. so we made our way inside. [Lauren, the moment we entered, declared to everyone that she was to be the “supporting actress” in the events about to unfold. Clare would of course be our star. She seemed so relaxed (in the middle of transition!) that what was about to be discovered shocked everyone...save myself.] It was a beautiful cold Sunday morning and the room we were having her in was painted a cool blue that accented the silvery winter day outside. The ceiling even was a decorative Victorian pattern that caught your eye and made you feel like you were in an oceanside hotel. [The three rooms at the birth center are themed, so we had previously chosen to birth in the “ocean room”].  I felt very happy in that room, maybe too happy because everyone was surprised when the midwife checked me and announced that I was already dilated to 8 centimeters! [I knew it!] It was so motivating to know that I was already so far into labor and still doing so well. Because of our support team, the environment, and how happy we were to be having Clare, we both felt very relaxed and focused. We couldn’t have asked for a more soothing place to give birth. It was also very quiet since it was Sunday.

After spending very little time laboring in bed, our doula suggested that I take advantage of the jacuzzi tub that they had in the attached bathroom. That sounded great to me! I was surprised that we were already pulling out the “big guns” and asked the doula if it wasn’t too early to use what I considered to be the most effective coping option. She said no: this baby was on her way and faster than I was expecting. So Jon put on his trunks and we entered the hot tub. [I was dressed in nothing but a swimsuit for the entire birth process.]  I loved resting my body against Jon’s and using his confidence and peacefulness to stabilize myself through some of the more demanding contractions. [To give you a clear picture of how this worked, I lay in the tub first and then Lauren lay against me. Then we simply held each other in the water with our faces pressed side by side. When Lauren would have a contraction she’d move in closer to me and begin to pray. It was very peaceful to watch. As her contractions would crescendo, I kissed her and told her that I loved her and that I was proud of her for all that she was doing for our daughter. In response she would calmly pray and embrace my body]. Since I was not hooked up to electronic fetal monitoring, my cue to everyone that I was having a contraction was a profusion of prayer. I thanked God for the gift of our child. I asked St. Therese for her intercession. I thought of the Immaculate Heart of Mary. I mediated on the Passion. Over and over I repeated what I had heard so many times in my principles of biblical study class with Dr. Hahn: Suffering without love is unendurable and love without suffering is impossible. I had already offered my intentions earlier and was happy to suffer for love of Clare.

Within what seemed like a short time [it was], I felt the urge to push and was determined to be fully dilated. With Jon’s arms around me, my pushing took on a rhythm of its own. I surrendered to the contractions as they radiated down my legs and decided that no matter what I was having Clare at the birth center--no transporting me to a hospital at that point otherwise the thought passed through my mind that I would have Clare either on the sidewalk [this almost happened] or a stretcher! We spent most of the pushing phase in the jacuzzi but since no midwife in Pennsylvania is licensed to manage water births, I had to get out for the final pushes. [It should be mentioned that Lauren did try one last time to convince the midwife to let us deliver in the water, however, once we were informed that she could help prevent tearing better if we were on the outside of the tub we were persuaded to make the difficult journey from the hot-tub to the bed nearby.] The hardest part about moving to the bed was the few seconds that I was apart from Jon since he had been such a reassuring presence for me and his constant touch was so important to helping me relax through contractions [but I was back by her side momentarily].

Once on the bed, I was guided to push whenever I felt like it using each contraction as an impetus. I loved self-directed pushing and enjoyed taking in deep breaths and rhythmically moving with each round of pushes. It felt like riding waves that would rise and ebb. I kept my eyes closed through almost all of this so that I could focus and not regress. Near the end of my final pushes, Jon moved to the end of the bed so he could catch Clare. [That I did. I really did not “catch” her as much as I yanked her out and placed her on her mother’s belly.]The midwife did an excellent job supporting Clare’s passage. I was thankful to know that the care there did not involve episiotomies and even though Clare presented with her hand on her face, I only had superficial tearing with two stitches. As she came out Jon reached in for her--the first to touch her--and placed her immediately on my abdomen. [See, it’s true.] We admired her and rejoiced in her beauty...Meanwhile, Clare just wanted to nurse! Jon cut the umbilical cord [which was oddly beautiful] and thus transitioned us all from pregnancy to the beautiful interdependence of parents and child. 

Clare was born at 10:33 a.m., only two hours after we had arrived at the birth center. She weighed 6 lbs 14 ounces and was 20 inches long. She came with beautiful dark hair, wide blue eyes, olive skin [well, it was another color at first, but she did fine once they brushed her face with some oxygen], and the most beautiful face we had ever seen [she could be a baby model]. She looked just like we imagined her and we were so overjoyed to finally have her in our arms. Having delivered her in the unlikeliest of places on the strip in downtown Pittsburgh, we look forward to the day when Clare will proclaim herself a “Picksburger.”[Clare will forever be able to say that she was born on a mattress in a seedy part of downtown Pittsburgh.]

This is only the birth story of our Clare and we hope that in dedicating her to Jesus through Mary that her life story be one that is wholly abandoned to God and His ardent love for her. She was truly weaved by God within me and we are full of gratitude "For the life that is given to us by the Lord is enough for us" Tobit 5:18-19.