Our baby's due date was always more of a "window" of time than a particular day. The ultrasound agreed with what we were calling my last menstrual period (which was a bit of a mystery), and dated us for May 26th. We were quite sure we conceived September 9, on a beach we nicknamed "Conception Bay" on the north shore of Vargas Island.

When May 26th came, I was not surprised that I was not in labor. I wanted a June baby anyway, for some irrational reason, and I wanted the baby to wait until my best friend arrived a few days later. Our midwife, wanted us to "encourage" labor by using evening primrose oil, walking and having sex. I waited until well into that first week to do so, not wanting that baby quite yet. Then my friend Anne came, and we all hoped and prayed "this would be it. " But after a few days, Anne left, and still no baby.

We were now a week "overdue", and I was disappointed. The first week I was happy the baby hadn't come, the second I was more than ready. Knowing, of course, you can t control these things, I still wanted to believe I had some influence! My midwife said that if nothing "happens" by the end of the second week, we will need to do an ultrasound, check on the baby, and maybe induce labor. We reminded her that we thought the ultrasound dates were early compared to our date of conception. She agreed, and said we could change the due date to June 1st, since that was within a week of the ultrasound date and therefore still medically acceptable. So now we weren't "overdue" at all -- although we had been anticipating this baby for a week already -- and as the second week continued, Marty and I began to wonder if the baby would ever come.

On Sunday night, June 6th, as I went to bed, I started having Braxton Hicks' contractions. They intensified enough that I found it difficult to sleep -- whether from excitement or discomfort -- or both! -- I kept thinking, "this baby's coming!!" I lay awake on and off, anticipating, excited, but woke in the morning, no labor, a little disappointed. The next night, I started having contractions again. They weren't as intense, and I decided I wasn't going to lose sleep -- because if this was "it", I'd need the energy, especially after the sleepless night before. Again, I awoke, disappointed.

On Tuesday morning, contractions resumed. Very mild, widely spaced -- but they were there! Again, I was excited. I was ready. But again, they faded into nothingness.

I went to my chiropractic appointment. She said at my last appointment (10 days previous) that the chiropractic adjustments often start labour within 24 hours -- I hope so! At least my spine would be aligned, which should help labor progress smoothly if it did begin!

When we returned, we decided to have sex to see if we could jump start the contractions again. It worked! That was about 3 pm. Then we went for a quiet walk down our street, to encourage them. We both were wondering by now whether we would ever really experience a birth, and were reluctant to call the contractions "labor", since we'd had false alarms over the last 2 days. We talked to our neighbors but didn't tell them I was in labor, lest we "spook" the contractions ....

We decided to call our midwife since we had an appointment scheduled for 5 pm, and wondered whether it would be better for her to come to us because I was concerned that getting in the car might stall things. She said yes, she and another midwife would be over.

We told her what had been happening. Of course, my contractions seemed less intense when they arrived, and I wondered whether I was making it up, and would be resigned to waiting again. My midwife then did a vag exam, said my cervix was 2 cm dilated and effaced, softening and ripe, and YES, I was in labour!! They said to keep laboring, and to call at 9 pm to check in, or when we were in "active labour." We asked her what the difference was. She smiled and said, "more pain."

We called Shari McDonald, our friend who would be labour support and photographer. Marty and I labored together until she came about 8:30 pm. Contractions were getting more intense. I remember thinking, "This hurts, but I can handle this .", knowing that in all likelihood I wouldn 't remain so comfortable and calm! We called our midwife at 9pm. She said it sounded like things were going well, and to page her when we needed her, or when we were in active labour. We lit candles, had world music CDs going round and round, Shari began taking pictures, ... and we laboured. The 3 of us spent the night, mostly in our bedroom and some in the living room, going through contractions together. Shari took a short rest, since she was exhausted from a Zimbabwean music festival the weekend before. Marty was with me for every contraction, doing whatever he could to help me through each one -- pressing on my hips or lower back, breathing and sounding with me -- I was so grateful and impressed with how present he was.

