Millions of babies are born every year. That means millions of stories, millions of tips and strategies, millions of woulda, coulda, shoulda’s. There is so much power in the sharing of stories. When I was expecting Ellie, I found strength and courage in reading the courageous birth stories of other women. And so, in the spirit of sharing, here is Ellie’s birth story. At the end, in case you’re interested, I have listed a few of my favorite places for reading the birth stories of other women.
There is a lot of research that says that women tend to birth a lot like their sisters, which for me is incredibly lucky. I have had the great privilege of being present for all three of my sister’s births, all of which have been pretty quick and without complication. The only issue is that my sister does not go into labor. Neither does my aunt. Both have consistently gone far enough past every baby’s due date to necessitate a pitocin-induced birth. Hoping for an intervention-free birth, this fact gnawed away at the back of my mind as my own due date came and went with no signs of labor. My midwife said that I could “stay pregnant” for up to 2 weeks past my due date before we would need to induce. I tried to prepare myself that things might not go as planned as I scheduled another midwife appointment for a week later.
I woke up around 1 a.m. three days past my due date with some pain in my back. I tried re-positioning how I was sleeping (not easy at 40+3) and get back to sleep. Here’s the thing about contractions – no one can really tell you what they feel like because they’re a little different for everyone. What I expected was what I had seen on television and in the movies, but for me, contractions really just felt like back spasms that came and went. It took nearly an hour before I realized that I might be in labor. Knowing that this could be an incredibly long day, I did not wake up Brian. I downloaded an app to my phone to begin timing my contractions. From the beginning, my contractions were consistently 1 minute long and about 8-9 minutes apart. Brian’s alarm clock went off around 6 a.m., but I told him to turn it off because he was not going to work. At that point, the contractions were about 7 minutes apart and very consistent. I called my midwife to let her know what was going on and to let her know that I was planning to labor at home for as long as possible, but that we would likely head to the hospital later that afternoon. I had so much nervous energy that I wanted to get out of bed and call everyone we know, but Brian reminded me that this was probably the last morning we would have to be lazy in bed for quite some time. I remember lying there and realizing that life would never be the same once we got out of bed, but in that moment, it was just us. With the quiet around us as we dozed in and out of sleep, I prayed for this new life and for all of the joy and wonder it would bring to our home.
I tried to wait until an acceptable hour to begin calling friends and family, but I also wanted to give them plenty of notice that today was “Ellie Day.” I remember feeling a little nervous to call everyone. I did not want people to begin calling babysitters and calling off of work if I was wrong. I let everyone know that they had some time as we were going to labor at home for as long as possible, but not to be far from their phone. The morning was pretty uneventful. I laid on the couch and watched a few episodes of Parenthood and ate some breakfast, still timing my contractions with the app. We were sticking to about 6-7 minutes apart, but I was still feeling pretty good, so we decided to take the dogs for a walk. It was the most beautiful day outside – the sun was shining and it was finally getting warm enough to be outside without a jacket. As an English teacher, I had a difficult time not reading into all of the symbolism of the weather and imagined that if I were writing a novel, this is precisely the kind of weather that I would write for my daughter’s birthday. We walked the dogs over to campus where the students were out and about also enjoying the beautiful weather. When a contraction would come on, I would often slow down or stop, and Brian said that students were beginning to stare with concerned looks. We laughed about how foreign a pregnant lady in labor probably is on a college campus as we headed back for home. Brian asked what I wanted for lunch. What I was craving was blueberry pancakes from our favorite local breakfast spot up the street, but as I began to imagine what it would look like if my water broke in the middle of this restaurant, I suggested take-out Panera bagels as a distant alternative.
The contractions began to pick up in intensity and consistency, so after lunch, I decided to take a shower, hoping that the warm water might provide some relief. The shower felt great, which made me excited to be able to use the tub at the hospital to manage the pain. Around 1:00, my contractions were about 4-5 minutes apart, so I told Brian it might be time to think about heading to the hospital. He encouraged me to continue laboring at home bringing up the point that once we went to the hospital, we were going to be stuck for the rest of the day. By 2:00, I told him that we really needed to go, so we called the midwife, loaded the car, let the dogs out one more time, and closed the door, knowing we would return as a family of three. When I spoke to the midwife on call, she explained that she had a laboring mother at a different hospital, but would do her best to make it to our hospital in time for Ellie’s arrival. This made me a little nervous, but I knew she was doing the best she could and found peace knowing I would be in good hands, no matter what. When we arrived at the hospital, I walked in the front door and the woman behind the counter asked how she could help us. “I’m in labor,” I said with a smile. I’m 102% sure she did not believe me (plus I carried really small, so I probably only appeared to be about 7 months), but she checked me in and took me to a triage room. The nurse came in with a gown and ran my vitals. She definitely did not believe that I was in active labor and said to me, “Don’t you know you shouldn’t come to the hospital until you’re really in labor? Now you’re just going to have to sit here at the hospital for hours.” Theresa, the head nurse on call, came into the triage room to check and see how dilated I was. 5 centimeters and 0 station. I wanted to look in the triage nurse’s face and say, “Told you B****,” but I’m a lady (and I really wanted the nice room with the tub).
