She was gracious and lovely—a southern woman. Her clothes swirled in soft folds around her petite body. Auburn, smooth hair fell straight to her shoulders. A true lady, as my dad used to say.
Her husband was a gentleman—mannerly and cordial, always dressed in a tie and white shirt when he accompanied her. He called her missy. She called him darling.
During her prenatal visits I found myself seduced by her lyrical, South Carolina accent. I could see her on the porch of a stately manor sipping ice tea on a hot summer afternoon.
I wondered…Labor can be such a noisy, sweaty business, and she was so delicate and gentle. I was trying to picture it.
She called me one Sunday morning. “My pains have been coming over me for some time now, and I think I should come into the birth room,” she said calmly.
She didn’t sound like she was in very active labor, but I said, “Sure, I’ll see you there in a few minutes, and we’ll check things out.”
She and her husband entered the room in a hush—like they were being held in a protective bubble. I gently examined her. Seven centimeters!
They crawled up on the bed, spooned together. Quiet. Sometimes whispering.
I sat in the corner of the room, watching over them. I entered into her stillness and stayed very focused and present, not saying a word.
They were entwined together—riding the waves of her contractions as if in a small boat bobbing gently in a rough sea, barely disturbed by its turbulence.
Her breathing quickened, her face was flushed, but not a sound did she make. She didn’t move either, but lay on her side, embraced by her husband.
I began to hear little grunts in her breath and knew that she was close to pushing. I lifted her top leg and let it rest on my shoulder. I felt her bearing down.
The bag of waters appeared at the opening of her vagina and gave way—the water trickling down onto the bed. Soon after, the baby slipped out. She reached down and lifted him to her breast. He was alert and pink and breathing, but he did not cry out. He was quiet…like his parents. They tucked him into their private bubble.
Sometimes people are surprised by what comes out when giving birth, by what they discover about themselves. But like this couple, sometimes the birth just provides a deep reflection of truth already evident. Honest and perfect.
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