I remember being very anxious about laboring through the long, dark night. But the hours kept flying by -- every time I'd look at the clock, it would be an hour later. And although contractions were getting very intense, I kept thinking, "I don't want to call my midwife prematurely" -- and have her say, "good work, you're 1 cm dilated! Keep going!" I also thought there's nothing they could do. My uterus has to soften and open, and we're doing the work. I figured they'd be better off getting sleep at home than sitting here in the dark watching me go through each contraction. We did, however, keep pouring over our prenatal class handouts trying to figure out whether and when I was in "active labour".

By about 4:30 am, when the sun was just beginning to bring light, I began to be overwhelmed with the pain, and told Marty I needed "something else." "Call the midwife!!" I needed moral support to go on. Some sign that this baby was coming, that this work was working! By this point, when my contractions would start and Marty would go to check his watch before putting his hands on me, I was irritated, and told him to "Forget the watch!!"

The two midwives showed up within a half hour or so. My midwife did a vag exam again, and said I was 4, nearly 5 cm dilated!! I was ecstatic. And relieved. Labour was at least progressing. She said the next step was for my waters to break, and encouraged me to squat during contractions, and do some side-lying in bed. For what seemed like the next hour and a half, Marty and I did deep squats, sounded, sat on the toilet, tried side-lying .... but no waters broke. I was getting very frustrated and discouraged, thinking I wasn't "woman enough" to do this, couldn't get my waters to break, couldn't handle the pain. I started secretly thinking, "Why can't they just give me ibuprofen?!" and wondering whether I wanted -- or needed? -- to go to the hospital for drugs.

I remember hearing the midwives and Shari laughing in the kitchen, telling stories -- thinking, "how can they be having a good time?!" My midwife came in periodically, encouraged me, but eventually I told her I was struggling. She said she was thinking it was a good time to break my waters, if I wanted that. I asked her what that would do. She said it would make labour "more intense." I shrank! Marty asked, "Won't it have to go there anyway?" she said yes, it would speed up the labor. She said it was a question of "whether I wanted the baby sooner or later." I said emphatically, "Sooner!

So she did another vag exam, and said yes, it was a good time to break waters; I was about 7 cm dilated. Yes! I can go on. She stuck a knitting needle-like stick inside me, gave a little nick, and out came a gush of liquid. I felt some relief just with the change in pressure or volume. And the first contraction felt easier. I thought, "this isn't so bad!! "And then they came on with a vengeance. Like a high speed journey to somewhere I didn't want to go!!

Shari meanwhile spent hours warming water on our stove and filling the inflatable tub in our living room. I thought I would want to labor in the tub, perhaps even deliver in there, because women looked so much more comfortable giving birth in the support of water. At this point, I said I didn't care -- just tell me what to do!

My midwife had me squat on the gorgeous birth stool Marty made for us. I remember her telling me to "relax into it" rather than pull away from the pain. I told her I didn't think I could. It was too intense. I can see now in the pictures how I was trying to lift up off the chair, rather than sink into it. I also remember her coaching me to go deeper with my voice, follow Marty's lead -- and I was surprised because I thought I was -- but realized my voice was higher, also trying to "escape" the unescapable and necessary pain.

She said soon you will want to push and to let her know when that was. I said "now," although the feeling was faint. I was sitting on the toilet, and I just wanted to get to pushing to get this baby out!! She had the second midwife called, the assistant midwife who had to be there for pushing. The feelings quickly intensified and I really wanted to push. I heard her say to get the second midwife to come right away and cancel her appointments. YES! I was so excited to hear that. I knew that meant this baby was coming soon.

Almost the whole labour, during contractions I went inward, closed my eyes, focussed internally. By now, though, I couldn't do that, and depended on Marty behind me, and my midwife holding my hand (me squeezing hers) with solid eye contact, to make it through each contraction. I'd scream for her if she wasn't there when I felt them coming.

I couldn't wait to see the back-up midwife, and when she came in I was on my way to the toilet -- I said, "Oh, am I glad to see you", and then laboured my way to the bathroom!!

At some point, she checked me and said I was 9 1/2 cm. She said she thought I was "strong enough" that I could push past that extra 1/2 cm. She had me on the birth stool, and side lying on the bed. She said, "you re going to have this baby by 10:30 [am]" "YES! I CAN DO THIS! GOD IT HURTS!!" Let's go .... She asked if anyone had called my mother -- I asked Shari to do so. Shari then started the video camera.

