My Birth Story

On September 20th, 2023 I went to sleep like any other night, very pregnant and uncomfortable. And like most nights during the ninth month of pregnancy, I got up soon after laying down to go pee. This pee was different though because when I wiped, it was accompanied by a “bloody show.” I felt a small flutter in my chest and wondered, "Is it time?" but tried not to get too excited because I'd been told bloody show can mean "go time" but doesn't always mean "go time." I did text my doulas, Amy and Sarah, to give them the update before laying back down. That was at 11 p.m.

By 11:30 I knew I wouldn’t be sleeping because I started having what can only be described as painful period cramps. It was indeed ~go time~. So I got up and began moving around the house to distract myself. My doulas had done a great job educating me on the stages of labor and I knew early labor could take many hours, so I tried to stay calm and pace myself. The next several hours I spent bouncing on the yoga ball, walking around the house, eating and drinking water, and grunting through contraction pains. By 2:30 a.m. the pain had picked up considerably so I decided to take a shower to see if that would help, and it did for a bit. The hot water on my skin was a nice distraction, and I even got on my hands and knees and did some cat/cow stretches while the water showered over me. It was nice, but even that couldn't keep the pain away for long. I got out of the shower and decided to wake Chris up.

“Babe I’m having contractions,” I grunted.

“Okay,” he yawned. “Are they painful?”

“Yes they’re painful,” I nearly shouted. “I don’t think you’re going to work today.”

He promptly got out of bed and joined me in the living room where he saw the hours' worth of labor I’d been experiencing through the mess of the house (and nearly every light on). He began timing my contractions and started putting together his hospital bag.

At 4:45 I texted the doulas again, saying my contractions were about 3-5 minutes apart, lasting 1-2 minutes each, and that I thought it was time for one of them to come over. I’d thrown up several times at this point (just lots of water) and kept telling Chris I needed to poop (turns out a baby's head pressing down feels like that). I was still unsure how close we actually were but it started to feel very real at this point.

When Amy arrived at our house it was almost 6 a.m. and I was in rare form. As she walked through the front door I vomited all over the living room floor and fireplace mantle - the timing couldn’t have been more spot on.

"I'm glad I'm here," she said. 

I couldn't help but chuckle as wiped my mouth with my arm and said, "Yeah I bet you'll tell stories about that huh?"

"I absolutely will," she laughed and began rubbing my back.

We moved to the bathroom and she encouraged me to relax and breathe through each contraction. She took over as my support so Chris could finish loading up the car and making arrangements (emailing my work to say I'd need a substitute for the evening, texting his mom to feed our dog, etc). It was only about 20 minutes before she asked me, “Are you pushing right now?”

“Yes,” I said, “I feel like I have to.”

“Okay we need to go to the hospital right now,” she said.

We quickly got shoes on, laid towels in the passenger seat of Chris's car (just in case), and hopped in.

“Try not to push until we get there,” Amy said through the window as she scurried to her car to follow us there. For the 15-minute drive, I closed my eyes and silently breathed through each contraction (I wasn’t trying to have a baby in the car). We arrived and had to enter through the ER because the main hospital was closed. Within a few minutes, they had someone quickly wheeling us up to Labor and Delivery. I got into triage where a nurse determined I was 7 cm dilated, “with a bulging bag,” so they prepared the room and called my midwife. It was about 7 a.m. at this point.

We got into the room and they tried hooking me up with an IV (for antibiotics because I was strep B positive) but couldn’t find my vein, three separate times. Thank god for Amy who said, “She probably won’t even have time for the antibiotics because she’s so close to delivery, so can we stop poking her and let her get in the birthing tub?” The OB on-call wasn't thrilled about it, but that’s exactly what we did.

My midwife showed up shortly after I got in the tub, and agreed that we wouldn't have had time for antibiotics, as I was now 9 cm dilated. I labored in the water for maybe an hour, probably less, before I began to feel super pushy.

“I really need to push now,” I said and stood up to make my way over to the bed. As I did, my water broke with an audible pop.

“Yep, it’s time!” said my midwife, Katie.

I climbed onto the bed and began pushing. The posture I chose, kneeling against the head of the bed and bearing down, felt so intuitive and natural. I had gravity on my side with each push. In about 20 minutes of pushing I felt my baby's head and Chris said, “He’s almost out!”

“Look down between your legs,” Katie said, “One last push!”

And at 9:17 a.m. there he was, my son, eyes wide open to the world on the bed underneath me. We just stared at each other for a moment before I picked him up and flipped over onto my back. "You did so good," Chris said, crying, as he kissed us both over and over. It was true then, that all of the pain from moments before was nearly gone (though not completely because I was getting my three separate tears stitched up). The only thing that mattered was that my baby was healthy and so was I. 

Samuel and I then spent over an entire golden hour skin-to-skin post-birth. Just soaking it in. He was so calm but alert, and so was I. He latched easily to my breast for his first short feed. After birth, I received a shot of pitocin in my leg to help the uterus contract and slow my bleeding. And that was the only medication I received for the entire process. After birthing the placenta, when the umbilical cord was completely white, Chris cut it and freed our baby from his former home.

When I felt I could share him, I said to Chris “You want some skin to skin now?” and he quickly took his shirt off and held his hands out.

I passed him our baby and they then spent about an hour together. As I watched them the most immense wave of gratitude flowed over me. I had (and have) the best partner in the world for birth. He was so supportive, took direction well, and could not have been a better cheerleader and advocate for me and what I wanted. Even my midwife and doula doted over how incredible he was.

We’re both so grateful to the midwives and nurses at Research Medical Center for the birth experience we received. No one tried to take him from us to clean him, weigh him, or anything else for over three hours post-birth. No one pushed their agendas or preferences on us. We were given choices and when we made them, they were respected. I know this isn’t the case for all births and it was super important to us to have people around us who would respect our decisions as parents.

My life was forever changed on September 21st, 2023 and I will always remember the day as the most magical experience of my life.