Midwives there 2nd time for Fayetteville mother

FAYETTEVILLE — Brannan Sirratt planned the birth of her second child for months.

She imagined the perfect night - a starry sky and a cool breeze, even in August, as she labored in a birthing pool surrounded by handmade curtains on her front porch. And she hoped one of her midwives would be back from vacation.

But a natural birth happens on the baby's schedule.

Throughout her pregnancy, Sirratt underwent regular checkups by midwives Maria Chowdhury and Jennifer Creel. Her toddler, Nate, would climb on the exam bed, often bumping his head on the lavender wall, playing with the midwives' thin measuring tape and "blowing raspberries" on his mother's belly.

As time passed, Sirratt's belly swelled and she gained 60 pounds. Her short, straight, brown hair grew into thick dreadlocks. As her Aug. 30 due date drew near, Sirratt's midsection expanded another centimeter with each passing week, and she tried to follow the midwives' advice to eat right and exercise.

She and husband Jacob walked with Nate around their south Fayetteville neighborhood and played at Walker Park. She ate lots of fruit and worked diligently to incorporate vegetables into her diet. She did lunges and squats.

During an event in Oklahoma to bless the forthcoming birth, she collected fabric in varied patterns to sew into the panels of the curtains that would surround the birthing pool. Family and friends drove from Oklahoma to help arrange the porch.

The last Friday in July, her father, Kevin Fitzgerald, led a crew that built a frame for the curtains using two-by-fours and metal poles. Inside, Sirratt sat on her living room floor, sewing the curtains on a machine that belonged to her great-great-aunt.

Jacob Sirratt cooked hamburgers and hot dogs on a charcoal grill. When it was time to eat, everyone stood and held hands in the front yard, as Fitzgerald, a Southern Baptist minister, blessed the food and the porch. He prayed for the curtains and tarp to provide protection and comfort for the birth.

Later, Brannan Sirratt hung the panels.

"Hey, this'll work. No, really, it will work," she said. "This is really what I pictured. And it's not that ... hick."

"It's not hick, but it is very hippie," said her mother, Darinda Fitzgerald.

During one of the last prenatal visits, Chowdhury, back from vacation, brought Sirratt a book in which to chronicle the birth experience, then pass on to another expectant mother.

"I'm ready whenever you are," Chowdhury said.

"Me, too," Sirratt replied.

LABOR BEGINS

On Sept. 3, four days after her due date, Sirratt woke up with contractions. For eight hours, they kept coming, 10 minutes apart. But she ignored them and kept moving.

"There's a lot of stuff you can do in 10-minute intervals," she said.

About 6 p.m., the family went to Wal-Mart for snacks and supplies. She waddled several feet, squatted for a contraction, then waddled several more feet.

"The more I would squat and run, the closer they would come together," she said.

Sirratt called Creel about 7:30 p.m. and talked through a contraction, which made her sweat. Chowdhury was teaching a childbirth class. Sirratt said the contractions weren't in her back, like with Nate. This time, they wrapped around, in waves.

"I never felt that until today," she said.

Sirratt sat at her sewing machine on the floor, determined to finish six cloth postpartum pads. She stood up to lunge for the duration of a contraction.

"Jennifer told me to lunge when I had a contraction," she said.

"Did you tell her she was nuts?" Jacob Sirratt asked.

At 8:20 p.m., Sirratt told her husband not to worry about getting the birthing pool ready because she was still in the early stage of labor. They had time, and she continued to sew and lunge.

"That actually feels really good," she said, her hand on a door frame for support.

She sat on the black couch, trying to eat a taco, but a contraction interrupted her.

At 9:30 p.m., Sirratt called Creel again. "Hold on," she said, waiting for a contraction to pass before speaking again. "I thoughtI had four minutes."

Creel suggested she get into a waiting hot bath, which she said would help her either relax or tell her body to work harder.

At 9:45 p.m., she got into the tub in her two-piece, black bathing suit, with music blasting from a playlist - including "It Can't Rain Every Day" by P.O.D., a rock-metal-Christian band, and "Samson" by Regina Spektor - that her husband made that night.

Nate crawled into the tub, too, splashing and blowing raspberries on his mom's belly.

"You're going to meet that baby soon," she told him.

Nate echoed her voice as she softly moaned through contractions in the small, candlelit bathroom.

PERFECT STORM

The midwives arrived just before 11 p.m. Mariah White, the apprentice, talked with Sirratt as Chowdhury and Creel carried in equipment and supplies.

Jacob Sirratt came back inside from inflating the round, blue pool. The remnants of Hurricane Gustav were blowing through Northwest Arkansas, bringing a steady, light rain and cool night air.

"It turned into your night. You know that cool, breezy night you wanted? It turned into it just for you. You know that, right?" he said as his wife cried.

Creel squatted beside Sirratt, noting that her sobbing was a sign of the transition to actual labor. Creel wiped her tears, while Chowdhury held a Doppler unit to her belly.

"I got my breezy, nighttime labor," Sirratt said.

"Not just breezy - cool labor," her husband said.

"This is so different, so fast," Sirratt said to Chowdhury.