At some point, a baroque piece, "Hallelujah!," came on the CD, and in between contractions I said, "That is about 20 minutes too early!"

The midwife said pushing will feel like a long time, but shouldn t be more than an hour. She also asked me to stop sounding, and just breathe instead. That was hard!! She told me that at some point she d ask me to stop pushing, focus on the back-up midwife, and listen carefully my midwife's instructions. I focussed on her, and it was everything in me to follow her breathing, and not push. I was locked into her eyes, and had she glanced away for a minute, I would ve pushed, I'm sure.

The pushing was really hard work. I pushed for an hour and ten minutes, though in my memory it was a very focussed and intense a half hour. They kept encouraging me, saying "C'mon Heather, harder, push, that's it, one more!!" I kept thinking, "I'm pushing as hard as I can!!" After a few, they brought out the mirror, said they could see the baby's head inside me, and showed Marty with a flashlight. Eventually, they showed me the head crowning -- it was dark looking, and at first sight, brought tears of joy -- then I looked at my perineum, stretched, and wondered HOW was I going to get this baby out!! I had a hard time looking. After a few more, though, they said I could feel the head, and so I reached down and --- wow! this soft, gushy, wet skin -- more tears -- this baby is coming!!!! Once the head was halfway out, my midwife asked me to stop pushing -- this felt weird, like a bowling ball between my legs -- what a relief when the contraction came and I could push again. Once she had me try pushing between contractions, but there wasn't much movement so she said to save my energy.

Finally her head came out, with a gush. I was just catching my breath. They expected that with the next push, she'd come popping out -- but she was a little stuck!! She had her arms folded across her chest, which made her wide at the shoulders, and so my midwife had to hook her fingers in her underarms, and pull -- first one way, then another, then finally she found a direction in which she d come -- she said "Here comes your baby, want to feel?" and I reached down and pulled her to my chest!! She was born!! I get tears still, writing this 6 months later .... I was so happy, so relieved, so in awe, so grateful for this wet, gushy babe on my chest .... so proud of all of us. Marty and I looked at each other, and at our babe, with sobbing tears of joy. I kept crying and crying, I was so ... so .... words can't describe it!! Happy. Relieved. Overwhelmed with love and caring for this person I hadn't even met but knew so well.

After about 5 minutes she asked us, "Don't you want to know what you've got?!" Oh yeah! She spread her legs, and Marty and I screamed, "It's a girl!" We have a girl!" More tears .... I was entranced.

Sarah was born at 10:40 am, only 10 minutes later than my midwife predicted. She would ve been at 1030, had I got back on the birth stool. But when she asked me this, I was in the middle of a contraction, and it hurt, and so I made a painful face, which everyone laughed at, thinking I was saying, "No way am I moving!" I was too tired to tell them I didn t hear the question or understand their laughter. I was conserving my energy!

As everyone cleaned up around me, I cuddled in with our babe on the other side of the bed, and with Marty, and watched as she stared up at us, rooted around until she found my breast about 10 minutes later, and began to suck. So sweet, how I had yearned for and dreamed of this moment. My mother came beside us, so relieved and exhausted herself, so proud and happy -- an unforgettable moment for mother and daughter and granddaughter!!

Since Shari had filled the tub, and it was still warm, my midwife suggested we all climb in -- and so we did -- Marty, our little new born girl and I -- we all loved it, especially me -- I think I was in there for about an hour. Marty and "sweet pea" got out before me, got her dressed and warm -- but not before she did a show-stopping meconium poop in her first diaper to initiate her Daddy ....

I was so ecstatic, I felt full of energy. The oddest experience! Exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. I couldn't sleep. All the pain of childbirth melted with the awesome experience of holding our sweet babe. I still remember the pain clearly, but it was a discrete event, and so worthwhile. We were overwhelmed with love as we stared unstoppably at this beautiful being who was now curled up with us.

I finally fell asleep at night, after all the excitement of the day, exhausted. At some point I heard something, and in my sleepy state, dreamily thought, "there's something I got today I have to look after ... is it that mint plant I have to plant? No. Is that a cat? No. That's a baby . . . that's MY BABY!!" and bolted awake to see Sarah and feed her. After that, I always woke up immediately when she began to fuss or cry -- the physiological response in me was so automatic and intense -- my world has forever changed, in the best of ways.