Niki Lundberg
To me, giving birth is an invitation to turn inwards, recognise the immense power of the body, and be guided into a state of complete presence.
My Birth Story…
Everyone told me the second baby would come earlier than the first. As Elsa was born at 41 weeks + 2 days I expected this pregnancy to, at least, be slightly shorter. In comparison to the last time, I was able to keep a positive mindset as the days were passing by but when I woke up still pregnant 9 days past my due date I couldn't help but feeling done.
On that day, December 6, Michael and I went to see our midwives. They weren't worried or in a rush but gave me a referral to get monitored, just to make sure everything was okay. Funny enough exactly the same thing happened with Elsa and she was born 45 min before my scheduled appointment at the hospital. It was almost like that was needed for me to go into labour.
After seeing the midwives we decided to sit down at a cafe, have a drink and talk things through. As soon as our drinks came, I started to cry. It was like something inside of me decided to let go and it felt really nice to just let the tears flow. This time around, while already having a child, I hadn't found much space to be vulnerable and I could tell it was a missing piece.
The day kept on going. We took Elsa for a trip to the playground, had dinner with the whole family and did our evening routine as per usual. The day after, we agreed, we would book in for monitoring. We fell asleep around 9.30 pm.
As always I woke up in the night to go to the toilet. When I came back to bed I felt a contraction. Even though I had experienced some contractions throughout the last few weeks, this one felt more intense. I looked at the clock - it was 12.30 am. I took a moment to check in with myself and although I didn't think it was time to give birth, my intuition told me to get Elsa out of the room. Around 12.45 am I woke Michael up saying I've felt something, that I wasn't sure where it would lead but that I wanted to move Elsa.
Once Elsa was in bed with her grandmother everything ramped up. I used the space in between the contractions to go to the toilet (exactly the same thing happened the first time - the body's natural urge to empty itself), dim the lights, put on music and light candles. Michael was calling the midwives but it took some time for them to answer. Once they did, I could relax even further - not because they were on their way but because it meant that Michael and I could be fully present with each other.
I quickly found my position - kneeling on the floor with my forearms resting on the bed. The contractions came every second minute and with my eyes closed I rode one intense wave after the other. The experience was exactly what I had envisioned: full on. There wasn't much time to rest and I had to stay focused. The midwives arrived around 1.30 am and quietly entered. They saw what we were doing, respected our privacy and decided to wait in the living room.
The overarching feeling I had as my body opened up was that it was extremely intense, more intense than I remembered, but at the same time completely manageable. The body was doing its thing and in that I trusted. After a while I started to feel a shift. Mentally I went from a state of spaciousness to clarity, and physically an urge to push appeared. Because I had birthed before it all felt familiar. Last time it was as if I got taken by external forces, whereas this time I felt in charge. I knew exactly where I was going.
By this stage my position slightly changed. I placed one foot on the floor, almost putting myself in a low lunge, still with my forearms resting on the bed. I reached for Michael, squeezed his hands each time a contraction hit me, and buried my face into his body. I had been vocal the whole time and by this point the sound had gone from a soft hum to a loader moan.
It was all extremely vivid. I could feel the baby finding its way down the birth canal and when I placed my finger inside, I could touch the bag of water. The midwives were now in the room. One had her hands on my hips, pressing them together while encouraging me to listen to my body. The other one sat by my side, present but not disturbing. I used my breath to stay in the moment. At times it felt right to follow the force and push, at times it felt right to take a step back and not interfere.
As with Elsa, the sack didn't break until I pushed parts of it out. Once I heard a 'pop' and water hitting the floor, I knew I was close. With my first birth, once the end was near, I had a hard time staying patient. This time I knew how to take it easy. It was as if I could feel the exact shape of his head as he was crowning. I definitely can't say it was pain free, not at all, but once again it was manageable. I was in control.
When the head was out, Michael told me to feel it. It was an incredible feeling - warm, soft and very familiar. Quickly I concluded I wasn't ready to catch him - instead it felt natural for Michael to do so while I kept my whole focus on the actual pushing. With the next contraction his body came through. Michael caught him with his hands and handed him over to me. I pulled him up towards me and his eyes were wide open, looking straight into mine. He barely made a noise but was fully awake. It was magical. A moment I will remember forever.
Nils joined our family on December 7 at 3.53 am, after three hours of labour.
Once the midwives untangled the cord I moved from the floor into the bed and placed him on my chest. Everything felt so calm and peaceful. Michael went out into the kitchen to make coffee and I birthed the placenta into a salad bowl, standing up with Nils on my breast.
The rest of the family had slept through the storm but, funnily enough, woke up when they heard Michael grind the coffee beans and froth the milk. When he came back into the room he had all of them with him - Michael's parents, Thip and perhaps most importantly, Elsa. Our bedroom, an early Thursday morning, with my whole family around me and everything felt complete.
Birth story written by Niki Lundberg