My baby girl turns three tomorrow, this is her birth story.
This time, three years ago, I was on my way to the hospital. I was fairly certain my water had broken, and was encouraged to head in to check it out. Contractions were very mild and quite irregular, so I was sure it would be a while still before we met our sweet little baby. After all, first time moms typically labour for 8-12+ hours.
When we arrived at the hospital, we checked in with the ER and we’re sent to Labour & Delivery for assessment. All of the tests for amniotic fluid were inconclusive, and I was not dilated so home we went.
I still felt like this was it, so instructed my husband to hit the McDonald’s drive thru for cheeseburgers (can’t be hungry while having a baby).
When we got home it was around 11pm. I tried to sleep, but was uncomfortable laying down as contractions had started picking up. They were still manageable so I sat by myself, in the dark (what I wanted in that moment) and rode them out, waiting for them to get to that elusive 4:1:1 we were told about in prenatal class and by the nurses at the hospital. By about 1:30am, they were pretty strong, but not the required 1 minute long. My instinct told me to go back anyways. So that we did.
When we arrived again, I was checked. 1 cm!! Progress!! But not nearly enough to get a room. The nurse told us to walk around for an hour to get things going, then come back for another check.
At 3:06am, I sent my mom a text explaining the situation. I was planning on having her with me during the delivery.
This is when things get a little blurry for me. We walked a bit, about 20 minutes I’m told by my husband, and the contractions started getting really hard to handle, but I was determined not to go back before my hour was up and to power through. I felt like I was going to throw up, could barely walk, and really had to go to the bathroom. I felt like I couldn’t go on. I felt like I was failing. I now realize this was transition, but at the time felt so defeated. I couldn’t even handle early labour, or so I thought.
By the time I waddled my way back to L&D, my body was spontaneously pushing. The nurses told me to stop (ha!). They checked me and sure enough, 10cm. Less than an hour later. They got the room ready, called my doctor, and about 15 mins later it was go time.
At 4:22am on Sunday, September 23, 2012, I heard the words “it’s a girl!” and I became a mama.
Three years has flown by (although at times, life felt static). My sweet baby S is now an independent, talkative, energetic preschooler, with a smile and a heart to warm a room. Happy birthday baby girl. I’m so glad I get to be your mama!