The Arrival of Isis Rion
As I walk outside my backyard with the warm sun beating against my skin, A strong movement pushes inside of my ripening, full belly, A warm stream of liquid rushes out of me past my panties and into my pants. A feeling of excitement that this is the beginning of what i’ve been waiting for so long it feels. What next? How long will this be? A few hours later, with mucous plug out, the consistent contractions start… Sometimes 12 to 14 minutes apart. I am anxious- not knowing what to expect. Slow steady breathing. A peaceful excitement fills me up. Contractions are consistent throughout the night. There is so much pressure on my back. My body is a little tired but filled with hope. Sunrise Morning walks up and down the stairs to the beach- contractions slowly growing stronger.. The pain in my back intensifies. My acupuncturist comes over, pushing needles into my skin that feels so sensitive. And this pressure- oh the pressure on my back… Please move so I can bear this.. I am nervous. Thinking if this back pain was gone I could do it… Hoping for release with this treatment. Still nothing… My midwife tells me if I do not go into active labor, with my water broken we must transfer her to the hospital. She recommends I take the “shit-shake” to get things moving. The thought of castor oil makes me gag already…. I have already thrown up twice, my body preparing to clear out and push out. Bring it on I say… As I chug down the first dose of coconut bliss and oil- my tastebuds surprisingly do ok with it. “that wasn’t so bad” i say… However the second dose., all I can taste is the thick oil sliding down my throat. I cannot consume this one as I had the last. With each sip i have to force myself to swallow. Then I wait. Diarrhea. Damn… I mean- I knew it was called a shit shake- but really? On the toilet off the toilet… on the toilet off the toilet…. Wasn’t this supposed to do something else? After I feel i have nothing left in my system i have a moment of rest. And then it happens. The intensity that I feel in my body makes my voice cry out in a moan that I did not expect. it has started. She is coming. My contractions are 6-7 minutes apart. With each contraction my body rivets in pain- my back feeling crushed by an invisible force. To survive each contraction I must dance. Move and circle my hips- squat up and down, hang on the ribosa, use Zach and Christi as my personal jungle gym. My brain is out of my body. I lose the concept of speech and communication all I can do is dance. Sometimes I cannot bear anyone to touch me and other times it saves me. As the hours pass by and day into night and night into day I am unaware of it. My midwife tells me I must lay down- but I feel I can’t. She makes me lay down, and the minute I do, I cannot bare it. I cannot breathe. I feel this is what death must feel like. She checks me… my daughters heart rate is down… she is worried and wants to transfer to the hospital. Inside I know she is ok and I must dance to survive this. I must keep moving. I must dance to be able to breathe for her so she may breathe…She checks again..Her heart rate is fine. My voice is hoarse, my moans weak, the pain still strong. And then- it happens I can’t help it as I hold onto the doorway, letting out a deep bellowed yell..bearing down and pushing as hard as I can. I take another deep breath and push with all my might. Finally for the first time in two days the pressure on my back is gone. Rest finally. I lay on my bed and comment I feel as if pushing is the easy part. Little do I know. With each contraction I push with everything in me, breathing long slow breaths. My sister holds up a mirror to my legs spread wide apart, shaking from exhaustion. After a few pushes, my midwife tells me to reach down to feel her. My hand glides to the side of my protruding belly to feel a warm, soft little bit of hair. I start to giggle and say “I knew, it”. With each contraction I muster up what strength I have left in me..I get to the point where it feels unbearable to push.. If I push any more I feel I will rip open my entire body. The pressure is so great and intense I want to run away from it, and yet I cannot resist it. It feels like forever, But finally I push through. The pressure is gone and this little tiny head emerges full of black curls. A couple more pushes and her body is out. I want to cry but I cannot. My body can barely move.. she is put onto my body. She is not breathing easily. I am floating above my body now, delirious and full of worry for her but i cannot utter a word. the midwife works on her until finally she lets out a belted yell. Relief. My heart can rest. She is given back to me and I attempt to let her suckle on my breast. She latches on and takes a few sucks. It is time for rest. After a hot shower I cannot move. I am slumped over in the bathtub in childs pose and can only whisper “help”. I feel like a child as the women dry me off and get me dressed, carry my body into the bed next to my sweet baby and Zach and we sleep Deeply. When I finally awake- I am overcome with emotion. I now have the strength to cry. She has brought out a strength in me I didn’t know I possessed. Zach and I weep as we hold her in our arms. “The word love does not do it justice! We need a new word!!” We cry. For the first time I understand what true unconditional love is.