Michelle is half of the husband and wife team behind Twig Creative, and we are happy to have her share her birth story.
My husband Steve and I knew that we didn’t want to wait too long into our marriage to begin trying for a family. However, when that trying turned into a quick reality, we were completely overwhelmed with fear. Everyone told us nine months would be a long time to prepare. It was and it wasn’t!
A few weeks before my due date, I was walking around 90% effaced and 3 centimeters dilated. I still had my baby shower to attend and a terrible cold to overcome, not to mention several weeks before my due date. I snapped a picture of myself right after that baby shower–the last pregnant profile I would capture.
That evening, I began to feel cramping pains in my stomach. I didn’t think too much of them, but they continued for quite some time. One of my biggest fears in pregnancy was the unknown of contractions. Would I know what they were? How would I know if they were real or not? We were visiting with Steve’s family and I finally realized and expressed that I thought I was having contractions. I soon understood exactly what they were as they worsened. We went home and decided to make chocolate chip cookies. Seemed crazy to me at the time but I realize now how much of a waiting game labor is! The night progressed and so did the contractions. Phone calls to my mom were made, final items were packed into the hospital bag, and our nervousness of it actually being THE night heightened. Once the contractions were about five minutes apart, we made the short trip over to the hospital.
It was just a little before midnight when they admitted me. It was surreal. I remember Steve saying to the nurse, “So there’s no turning back right?” We couldn’t believe that parenthood was on our docket for the night. Just as the head nurse began talking to me about my water breaking, it broke! There was meconium in it, which meant that I wouldn’t be able to hold her right away. As we tried to sleep and rest for the upcoming event, I listened to the hum of the baby’s heart beat. It started dropping. I began a silent prayer as the nurses ran in and out discussing a possible c-section. When my prayer finished, her heart rate stabilized. I looked at Steve across the room. We were grateful that the baby was okay.
At nearly 6 am, it was finally time for some action. The two nurses who had spent the whole night with me–chatting, patting my face with cold cloths, offering strength–were just about off shift. I absolutely loved them. Steve began a drawing for me on the wall hung dry erase board but he never got to finish, he was quickly called over to hold a leg and the pushing began. The 10 seconds of pushing that the nurse counted definitely didn’t match up with the counting going on in my head. Just as I had my fears throughout pregnancy, Steve had his fears about the labor process. But when it came right down to it, he was a rock. I loved having him by my side, coaching me on, playing a little Nora Jones for me, and doing all he could to comfort me. I continued pushing for 2 ½ hours. I couldn’t believe that my body could handle such a feat. I thought my head and stomach were going to explode. The baby’s head was low for such a long time but she just wouldn’t budge. I watched in a mirror how her head showed when I pushed. My doctor then came in and it was go time. Pushing became completely exhausting and they decided to use a vacuum to help her out. I remember Steve’s coaching so strongly in the end. It was finally time. At 8:54 am, a week and a half before her due date, our little Jordan Lucy was here.
My emotions overcame me. I couldn’t believe I did it, I couldn’t believe that that was our little girl. We were in awe. Steve snapped pictures as they weighed her and prepared her for me to hold. I will never forget the way she looked when they handed her to me. She had one hand on her right cheek and her eyes were so big and gentle. She was beautiful. Everyone thought she looked just like me, probably because of her round chubby cheeks. My mom was in the waiting room, and we both cried as she saw me–her only girl holding her own little girl.
Becoming a mom is definitely the hardest thing I’ve ever experienced and will forever be a learning game. But the more moms I talk to, the more I realize we can all relate. And the more I stop and notice the grandeur of my child, the more I appreciate and love her. Now with our second girl due this Summer, I don’t feel so panicked and confused as I did nearly 4 years ago; I feel excitement to see this new little child and to see Jordan with a friend of her very own.
