I Gave Birth.

A guest post from Maggie's husband. Plus Season 14 announced, crypto news + SheFi events.

I am thrilled to share that I’ve given birth to a beautiful baby girl. I’m honoring this time to recover and bond with our child so Jon will be guest writing the newsletter this week. Much love!

Hi SheFiers,

I’m Maggie’s husband, Jon. When she told me she wanted me to write this guest post, I hesitated. How could I – someone who wasn’t directly involved in giving birth – faithfully represent any part of a birth?

But I realized men have a role in telling the story labor too. I’m now shocked to recall the time before having my own child and how few birth stories I’d heard, and fewer labor stories!

Like everyone else I’ve gotten the nice birth messages of course – ”Introducing the baby! Born at such and such time at such and such weight and mother and baby are happy” – with a beautiful skin to skin photo of the two of them.

Everyone wants to see that! A picture of baby, perfectly Instagrammable and swaddled up in onesie, laughing and sucking on a hand.

But nothing about the gruesome imagery of delivery or the grueling story of the labor. Nothing about the laboring mother, the portal for new life to come into this world.

As far as I can tell, labor is an ugly, beautiful surrender. It’s like a cry you can’t hold in, and the more you try to stiffen your upper lip, the more it wants to get out of you.

It’s shameless, animalistic, and psychedelic. It’s naked, bald, and exposed.

One night about two weeks ago, I was woken at 3am by Maggie closing the door. I turned groggily and asked her what she was doing. “Go back to bed, I’m not sure this is it yet.”

Narrator: that was definitely it. I made coffee, packed my go bag, and started texting our doula and some friends.

Our friend Lyndsey texted me later that morning as Maggie went into proper labor:

“She’ll have every crutch taken from her one at a time.”

I wasn’t quite sure what she meant, but I learned soon enough. Labor takes a sledgehammer to the load-bearing psychological pillars we’ve painstakingly developed to cope with our lives.

We each develop those pillars through life–techniques to soldier on through physical and emotional duress.

For example, when Maggie and I go on runs, she does a beautiful practice of thanking her limbs out loud. This is typically around the ⅔ mark of the run when things are starting to get really hard but we’re not close to the finish line yet. My instinct is usually to grit my teeth, close my eyes and push through, but Maggie’s is to go slowly in a bottoms-up body scan:

“Thank you toes. Thank you heels. Thank you ankles.” And so on.

Each sore working part of our bodies, groaning to propel us forward, gets its little moment of gratitude.

This uh, doesn’t work for labor. There is no time to thank anyone or anything. At some point, there’s barely consciousness at all.

To an external observer there is mostly breathing into the building tension, vocalizing your way through it, breathing into the come-down, and a whole lot of deathgripping along the way. Yet coping with labor isn’t gritty. You can’t “grind” your way through labor because you don’t have to do very much.

Labor is done to you.

On a run you always have to pick up one foot and put it in front of the other. The default state is non-motion and you have to urge yourself into motion. The psychological battle is therefore “I must take another step.” You don’t ever have to run, after all.

In labor, on the other hand, the contractions come to you. At first haphazardly and then like clockwork, the ripples build to waves and all you can do is stand on the shore, face the coming wall of water and say something like, “Oh well.” Or “Yikes.” Or “Eek!”

Or better yet, “Yes!”

Better yet, bring it on! Yes to opening. Yes to surrender. Yes to aaaaahhhhhhh. Yes to AHHHHHHHHH! Yes to meeting my baby.

In all of Maggie’s labor she only said “no” one time. It was about halfway through her transition – the toughest and most intense part of the labor. She was measuring almost exactly 3 minutes between the start of each contraction. I knew if I saw the clock ending in a multiple of 3 she was likely gearing up.

:03, :06, :09, :12, :15…

And by this time I also knew that around the 45 second mark of a minute she’d begin anticipating (“It’s coming…”), she’d then go into 45 seconds of blinding intensity, and then catch a few breaths of a come-down. Then 2 minutes later, she’d start all over again. But she didn’t know the stopwatch-precise timing of her own contractions.

To her it was one big blur of a mortal struggle.

Already lying in a heap against the hospital bed, and a good half dozen contractions in, she finally let out a whimper.

“No…”

That was the first acknowledgement she made that she might be at her breaking point. That instead of welcoming it in, she needed a rest from the rushing of the coming tide.

But the moment she was ready to resist, she let out a giant sigh:

“Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeessssssss.” It was in that moment that she exited the transition. Shortly thereafter she pushed out our new child.

It still moves me to think of those small whimpers during the rest periods in between the titanic battles of contraction. To remember seeing someone – someone I love dearly – put up a massive effort, let out room shaking screams, crush my fist to dust, then just as quickly transform into a tender animal.

I felt terror and excitement and pity and helplessness and…and love.

It reminds me of a line from Mary Oliver, our favorite poet:

“You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.”

Wild Geese by Mary Oliver

Labor is the soft animal of a body loving what it loves. To labor is to bring a new thing into existence, to meet your work, and to have no choice but to do so.

Maggie brought the same intense surrender to her labor that she does to the rest of her life. She lives with what she does so fully that she has no choice but to bear its birth from inside her body into the world.

To my soulmate Maggie, welcome to the rest of our lives.

To my first daughter Summer Jeanne Love-Wu, welcome to the world.

Love,

Jon

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SheFi’s Crypto News Roundup 🏇 

Information is power! Here are some news updates from the past few weeks:

👉️ Share your wins so we can celebrate them 👈️

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