Chapter 13 – Like a Hollow Bamboo…

     Headlights pierced the pale light and mist in the early morning before sunrise. Their jeep effortlessly plowed through the eighteen inches of snow on our steep driveway like a Sherman tank—bringing my friend, her husband and their older daughter to our home where their baby was to be born.

     A roaring fire in the big stone fireplace, and the soft candlelight welcomed them into the house. Flames flickered and danced through the big hole in the middle of a special log that had been placed on the hearth for the occasion. Coats and hats came off, revealing red cheeks and sparkling eyes. Snow crusted, wet boots were left by the door. Wet scarves and gloves were hung on hooks in the entryway.

     Her water had broken in the middle of the night, but labor had not yet established itself. They had driven here early to nest and settle in. Their excitement lent itself to a flurry of activity. The birthing bed was made up. Supplies were checked. Baby clothes set out.

    With the morning light the household came alive. A hearty breakfast soon appeared from the farm kitchen. Kids were up and dressed, fed and ushered out the door to school. “Please, please, let us stay home,” they begged. “Nice try. Now hurry or you’ll miss the bus. Everyone will be here when you get home, including maybe a baby!”

     When it finally quieted down she stretched out on the couch in front of the fire. Contractions came randomly, but were not serious, like a car that is trying to turn over on a cold winter day. The engine whirrs capriciously, but nothing is really happening.

     “I’m just futzing here. I’m entirely too comfortable. I need to get my butt off this couch. Come on, honey” she said half-heartedly to her husband, “Let’s go for a walk.” On went the coat, hat, gloves, and boots—and off they went…

     As I washed up the dishes, my husband brought more wood into the house. We had been anticipating this moment, and as I glanced around the room, I was content. Everything was cozy and in place for the birth.

     An hour later I heard the stomp of boots out on the porch, signaling their return. “So…how goes it?” I asked, as they swept in the door. “I’m just fooling around here. I have such a habit of puttering. It’s my style to take forever to get anything done. I’m going into the bedroom, and I’m going to get this going!”

     With the next contraction her eyes closed and she whispered, “I am a hollow bamboo.” Supporting herself by hanging onto a counter, her body slowly went into a squat, back straight and pelvis spread wide open. Her jaw dropped slack and out of her mouth came a long, low Ommmmmmmm—one breath—impossibly held through an entire contraction. When it was over she stood back up and slowly and sensuously moved her hips gently in circles. Then… again…she dropped into a squat…Ommmmmmmmmmmmmm.

     Within an hour and a half she could feel the baby beginning to push its way out of her womb. She curled up in the bed and grabbed her feet, hips wide, pulling her legs up till her feet touched her nose. Her husband was beside her, supporting her shoulders. As she pushed, her daughter stood behind me at the foot of the bed, one hand squeezing my shoulder to steady herself.

     A little girl slowly emerged. She immediately locked eyes with her father. He stared intently at her and I thought he would faint. “I think I have known her for many lifetimes,” he managed to say when he could reclaim his breath.

     As we were cleaning up after the birth, the two men went out onto the porch. They decided the occasion called for a cigarette. I watched as their smoke pierced the frigid air—listened to them laugh, and wondered what guys say to each other after witnessing such an amazing thing…