On February 22, 2021 I went to the doctor for my last prenatal visit as my 2/24 due date approached. It was around lunchtime on what was suppose to be my second-to-last day of work before maternity leave. I checked in and waited as I normally did, but on this day in particular I had a lot on my mind.

AJ had recently accepted a job almost 1,000 miles away and our moving company had given us a speedy timeline. We’d liked to have had 3-4 weeks to adjust first, but we’d just learned we had to be out of our apartment exactly 1 week after my due date. As you can imagine this weighed heavy on my anxiety. How would I be feeling 1 week after? Could I make it in the car for 14+ hours? What about the baby? Isn’t traveling with an infant that young unheard of? Would the doctor even allow it? And the most concerning question: what if the baby doesn’t come until after my due date??? Due dates are relative after all, not guaranteed.

At this point I was prepared to beg for a same-day induction. My sister-in-law told me crying helps persuade the doctor and I wasn’t above it, LOL. Needless to say I didn’t stop my mind from wandering to all its most anxious places while sitting in that waiting room. I figured by the time they called me in the emotion would be written all over my face.

A nurse brought me back and I explained my situation to my doctor. I asked the million dollar question… and she wouldn’t budge. The earliest she could get me in was the morning of my due date and that in itself was more than most women could say.

So I made the appointment and went home feeling sad that I probably wouldn’t go into spontaneous labor like I’d always imagined, but happy to know I’d at least have that week to recover before the big move. I told my boss I’d feel more comfortable with a little buffer room before my scheduled delivery. I had to get my mind right. I let the teams know that it would be my last day, got an abundance of well wishes from co-workers, handed off last-minute files and was able to log off early. 

My mom was on her way to stay with us and AJ was temporarily working remote with his new job, so I had plenty of company as I anticipated the induction.

That night we went and grabbed food, hung out, watched a movie. It was a great night. AJ and I went to the room and laid down around 10pm. We were watching Family Feud as we do most nights, lights still on. AJ was almost asleep but I was still awake, my mind staying rather busy in those final days. Around 10:30pm I felt something foreign. It wasn’t a cramp. It wasn’t a baby kick. It was nothing I’d ever felt before. I can only describe it as a pop that seemed to shoot through my belly, immediately followed by an undeniable contraction.

I’d read up on what it feels like when your water breaks. One of my good friends pointed me to a Facebook group fairly early on in my pregnancy. It was for expectant mothers due the same month as me and ended up being a place I spent most of my screen time in the evenings – reading people’s questions, others answers, and posting some questions of my own. Almost all posts about water breaking described it as a “pop”, so I got up. I told AJ something weird had happened and that I felt like I needed to stand up to see if it was my water. At first I was fine, but as I made my way to the bathroom gravity did its thing.

That moment was so surreal to me. The sense of wonder that came with it reminded me of that feeling you get as a kid when you wake up well before dawn to pack the car and travel somewhere really awesome. That type of impending excitement, that’s what it felt like. 

At this point AJ was with me. We stood there smiling and I just kept saying, “what do I do now?”. He must have told me 10 times to go wake up my mom but, in my defense, it was hard to focus. I finally got my mom and called the hospital to let them know we were coming. We got dressed, grabbed our hospital bag and headed to the truck. We all hugged, smiling ear to ear in hopes that we’d get to meet baby boy very soon.

I hadn’t felt any true signs of labor until then, but those contractions were clear as day. I’d always been told “when they are labor contractions you’ll know,” insinuating that they’d be so painful you can’t ignore them. They were pretty much right about that, but at least they start small.

We pulled up to the hospital 5 minutes later (thankful to have lived that close). We parked in the deck nearby because *ya girl was trying to be a trooper* and walk herself to the door. AJ ended up having to hold my arm and stop every 30 seconds as the contractions grew more painful each time. We made it inside and got checked into a temporary room. I put on a gown and AJ texted our families to let them know what was going down. We took some selfies for memories, answered a million questions for the nurses and watched the clock move hours forward in what felt like minutes.

