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Laboring at home with candles and soft music rather than fluorescent lights and beeping machines, I moved freely as my midwife followed me to listen to the baby.
Her assistant rubbed my back, whispered in my ear, brought me water, acknowledged how much contractions hurt. I was comfortable being loud, being sad, being scared. I was made to feel that my body was beautiful in labor.
And I could feel everything! Amazingly, it was worth the pain. I’d read that when you don’t block labor pain with medication, your body produces endorphins that cause an intense “runner’s high.” It does! At my son’s birth, I experienced exhilaration one hundred times more powerful than what I had felt at my other children’s births. And I’d been damn exhilarated then.
The real shocker was how much better this birth was for my son. Besides not having any contraction-inducing drugs or pain relievers in his system, he was born into a warm, dim, quiet environment and place naked and slippery on my body. It was a holy time. He didn’t leave my arms for a full hour. He wasn’t weighed or given a shot or eyedrops until he had nursed and was sleepy. In the meantime, my midwife cleaned up.
Giving birth this way opened my eyes to an inner strength as a woman. I wish I had known this before my other births. Still, as changed as I am by my homebirth, I didn’t trade my minivan for a VW bus or start wearing dreadlocks. I am, however, most definitely due for a trip to the salon.
 This article appeared in Pathways to Family Wellness magazine, Issue #07.
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