"You're working hard, girl. [The contractions] are coming fast, too," Chowdhury replied.

With the pool inflated, Jacob Sirratt discovered the water from the water heater was brown. He found a faucet adapter in the birthing kit and started running water through a hose from the bathroom sink.

"It seems like we're farther along than when we started getting busy last time," he told Chowdhury. "She's been working all day."

At 11:30 p.m., Brannan Sirratt slowly headed toward the pool. A few steps into the hall, she had a contraction. Another few steps into the living room, another contraction hit, and she leaned back on her husband. They waddled to the front porch together.

Inside the pool, Sirratt leaned against the side. Cars passed on the wet highway by their house as her contractions continued. Chowdhury squatted by the pool, under the tarp, as Creel and White, holding Nate, stood nearby.

"It won't go away," Sirratt said of a contraction.

Chowdhury said the ones that won't go away are often late-labor contractions.

Jacob Sirratt had gotten the water temperature right. Chowdhury, with the Doppler covered in plastic, touched her belly underwater.

"That's not any good," Brannan Sirratt said, growling through another contraction.

At 11:50 p.m., she was frustrated with her position.

"I don't know where to go," she said.

"Ow," she wailed, as she slipped in the pool, her legs stretching behind her. "It's still there."

Contraction.

Contraction.

Contraction.

A BIRTHDAY

Right before midnight, Sirratt thought she needed to go to the bathroom.

"It's so big," she said of the pain to her husband, who sat next to the pool on an ottoman, his arms wrapped around her back. "Remind me it's not bigger than me."

"It's not bigger than you," he replied, reminding her of Nate's birth.

With another contraction, she rumbled desperately. She felt the baby's head moving as it positioned itself for birth.

"The baby's moving, the head's moving," she said. "I need a break. I need a break so bad."

There was no break. Just seconds later, she said, "It's coming again." Sustained yells returned to growls. Creel asked how different that contraction felt.

"You're doing awesome, girl," Chowdhury said.

"It hurts all over," Sirratt said.

"I'll bet - because you're working so hard and so fast. You're getting so close to holding your baby," Chowdhury said.

Right after midnight, Sirratt again said she needed to use the bathroom. Chowdhury said the pressure likely was the baby's head.

On her knees and leaning forward, Sirratt hurt as the baby moved. Her belly was tired, and she wanted a break. Chowdhury told her she was close, as Sirratt screamed.

"Oh my God, I'm pushing," she said. "It's coming down."

Chowdhury reached under the water and said, "Oh, the baby's head is just right here."

"I know," the mother said.

Jacob Sirratt sang to his wife in a low voice, gently rubbing her back as she softly moaned during a short break.

"You are there, girl," Chowdhury said, as White continued to hold Nate.

Then, Sirratt was screaming again.

Her husband kept singing to her, "Our God is an Awesome God" and "I Love You, Lord," as she moaned and rested, and then as she growled again.

Soon, there was more pushing and growling. They didn't sound as frantic or desperate.They were calmer.

"These are the breaks I was waiting for," Sirratt said.

Then, with each growl and breath, she yelled into the night sky, "Out! Out! Out!" Her husband's voice calmly sang in her ear. Another wave came and again she yelled, "Out! Out! Out! Out!"

Sirratt wanted to squat. They said she could squat and then lean forward on the pool's edge when she rested.

At 12:26 a.m., she was squatting and pushing, with several short bursts of yelling that got louder.

"You're crowning," Chowdhury said. "And the baby's out."

"Oh, my God," Sirratt said.

"What?" her husband asked.

Creel handed her partner a receiving blanket as the baby boy cried. Chowdhury suctioned his nose and mouth and placed a hat on his head.

Moments later, Sirratt stood up in the pool as Chowdhury held onto both her and baby Israel "Izzy" Sirratt. Five minutes after giving birth, Sirratt made her way into her living room. The song "Bare Necessities" from Disney's The Jungle Book played on the TV. Nate kissed his 8-pound, 6-ounce baby brother on the head, calling him "bebee."

COMFORT OF HOME

The Sirratts took Nate and Izzy to a childbirth class just two weeks later. Occasionally nursing Izzy, Brannan Sirratt told the six pregnant women and their husbands about both of her birth experiences: both in her home, both welcoming sons into the world, both with these midwives.

But those nights and those births - happening within two years - were "night and day."

Looking back, she said, "The whole labor was chaos; it was so much fun."

With Nate, she said, it was like she'd pushed a bicycle up a hill, over many hours. Tired, she had to keep going. With Izzy, she got on the bike and rode straight up that hill.

Both ways, in the end, "You just get to sit down at the top of that hill and enjoy the view."

In the days after the birth, the couple told the parents-tobe how members of their Springdale church brought meals, while Brannan Sirratt focused on sleeping and nursing.

"Not only was I made to have babies, but this is how I was made to have babies," she told the class.

After nine months of listening to her midwives, grating carrots and trying to find salads she liked, she'd made it through the birth at her home.

And, three hours after giving birth, Sirratt had snuggled into her own bed with her newborn, her toddler and her husband.

Front Section, Pages 1, 2 on 01/26/2009