Once we got to our labor and delivery room I was really starting to feel the pain. The nurse told me to rate each contraction. I was trying to stay tough and hold off on the epidural as long as possible knowing it would make me immobile. I hit my first 7/10 and told both the nurse and AJ that I couldn’t handle much more. 

Epidurals are an incredibly popular topic of conversation. Enough so that I was entirely freaked out to get it, even though I was entirely sure the alternative wasn’t for me. When the anesthesiologist came in I shed my first tear of the night. 

At this point it was probably 2am. I was sitting up on the side of my bed, the nurse holding me still and AJ sitting directly in front of me on the couch. As the catheter went into my back I cried and told them I was scared. My mind was racing through all the worst-case scenarios I’d heard of happening. I was praying none would happen to me. ***SIDEBAR: It’s incredible how much anxiety can come from the internet, peers, people sharing their thoughts on things they’ve never even experienced themselves. I’m convinced we’d all live happier lives if we didn’t pass along every single thing we’ve ever heard and had a little more faith in God’s provision.

Anyways, it was in that scary moment that I felt the depth of support from my life partner. AJ wasn’t physically standing right next to me or holding my hand (the nurse had it covered), but he locked eyes with me, talked me through it, and it felt like he was actually feeling everything I was feeling. It is so hard to describe but this was only the first of many obstacles he’d get me through that evening. Birth is 100% a bonding experience.

Things really turned around for awhile after that. The pain went away completely. The nurse left us alone. We hit the lights and tried to sleep. AJ was more successful than me, as the IV was quite literally pumping icy fluids through my veins. I kept calling the nurse to bring me warm blankets so my arm didn’t freeze off. That, plus the claustrophobic moment in which I realized I couldn’t move either one of my legs, not even a little bit, was the only hiccup we’d had so far.

Time flew on by. I slept a little. 7am came pretty fast. The nurses changed shifts and so did the doctors. They kept checking my dilation. I was admitted at 3.5 cm but had reached 5 by this time. We rested some more. 

Somewhere between 8-9am they told me I was at 9 cm. What?! Since when?!! My body was doing it’s thang while I was numbed up, sleeping away.

That’s when the process truly started. So many things happened in the next 2 hours. They kept adjusting the level of pitocin in my IV – a drug meant to help push contractions along. They would turn it off when they were worried it was causing the baby’s heart rate to drop. They kept turning me on my sides and sticking a big peanut-shaped bouncy ball between my calves (the “peanut ball”) to try and urge the dilation along, but this was causing the baby’s heart rate to drop as well. He wasn’t having it.

They asked me to start pushing, but pushing made it clear there was a problem: the baby’s head was facing the wrong direction. Now… I had no idea what this meant, but was quickly clued into the direction a baby’s head needs to be in order for it to pass under a women’s pelvic bone (I never took anatomy).

The doctor came in to confirm there was a problem after 30 minutes of pushing. She told me I needed to make a decision. I could either opt for a c-section now or keep pushing and risk his head getting lodged deep enough that when I did have the c-section, they may accidentally rupture my bladder and/or other organs in the process of reaching him. In my head I was thinking, “This was not what God intended for my birth story. Nope. No way.” I asked the doctor how long I was allowed to push before we had to make the call. She told me an hour… so I told her to get out of my face and let me get back to it.

JK. But I did tell her to let me go another 30 minutes. She left the room and we resumed the pushing process.

From that moment forward I was determined to have this baby the way I intended. With every contraction I gave it my absolute all while telling God it wasn’t going down like this. Don’t get me wrong, c-sections are the healthiest way to deliver a baby in certain scenarios. They aren’t bad. They don’t make you any less of a strong women or mother. If it comes to it, they are what they are and must be done. I just felt an urge to keep going the route I was on. So I did.

When we hit that hour mark the nurse looked at me and said she’d never seen anything like this before: he had turned his head around. That may have surprised her but it didn’t surprise me. I’d been having a conversation with God and kicking my own ass for the last hour!!

