Our Birth Story.

My water broke on a Saturday at 39 weeks exactly one week before my due date. After laboring for 13 hours Rowan Harding joined us in the world. This is our birth story.

I can honestly say it was the happiest moment of my life, that split second where my son went from being something that almost felt like a dream inside my body, to a healthy baby boy in my arms. Pure joy came over me as I wrapped my arms around him and said, ‘you’re here,’ before kissing him on the head and looking up into my husband’s crying eyes.

No matter how many birth stories you read or hear, each one is completely unique. And if you’re ever planning to or have gone through giving birth, your recollection will be different than mine. No matter your experience or relationship with birthing a child, here’s just one more birth story for you. This by no means will coach you through it, or even prepare those who are planning on giving birth - just a moment to revisit my experience, more for my own memory as my son continues to drift further from being a newborn.

The day I went into labor was pretty perfect. You may think, ‘obviously! you went into labor with your first child.’ But even before labor began I couldn’t have asked for a better day. It was a Saturday, exactly one week before my due date. I woke up 39 weeks pregnant, and Andrew thought since our baby’s arrival was getting close we should spend the day doing something together that we really enjoy, to have fun, get out of the house. We had no idea it would be our last day just the two of us. For those that know us, you can guess that our idea of a great Saturday was getting out of town and hitting some of our favorite thrift stores. All day Andrew continued to joke that we were going to walk the baby out and proceeded to park in the back of every parking lot to get mama her steps. I felt so good that day, tired of course after being out and about for a while, but comfortable, happy.

Not 15 minutes after our return home to Black Mountain, my water broke around 2:30pm. I had just been lying on the couch when I felt the first small gush and as quickly as I could, ran to the bathroom to sit on the toilet and figure out what was happening. Statistically speaking I assumed my water wouldn’t break at all. Even more statistically speaking for first time moms, just assumed baby boy would arrive late, so you can only imagine my surprise as I sat on the toilet while amniotic fluid continued to rush out of me. Seriously, I was so overcome with shock that I just kept laughing and yelling, ‘It’s definitely my water breaking!’ It was time to call the doctor, and an hour and a half later we were at the hospital. Being the type A person that I am, our bags were packed, we were ready to go, so while my contractions began, we ate lunch at home, and I labored on a birthing ball for a while, before my contractions kicked into high gear. Being prepared made such a difference in my state of calm and really gave me the ability to focus on my needs in the moment instead of thinking about future needs and the stuff we would need. Something I didn’t know was that after your water breaks you just continue to leak amniotic fluid, so without having had a period in ten months was lucky to have maxi pads on hand, but I still had to sit on towels both at home and on our way to the hospital.

Upon initial examination at the hospital at 4pm I was already dilated 5 centimeters, so it felt things were moving along swiftly, and baby boy was ready to make his entrance into the world.

Here’s the thing about labor, no matter how prepared you are, or how thorough your birth plan may be, things likely won’t go exactly according to plan. And you know what? That’s okay, or at least for me it was, while we had a very thoroughly written birth plan, discussed in depth with our doctor, the end goal was to get the baby out while keeping mom and baby safe. Andrew and I both went into the experience with the expectation that it was very likely things would veer off course, and we would have to be adaptable, all that we emphasized was that if we were seeing risks or interventions needed to happen that it be clearly communicated to both of us.

I labored around my room, in and out of the tub, walking, standing, laying down, on a birth ball, using a peanut ball, all of it - for six and a half hours, and then I steered from my birth plan and took the drugs. My goal had been to deliver unmedicated, but after that long of intense contractions and still not being to 10 centimeters, I physically didn’t think I had the energy to just breathe through them much longer. He didn’t show it even the slightest up til that point, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen Andrew more relieved than when the epidural kicked in, and I stopped screaming every minute. Laboring in the tub worked really well for me for a while, but I found I was the most comfortable up walking around our room, and hanging on Andrew when the contractions came. That’s where I started loosing momentum, because after a good few hours I got too tired to continue to be able to walk around on my own, and felt I needed to lie down. But for me, lying down on my side was where my contractions felt the most intense so that’s what ultimately led to my epidural decision.

Postpartum life brings up a whole roller coaster of thoughts and emotions, and in weeks after Rowan’s birth I definitely went through intense emotions of feeling like I had given up, or let myself down steering from my plans and having an epidural. But at the time - in the moment, it was absolutely the best decision I could have made, because after it was administered, my labor continued for an additional 6 hours, almost five of them pushing, and I was comfortable the entire time. Pushing was still extremely hard work, but not being able to feel one more contraction really felt like such a gift.

There were some intense moments, I was put on oxygen, the baby almost needed to be rotated or more assisted in removal, while I was crowning they brought in the emergency team because Rowan’s blood pressure was dropping quickly. One of my biggest fears on a personal level totally happened and I shit myself, multiple times. None of it mattered in the end. The funny thing about the whole experience is all modesty goes out the window, I didn’t care who saw me naked, how many people examined my vagina, what I looked liked, smelled like or anything. All that mattered was Rowan’s safe arrival into the world and we had just that, he came out absolutely perfect, in what was the most natural (and honestly, physically unnatural) and beautiful thing in the world at 5:04 am on Sunday morning. I feel we were very lucky, we have a great relationship with our doctor, and the staff at the hospital was absolutely incredible in communicating with us, supporting me and just being overall good sports when I needed it most. I really could not have asked for a better group of medical professionals.

I learned just how strong I am, but honestly could not have gotten through it as positively as I did with out the amazing support and coaching from my partner. Andrew was incredible throughout it all, and understood my needs, exactly as I needed them, from don’t touch me, to rubbing my back and singing to me, to making me laugh and pouring out positive affirmations and endless love. After going through childbirth with him so strongly, actively and lovingly by my side, when we walked out the hospital doors 36 hours after Rowan was born, I knew we could handle the journey we were beginning, and parenthood would be an amazing adventure if we were doing it together.

And then we both cried the whole way home because we were so happy, and nervous and exhausted, and it was absolutely beautiful.