Sebastian‘s Birth Story

The story of Sebastian’s birth actually starts way before he was born. Before he was even conceived. I knew for a while that we wanted to have a third child. I had dreams and premonitions about this child. Messages from the other side saying I needed to clear my ancestral trauma before I conceived. It occurred to me that there was actually quite a bit of trauma surrounding birth on both sides of my family. I recalled my Nonna telling me her birth stories of her children (my mother and my uncle), who were born in the 1940s, during a time when it was commonplace to knock out mothers and have them wake up with a baby. When my Nonna told me her stories, I remember recognizing how much unprocessed pain she had surrounding birth and it made me sad. My paternal grandmother, whom I never knew, had preeclampsia with both my dad and my uncle, had two c-sections and she nearly died. Trauma that is not healed and processed is passed down to the next generation, so it is no surprise to me that my mother also had two c-sections, and so did I. 

I knew that if I was going to have a third baby and have a chance at a vaginal birth (which I have always wanted) that I was going to have to put in a lot of work. The work began spring of 2020 when I leaned into my spiritual community for support when everything shut down. I was able to do a virtual guided meditation for clearing ancestral trauma and it was extremely powerful. During the meditation, I was able to see all my ancestors on both sides of my family, many of whom I did not know. The amount of pain they carried was tremendous and overwhelming. When it came time to clear the trauma, I felt within my body this incredible pain in my womb. It was worse than any pain I had ever felt and I instinctively felt called to massage my belly in circles, as I laid there sobbing on my bed with my eyes closed. After what felt like several minutes, I felt the pain vanish immediately. It lifted like a heavy cloud after a storm. I wiped the tears from my face, opened my eyes, and knew I had just taken the first step toward healing. 

Time went by and I discovered in July 2020 that I was pregnant with our third child. I was so happy. I contacted my midwife and friend, Lisa Marie, to share the good news. Not only is early prenatal care important, but with the state of the world at the time I knew more people would be seeking homebirth to avoid birthing in a hospital, and I wanted to make sure I had her as my midwife! 

Lisa Marie had several suggestions for me in order to assure the best possible outcome in trying for a homebirth after two cesareans. The first one was seeing if I could get in at least 5 sessions of EMDR therapy. I had done five plus years of traditional talk therapy and felt like I had worked through quite a bit of trauma. I wasn’t sure if or how EMDR was going to make much of a difference, but oh, how wrong I was. 

It is my sincere wish that everyone can experience EMDR to swiftly move through and heal from traumatic experiences. I was floored, when on my second therapy session, I was able to completely heal from a deeply traumatic experience at the age of 5. I was able to swiftly move through other traumatic experiences that I felt might prohibit me from having a vaginal birth, and by session 7 I felt complete. 

Next on my list was healing my physical body. I got incomparable chiropractic care from Dr. Anastasia Lander and transformative physical therapy from Dr. Heather Thomas. I was able to heal from my perpetual left sciatica pain, work through scar tissue on my lower abdomen from my previous cesareans, and stay aligned in my body through my entire pregnancy. One of the biggest contributing factors in having baby be in the best position was doing daily squats in the last trimester. 

I felt wonderfully ready. The last step was preparing my birthing space. I made art, hung up birth affirmations, and placed photos of my female ancestors, whom I knew would be with me when I went into labor. My godmother Carol, my grandmother Dorothy, my Nonna, and my great aunt Irene all went on my wall. 

The day before I went into labor I had an intuitive sense that this day’s activities would be the last thing I did before I gave birth. I drove out to Orange County and I was able to spend time with my friend TJ and sing a duet with him, and then I received my last acupuncture session to help me go into labor. 

I woke up the morning of April 7 like any other morning. I had to pee pretty badly, so I rolled out of bed like I usually do, headed to the toilet and ended up pooping twice, which I thought was kind of odd. At 9am, I stood up from the toilet and felt water trickle down my legs: my water had broken. Initially this had been one of my biggest fears— my water broke with Ethan before I went into labor with him and I remember it scaring me a lot. When it happened this time, I felt a sense of peace and calm. I hollered downstairs to Alex that my water had broken, and he said, “wait, are you serious??” I shoved some paper towels between my legs and decided to go about my business before labor started.

We were all able to eat a nice big breakfast— our last meal as a family of four. We sat down and watched Disney movies as Alex prepared the birth space in the living room. The contractions started to come on, gradually at first, but then building in intensity. I distinctly remember moaning through one of them, and little Ethan came over to me, held my hands, moaned right along with me too, and then kissed my belly. My birth team soon came. The tub was blown up and filled with water. Alex drove Ethan over to my in-laws. Juliet held space for me and was motivating and encouraging. 

