Ask Me About My Uterus
By: Meghann Mcniff
Tags: Life Lessons, Parenting, Motherhood, Pregnancy, Birth

There was a rhythm now.

She had been starting for days, but this was different.

A week before, when I walked into the kitchen, my cervix felt less stable. Later that day the midwife confirmed I was 1cm, and this was the best news I’d ever heard.

Starting labor with a cervix that’s starting to dilate is like winning the lottery for a first time mom (long early labors often happen because labor starts and the cervix isn't ready to open).

I was 41 weeks and 6 days pregnant. I had wondered if I was procrastinating. Maybe I wasn’t ready. Maybe I would never be ready. Could she say in there forever?

I knew part of me wanted her to stay right where she was, inside my body, where she was safe and I could sleep through the night.

4:40am

Scott heard me groan.

Is this it?

Yes.

What can I do?

Snuggle me please.

He curled up behind me. Taking his place as the big spoon.

As I melted into him, I knew, this is the last snuggle we will ever have as a couple without a kid.

5am.

I had to get up.

Should we call the midwives?

Not yet.

I lit my candle and texted Sara, “It’s time.”

I emailed the midwives, “Early labor.”

In the tub I could cope.

I thought about what Julie said, about surfing on top of the contraction. I remembered Women and the Waves, and I imagined the first female surfer at Wimea bay.

But that scared the shit out of me.

Then I was in scorpion bay. Belly on my board, looking over my shoulder. As I felt my uterus begin to warm up for another contraction, I imagined a wave rolling towards me. I heard Kevin, my friend (and the best surf instructor I’ve ever had) say, “This one’s yours.”

I turned my eyes to the cliffs past the shore, and waited for him to push me. I felt the push, and the wave catch my board, and at the crest of the contraction, I stood up — and rode down the face of the wave. As it ended, I let my body sink into the water.

What I’m so glad, and grateful, I didn’t have to learn the hard way — is that I had to let every muscle in my body go, or the contraction wouldn’t end. Early labor is like this.

Until you can push — it’s just surrendering again and again and again. Coping and letting go, again and again and again — until its over.

And it will end. Luckily I had a lot of training, and I have been to lots of births. So I believed, I remembered, I had confidence, I knew it would end.

There was nothing but the slow rolling waves, the gentle push, the jump, and the ride down. There was nothing else, until this stopped working too.

6am

Its time to call the midwives

Okay, can I finish making my coffee?

No, it’s time to call.

The midwife said to call back in an hour or if anything changes.

Okay.

7am

It’s time to go. Page the midwife.

I can meet you at the birth center at 8, does that sound like a good plan Meghann?

Okay.

7:03am

Wait, 8am? NO fucking way. We are going now.

She says she can’t get there until 8.

Fine, we are going now. I’d rather labor on the curb than in traffic.

7:30am

And then I did.

Scott is on the curb drinking his coffee. I’m half in the car, half out, in something resembling child’s pose — wearing a florescent pink terry cloth robe, whimpering between contractions, “I want to get in the tub so bad.”

People are walking by on their way to work, not making eye contact with Scott.

Luckily I had breaks. Between every contraction was a few glorious minutes of rest. And then I felt it coming again. It will pass, it will pass, it will pass, I said again and again as I surrendered again and again…

8am

Meghann, your only 5cm.

Okay, can I get in the tub now?

I should have been disappointed.

Active labor doesn’t start until you are 6cm dilated.

I wasn’t disappointed.

Nothing existed except the tub.

I’m always opinionated, but in labor I was a drill sergeant:

Close the curtains.

Turn off the lights.

Stop talking.

Get me that stool.

More pillows.

There’s a line in one of the hundreds of birth videos I’ve watched that says a birthing woman needs to be surrounded by people who love her, and believe in her and remind her of her strength. The tenderness between the laboring woman and her partner, doula and midwives makes me cry every time I watch it. I’m teary just thinking of it.

I needed exactly that, I needed them all to be there. They were my protection, my life line.

But no touch. No light. No sound.

That surprised me. I didn’t expect to labor that way.

8:20am

Uuuuuuuuuuh.

I couldn’t not push.

Okay you are 7cm now. I know you can’t help that, but try not to push yet.

No, stop. No pictures.

STOP talking, pleeeeeeaese.

9am

Can I sit on the toilet?

Sure, let me check you first. Ok Meghann, you are complete.

That didn’t register.

Can I get on the toilet now?

When I was settled, and resting on a pile of pillows on the tank of the toilet my friend whispered in my ear, “Sweetheart, you’re complete”.

And I heard it.

Holy shit, I can push now.

9:30am

Meghann what you are doing is fine, but I want you to know that you throat is going to hurt tomorrow if you keep making that sound.

ok, ok, ok, ok, ok, ok, ok….uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuooooooooo

As I collapsed back onto the pillows, I heard a woman laboring in the room next door.

Dear God I can’t take it if she has her baby before me.

10am

Can I try the bed now?

Sure.

I laid down, and for a glorious moment I thought I might sleep.

Meghann we have to roll you over.

Meghann we have to get you up, baby doesn’t like this position.

The birth stool was next to the bed.

They gave me an oxygen mask and it made the world bigger.

I just wanted to sit there and breathe.

Meghann I think it’s time to call 911.

The thought of sitting in a cold, hard, sterile ambulance by myself made me want to break in half.

Can’t we just do it here?

I think you have another 30 minutes of this and I’m expecting we will have to do a resuscitation. I think it would be better for baby to be at the hospital.

And then I surrendered again.

Okay, I trust you.

I reached in and felt her head. It was less than an inch away.

I should have been scared, but it didn’t feel like anything was wrong. I didn’t believe anything was wrong.

And I just wanted to be done. I would have done anything to be done — I just wanted to lay on the bed, and hold my baby.

Okay baby likes this position much better. That’s a good heart rate.

And then I pushed. Just like I had been for over an hour.

But this time, her head came out.

She was pink.

Her eyes were open and she had the most curious look on her face.

And she was looking right at her Daddy.

10:29am

Baby girl Barrett Thomas Schell entered the world — gently, safely, and when she was good and ready.

7lbs and 9oz of pure perfection.

And then the most amazing thing happened.

We were parents.

Forever.

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I am a personal coach and co-founder of the Seattle Coaching Collective. We are available in-person in Seattle, by phone and online. If you are interested in learning more, drop us a love note here.

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If you want to read more, check out five of my most popular stories on Medium.