Labor and delivery is such a crazy experience. You hear how others went, you read what it might feel like, you envision that day 100 times over in your head. But no matter what you do it just isn’t something you can truly prepare for. A few things that surprised me:

  1. Your nurse is who gets you through labor, not your doctor. He/She pops in at the very end when your baby’s head is already partially hanging out.
  2. Pushing isn’t constant nor is it rushed like in the movies. You only push on contractions so you’re literally chillin’ there in between, catching your breath while your nurse makes small talk.
  3. The epidural numbs almost everything. There’s just no way to numb that cramping in your stomach when you’re leaning as far forward as possible, grabbing the back of your thighs.
  4. The epidural is not something that can “wear off”, or at least not in my experience. It’s inserted by catheter and is a drip that can be increased, decreased, or shut off entirely at any time.

Pushing went on an hour or so longer. I really have no concept of time at this point. AJ was right there with me, holding my right leg up (which was probably kind of challenging since it was 100% dead weight). He was the BEST cheerleader. He told me I was doing amazing every single time I pushed. I knew he had to be milking it a little to motivate me but, hey… it worked. The guy is a natural coach.

I had asked him a number of times during my pregnancy if he was going to watch the birth or stick close to my head. I don’t think he really knew yet. He probably wanted to see what it was like when the day came. However, I knew that I personally was not interested in the mirror they offer. I have a queasy stomach. The funny thing is… I’m not affected by the sight of other people’s blood or injuries. It’s my own I can’t handle (something I learned when I cut my finger on the tomato slicer during a Subway shift in 10th grade… my wimpy self almost fainted and called my dad to pick me up).

He ended up down there… as you can tell by his holding my right leg. He saw it all and didn’t seem freaked out, at least not that I could tell. He just kept smiling and coaching me along. He tells the next part best but I’ll give it a shot: apparently at the very end when the doctor and delivery team came in and I was on my last few pushes, the baby’s head was visible enough that the doctor grabbed him with one hand and pulled his entire body out in a matter of seconds. No passing of the head, then shoulders, then lower body. Nope. His whole dang body with one hand. Sounds crazy, and felt just as crazy! One minute I was giving it my all, the next I felt deflated. 

At 11:22am on February 23, 2021 he was finally here. The delivery team took him to the table immediately after and checked him. AJ looked at me and said, “You did great but uhh….. you good now? Cuz I’m going over there.” We laughed and he rushed over to meet our baby boy for the very first time.

The whole placenta part was a blur. I mean it hurt like a mother but I was too busy staring at my son and his father to care. AJ immediately called his mom. He held her up to the baby on FaceTime, smiling like crazy. He totally turned the camera to me for a split second and said, “and there’s Sam”. Don’t mind my legs split wide open… no worries, LOL. I had to forgive the guy. He was in such a happy foggy daze, as was I.

That’s when they picked our baby up and put him on my chest. Duke. Our son.

I’ll spare you full details of what followed, but will list it out for my own record.

  • They swaddled baby Duke and gave him to AJ next, while they viciously “massaged” my stomach to make sure I was all good to go.
  • They carted us to our overnight room where Duke got his own little bed.
  • The cramps and contractions that followed my delivery were insane. The epidural was taken out already, but the pitocin was still in to make sure I didn’t bleed to much. That was the worst pain ever, enough to warrant some heavy painkillers.
  • We napped, praise God. We got Chick-Fil-A, praise God again. The only thing I wanted after birth was a CFA sweet tea. Can anyone relate?

We spent two days in the hospital learning our little buddy. We got a full rundown of breastfeeding to which AJ and I both paid much attention to and struggled with a bit. Little did we know it would be even harder when we got home (hardest part of the first 1+ months of parenthood for SURE). We watched movies, tried to get some rest, took the nurses up on the whole “we’ll take your baby to the nursery to let you sleep” offer. We basked in this newfound adventure and we loved every second of it.

Today is March 30, 2021 and it has been exactly 5 weeks since this day went down. Here is a little video montage of our guy at his 1 month mark.

The rest is for another day. Thanks for reading. We are so in love with our little boy.