The nice room with the built in tub was currently in use by another mom, so they put me in another room and promised to move me there as soon as it opened up. My sister arrived just in time to help me change out of the icky hospital gown and into the black cotton nightgown I had purchased from Target. (Most hospitals will allow you to wear what you’d like during labor, you just have to ask). They hooked me up to a fetal heart monitor to monitor Ellie’s heart rate for about 10 minutes. Once they established that everyone was healthy and that both Ellie and I were handling labor without any complications or stress, they detached me so I could labor as I pleased. I shared my birth plan with the nurse on call who came in every so often to check on us and use the doppler to listen to Ellie’s heartrate, but who really let us be (which I so appreciated).
Long before D-Day, Brian and I had carefully thought about the people who we wanted to be present for Ellie’s birth. My sister was my no brainer. In the 28 years we’ve been together, we’ve never missed a major moment and this would be no exception. I took great comfort in her presence and felt so relieved when she walked through the door. With the exception of my husband, she is the person who knows me completely and I knew she would know what to do in moments when I was at a loss. The other two people I invited to be there are two of my best friends, Anna and Brit. Both bring an incredibly calming presence, and if I was going to be stuck in a hospital all day, I knew they would bring great distraction and entertainment (and maybe even a dance party if Ellie was up for it). Brit is a physician’s assistant and works for my midwife group, so the plan, if everything went smoothly, was for Brit to deliver Ellie. Brian and I talked about it and we loved the idea that the first human hands that would ever touch our daughter were the hands of someone who loved her, who had been praying for her since before she existed, and who would have a hand in her life as she grows. These people are my tribe, and as things progressed, I became ever more thankful for their presence and the roles each of them played in caring for me and Ellie.
The nurse came in around 5:00 p.m. to let me know that the room with the tub was now available and if I wanted to, we could transfer. The contractions had started to get really intense, so I was relieved to know that I could go and get into the tub. The nurse had just checked me and I was 6-7 cm. I waited for a break in contractions, we packed up the room, and waddled next door. I found great comfort in laboring in a rocking chair (the rhythmic movement was something that I could focus on as my sister counted….20 more seconds, 10 more seconds, coming down now, breathe), so I went straight for the chair while my friends began to fill the tub with water. The nurse came over and kneeled down in front of me to let me know that she had just spoken to the midwife who asked that I wait until I was 8 cm to get into the tub. The warm water from a tub will sometimes slow down labor, and I was progressing so well that they did not want to risk it. I told her that things were really starting to get intense and asked that she please check me. As soon as I stood up from the rocking chair, my water broke. I moved quickly to the bed as there was no longer much of a break between my contractions. The nurse checked me and with surprise (and I think a little panic) said, “You’re fully dilated!” At that point, the urge to push was too great, so I began to just listen to my body as the hospital staff turned the room into a delivery room in a matter of minutes. There was a lot of panic surrounding the fact that the midwife was still in transit, so they called in the on-call doctor just in case. I was very much in a zone at that point, but there are snipets that I remember. I remember my friend Anna running around asking if she could please call the midwife herself. I remember Brit trying to explain to the on-call doctor that she is supposed to deliver the baby (which he did not seem to think was a good idea – and to which I had to say, yes she will be delivering her, and no, you don’t get a say in that). I also remember at one point lifting my head and opening my eyes and realizing that the room had literally filled with people, all of whom were staring at me. This was it. The moment I’d been waiting for. I was about to meet my little girl.
After a bit of coaching from the wonderful nurses, I got the hang of pushing and began to make good progress. The experience was intense, but I always felt like I was in control. Pushing was physically exhausting, but oxygen helped me to catch my breath between contractions. I was having a difficult time getting her head to move under my pelvic bone (which can be difficult when you’re laying on your back). At that moment, my midwife stormed into the room. I felt so relieved that she had made it just in time. The midwife explained that I should try to push toward the ceiling (a weird concept, but it actually helped), and she got a mirror out so that I could see what I was doing (which was also a huge help). I could see the dark hair on the top of her head each time I pushed, and while it was the most intensely physically exhausting moment of my life, I knew that we were getting close and that the only way to get rid of the pain and pressure was to get her out. Ellie did not make her appearance slowly. Once I finally got her to move, she just sort of slid out all at once. It was the greatest feeling of relief and joy. Brit caught her and immediately laid her on my chest. Our little girl was finally here. During those moments directly following Ellie’s birth, time stood still. We did what parents do in those first moments. We counted toes and fingers, we marveled at her full head of hair, and we teared up as she let out her first cries before settling in on my chest. My sister (the pro) helped Ellie latch within the first hour and my girl and I learned together how to breastfeed. Family and friends came to visit and celebrate. I held my emotions together pretty well until my mom came in the door. It was as if in that moment, I finally “got” the depth of love that she has for me and my sister in a way that I couldn’t before that day.
There are moments of that day that are a little fuzzy, hours that went by that felt like minutes, and things that I see in pictures that I have no recollection of – but meeting my daughter for the first time is a moment that I will never forget. This is our story. It’s filled with moments of joy, moments of pain, moments of laughter, and moments of tears. Birth is not an end, it’s a beginning. A beginning of millions of moments as a Mama.
Want to read more birth stories? Here’s a few of my favorites:
Baby Catcher: Chronicles of a Modern Midwife by Peggy Vincent
Birth Without Fear – Blog and Facebook site
The Business of Being Born – documentary available on Netflix
Life After Birth 