The Village LadySmith

The beginning of Lydia’s third pregnancy had been comfortable, too comfortable to notice.  She called for her first prenatal visit sure she was a few months along with no idea when she was due.  At the initial visit I guessed she was already about halfway to her birth date, sometime in late January.  She visited my backup doc and a midpregnancy ultrasound gave us a range of December 29 to January 26th.  Since her first two children came right on time, we settled in for a surprise.

That surprise came New Year’s Eve at 10:30pm.  When the phone rang, I was in neighborhood party mode, chatting and trying to decide if I’d be allowed a second beer or if someone might call.  The usual winks and teases followed me out to the quieter porch. “Lydia’s water broke, or something happened.”  To be honest, I didn’t really expect to hear from Lydia until Next Year, but I was happy to check on her.  When I arrived at the couple’s home, they had the propane light on and were starting to pack their bags to leave.  Their son and daughter were born at my birth cottage since their house is very public- close to neighbors, a highway, and an intersection- and Amish folks are so very private about their birthing.

It took no time at all to confirm that Lydia’s water had indeed broken and she was just starting to have contractions.  Baby’s heartbeat was reassuring and when I checked I found that her cervix was softening and thinning but still just one centimeter dilated.  We agreed that I would rest at the birth house and they would call when labor got going.  We’d need to drive the kids down the road to Adam’s parents house so I asked them not to wait too long to call.

Half an hour after I got to the cottage, the phone rang again and Adam sounded rushed: “They’re pretty strong now.”  Now any mother, father, doctor, midwife, nurse, doula, or sleepy grandmother will tell you that half an hour isn’t much time in labor.  Any midwife who works with Amish ladies will tell you that if an Amish mama says it’s time to come, you put your shoes on and go.  This was no exception.  I called Lisa to come and headed out the door.

Lydia was laboring hard.  She had thrown up and was breathing beautifully through a contraction when I arrived.  Adam thrust baby Reuben into my arms and grabbed Hannah and the bags while Lydia started off the couch.  Reuben started to wiggle and I bounced him gently, watching Lydia’s progress to the door.  When Reuben’s eyes fluttered I made a grave error: I absently cooed something reassuring.  In English.  His eyes flew open because, well, the jig was up.  Reuben doesn’t hear much English and never at 11:30 pm.  English at 11:30pm is not reassuring to Reuben, even a coo.  Reuben’s wails trailed behind us as we continued the slow parade to the car.

The stop at Adam’s parents was brief.  Lydia stayed in the car when Adam and I took the kids in, I made Hannah cry by handing her the teddy bear (will I never learn?), and Adam stammered something in Dutch to his sleepy and confused mother.  I could tell that Lydia was done with the whole car thing, and I inconvenienced some less important New Year’s Eve traffic on our way to the house.  It was a little before midnight and I teased Lydia that it’s not often that a woman is in labor and still doesn’t know what year her baby will be born.

Lydia, familiar after two babies with the birth house and all of its amenities, made her way directly upstairs to the giant bath tub.  I was happy to see Lisa had arrived and was ready for action.  I went downstairs to get Lydia water and start some coffee, and right away heard Lisa call.  Now, Lisa and I have been working together for some years, and although the tub was running, the kettle was starting to hiss and I could not hear words, I know when Lisa’s voice says “Pushing”.  Lydia was pushing 75 minutes after I checked her at 1 centimeter and 2 minutes after walking in the door and up the stairs.  I don’t remember my own trip up the stairs then, just that I walked in to the bathroom to see Lydia with (thank you!) enough bathwater to have a baby in, Adam smiling near her head, and Lisa grabbing towels.  I could already see dark hair and in two more pushes the head emerged into the water.  I slipped a loop of cord over baby’s head and the little guy slid into my hands underwater.  As his feet left Lydia’s body I glanced up at Lisa to see if she caught the exact time- I knew we were close to midnight.  She and Adam were both looking at her watch and grinning.  Lydia was exhaltant.  I snuggled Baby up to her chest and we covered them both with towels. “Exactly at midnight,” Lisa said. “Forty seconds after midnight.”

When Mom, Dad and Baby were snuggled into bed nursing and counting fingers and toes, I slipped out to make a phone call.  “Labor and Delivery please,” I told the receptionist.  When the nurse answered I started with my usual Calling-the-hospital-when-we-should-all-be-sleeping line: “Hi Cathy, this is Sarah, the homebirth midwife.  You have helped some of my clients in the past.”  This is an incredibly friendly hospital with doctors, midwives, and nurses that I love and would send birthday card to if I could, but I can always hear the tense hesitation when this phone call starts.  “Hi, Sarah, what can we help you with?”  “Oh, I’m just ringing to call dibs on the first New Year baby.  We had ours at 40 seconds after midnight.”  Cathy called me a name that I didn’t repeat when I told the Amish parents and we laughed together and shared wishes for a Happy New Year.  Indeed.