I purchased my airplane tickets back in December to leave on January sixth and stay till the sixteenth. I would leave after teaching my calculus class Friday morning and arrive the day before baby’s due date on the seventh. The following week was a four day week to give the students a four day weekend over President’s Day so I’d get to spend ten days with Esther and only miss four days of class.
The Wednesday before my trip, Esther sent a text at ten thirty at night saying, “You better come quick. I am feeling VERY heavy.”
On Friday I woke up to the text Esther sent at five my time, “Labor is starting methinks.”
At the Albuquerque airport as I waited in line to board, I read, “Contractions are fifty seconds long, six minutes apart. They’ve been that way since like six this morning with various degrees of intensity. So, it’s very possible that I’ll have a baby by the time that you arrive, but I might still be in labor.”
I was worried about the new seating arrangements on Southwest where they randomly assigned me my seat in steerage, but my seatmates on both legs of the journey were wonderful friendly people who let me ramble about my daughter being in labor and my hopes for getting there in time. I waved to my friends when we flew over Fort Worth and landed in Dallas for the connecting flight. There I met yet another friend who had connections to be in San Diego. She had gone to the synagogue next door to the Orthodox church I attended in Poway, California. Noa and I are now friends on Facebook.
I wanted to be at my first granddaughter’s birth, but I knew that I would find a way to be supportive to Esther, John Ben, Misha and Baby whenever God would bring me. I thought about how good it would be to long for the coming of Jesus as we long for the birth of a baby at the end. I had compassion on my laboring daughter and for her sake and for the longing to see the little one. I thought, “Come baby come.”
Esther and John Ben are living with a lovely couple who teach at their university, Susie and Michael. Michael picked me up from the airport and texted that the birth was in the making. It was easy to pick up my bags and meet him out front at the curb. I went straight to Esther’s bedroom and checked in. She had two midwives, one who she had done her prenatal care with, and another who was there to assist. When I came into the room, they were encouraging Esther to move around and try different positions during contractions. When labor was intense, they gave me a sense of professionalism and experience that I found very comforting. They were knowledgeable experts in birth, nutrition, and massage.
When I saw that all was well with Esther, I went to find the icon of St. Olga and my grandma icon which portrays St. Anna, Mary the Mother of God, and Jesus which I placed on the dresser next to Esther’s bed. I made a few jokes about solving math proofs during labor. Then I borrowed Esther’s white prayer rope to pray and set myself up in an empty corner of the room to observe, pray, and occasionally take out the guitar tuning app on my phone to see what low note Esther was humming so consistently.
When each contraction came, Esther hummed an A
As they became more intense the tone dropped to a G
At 11:20 that night Esther said, “She’s such a good little girl. I feel her coming.” Esther’s hum dropped to an F#. “Come on, sweet girl!”
The midwives encouraged Esther to drop her tone down deep in her gut. During the descending contractions they explained that the baby needed to rock around Esther’s pubic bone.
John Ben and Esther started singing, “Rocking around the pubic bone…” to the tune of Rocking Around the Christmas Tree.
We all laughed.
Esther and John Ben murmured philosophy jokes and quips to each other between contractions. Their humor kept them in a bubble just the two of them, but they added joy upon joy to the room.
At a quarter to midnight, Esther was having trouble humming through the contractions. The midwives crooned encouragement.
“You’re safe.”
“See the pressure as a positive thing!”
Esther said, “I do not see it as a positive thing!”
To which the midwives reminded her, “You’re safe. Your tissues are safe.”
Esther sent her humming deep for the next contraction.
Jennifer said, “repeat after me. The pressure is good. The pressure is my baby. I want my baby.” Esther repeated after her.
The midwives said, “Good work, Mama, good work.”
John Ben added, “Sweet Esther darling!”
I stayed in my corner praying with Esther’s white prayer rope but even my prayers grew shorter from the full Jesus Prayer to “Lord have Mercy.” If I had three words to describe the birth room they would be joy, safety, and prayer.
Peace fell upon the room between the next few contractions while we waited. The quiet pierced with guttural humming and encouragement. One of the midwives checked the baby’s heart rate, which was good. I said a prayer to St. Olga who was a midwife.
Esther said, “This is really hard.”
The room was filled with compassionate murmurs. “You’ve done this before.” “At the end you get a baby!”
At midnight Esther said, “There’s so much work, and there’s no baby.”
This brought sympathetic smiles and she was encouraged, “There will be a baby soon.” “It will be worth it.”
Esther was encouraged to think about the baby. Would she have curly hair?
Ten minutes later Esther asked the midwives to take off her socks. She had another hard contraction and the midwives continued to encourage her, “You know you can do hard things—you’ve already done it once. He’s asleep down the hall. You can do this.”
Esther spoke words of encouragement to her baby, “Come on, Sweetie. Come on girl.”
The water sack came out first like a huge water balloon. Another contraction later the baby’s head came. Esther was reaching to catch her with the midwives’ help and as soon as baby came through the water sack broke and she was in her mother’s arms. She had a full head of fine black hair. Her sweet baby’s cry was the best sound ever.
Esther said, “It’s okay. I’m your mom! Oh my goodness, sweet girl, come here.”
Tearfully she added, “You’re so good,” and “She’s so soft.”
John Ben and Esther snuggled with their baby in the pause before the placenta was delivered. After Esther’s small tear was stitched up and baby was measured and they had spent some time looking at their little one, the midwives took the baby’s measurements and started filling out some forms. Only then did Esther and John Ben tell the name they had been returning to more than the others under consideration, “Veronica Elaine Berry.” Little Vera was born at 12:27 am February 7. She was twenty-one inches long and weighed seven pounds ten ounces. She was born at home surrounded by love and joy and welcomed by all including me, her Nana. Esther said that the birth was much easier than Misha’s, partially because she kept moving between contractions and “kept her Zen”, and partially because the contractions stayed more spaced out.
Misha woke up and greeted his new sister with, “Baby? Baby?”
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