I laugh, because I spent so much time creating a labor playlist for me to listen to, and I never ended up using it at all. I didn’t even want to listen to it. It turns out what I wanted was for Disney musicals to be playing in the background. I labored through Newsies, and Mary Poppins Returns. At some point in the evening, the labor sounds I was making started to sound kind of funny. I remember hearing myself make these squeaky high-pitched noises and I legitimately felt like I was in pain. As my midwife said, “there’s labor pain and there’s abnormal pain. This is abnormal pain.” When my midwife went to do a cervical check, she said she felt some sort of polyp, which would explain the pain I was experiencing. We all collectively made the decision to transfer to Loma Linda hospital for pain relief. 

Alex took Juliet to my in-laws after the cats and dog were fed and our necessary belongings were packed up. Lisa Marie drove me with the student apprentice, Sara, in her giant van, Vandalf, to Loma Linda hospital and I have never been so grateful to be able to lie down in a bed on a drive. 

We pulled up to the emergency room drop off point right next to an ambulance and Lisa Marie informed the employees that we were a homebirth transfer and they were expecting us. Someone came out with a wheelchair right away. Sara came in with me while Lisa Marie went to park the van. They put me in triage first, gave me a Covid test (negative), and I was given a cervical check by the attending physician, Dr. Gonzales, who was just lovely. I was at about 7 cm. 

I was becoming unglued. I needed an epidural and I needed it right now. The pain was so intense I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I was barely coping with the contractions. I felt like I was falling apart. It seemed like ages before we finally got into a room and I met the anesthesiologist, who was a genuinely lovely person. About 15 minutes after the epidural was administered, I finally felt relief. I was told to rest and try to sleep, because I would need it once it came time to push, but I just couldn’t sleep. I could feel my body moving into transition, and I could feel the pressure of the contractions without the pain, and my body started to get the shakes (a common feeling during transition). 

Somewhere around 2am, Dr. Gonzales came to check me again and she said I was at 9cm and I would be ready push within the hour. I was shocked. I couldn’t believe this was actually going to happen. I had gotten so close two times before (stuck at 7 and 8cm) and here I was about to push very soon. I couldn’t believe it. I felt myself wishing I had been able to sleep. 

Pushing started at 3am. We would wait for a contraction to peak, which was difficult to feel for since I was numb from the waist down. I had to do directed pushing, which really sucked. I was told to put my chin down, hold my breath and bear down. Bear down on what? I can’t feel anything! This was such a frustrating situation. But I did as I was told. I was doing my best. And the time dragged on and on and it felt like it would never end. I was exhausted. I kept staring at the clock and time felt like my enemy. Somewhere around 6am the epidural wore off. I was feeling everything. Finally, I could feel! Oh God, I could FEEL. I knew I had the option of adding more epidural medication with the touch of a button, but I also knew it would make things more difficult. I had to push through this. 

During the pushing, I am quite certain that it is the most anyone has ever cursed ever in any time ever. I’m no stranger to cursing by any means, but the amount of “motherfuckers” and “cocksuckers” that flew out of my mouth during that time period were unreal. 

But back to the last hour of pushing. I was struggling between wanting to pant and breathe and moan and not knowing what the bloody hell I was supposed to be doing. How could I possibly get this baby out, and am I even pushing hard enough? What is pushing too hard? I don’t want to burst a blood vessel in my face! All of these thoughts were running through my head at lightning speed. 

I called his name. “Sebastian!” I wept, “Please, please come out! I want to see your little face!”

Just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, when I felt entirely faint and dizzy from accidentally hyperventilating, I heard an encouraging nurse from my right say “no no no, you can do this!! Go!! You’re almost there! Go go go!!” And I PUSHED. Out he came and up onto my chest with the most surprised look on his face. He looked about as surprised as I did. I was overwhelmed. I did it. I fucking did it. Oh my god, I actually did it. 

After the cord turned white, Alex cut the cord and Sebastian was taken to the nearby warmer where he was wiped down and suctioned. He had a ton of fluid in his lungs and it took a bit for him to breathe and cry and then he was fine. 

My beautiful baby boy. I had another son. And I pushed him out of my body. A feat that had seemed next to impossible after having had two cesarean births. I know that I couldn’t have done it without all the hard work I had put in over the past year, and had I not had a wonderful, supportive birth team.