My youngest child just celebrated his fourth birthday. He is a spirited little boy—sharp, affectionate, and, at times, a handful. However, my experience during my pregnancy with him was far from joyful. It was not simply the typical discomforts of pregnancy that I endured, such as swollen ankles or nausea. Instead, I faced a situation where my body felt like it was falling apart.
At one point, I found myself crawling around my home, picking up toys, as the sofa had become my prison. As my due date of March 24 approached, I was left contemplating whether I would be planting my garden on my hands and knees or with a baby in tow. From 14 weeks onward, I experienced daily contractions, my uterus resembling a restless toddler that refused to settle down.
The final week of pregnancy felt like an endless cycle of contractions every eight to ten minutes, sometimes so intense that they seemed like labor, but mostly just a frustrating inconvenience. On March 26, in the midst of a long night of contractions, my water broke. It wasn’t a dramatic flood, but enough to necessitate a change of clothes and linens.
I woke my partner, David, and told him I had an accident, asking him to fill the birthing pool in our kitchen. I contacted my midwife, a remarkable 70-year-old woman with her hair tied back in a bun, who assured me she would arrive shortly. I also called my doula, who came quickly, and asked my eldest daughter, Mia, to watch over my youngest, Sophie, who was only a toddler. As I put a chocolate cake in the oven—because that’s just what I do—I realized that little had changed in my labor progression.
As the hours passed, my midwife suggested taking some herbal tinctures. I even nursed my 17-month-old to encourage contractions. Yet, as the day turned to night, the room felt crowded with family and friends, all waiting for the arrival of my baby. Unfortunately, my son was content being high in my pelvis, making it difficult for him to descend.
As evening wore on, the number of people in our home felt overwhelming. Despite the encouraging atmosphere, my contractions remained steady, yet I was stuck at 7 to 8 centimeters. The exhaustion began to set in, compounded by the anxiety from a previous traumatic delivery experience. David and I took a moment to shower and regroup. We shared a few minutes of rest, but when we woke up, I realized my contractions had slowed, likely due to my body’s fatigue.
In that moment, we faced an agonizing choice: to leave the comfort of our home and head to the hospital. This is the part of the story where many might say, “At least you transferred to the hospital,” or “You just wanted a healthy baby.” The truth is, I sobbed as I got dressed, cried while packing, and wept during the drive to the hospital.
Upon arrival, I continued to cry through the intake process and as I was prepped with an IV. I was fortunate to have compassionate professionals advocating for a natural birth, and my midwife stayed by my side for hours, determined to help my son descend. Although my body eventually responded to a small amount of pitocin, I still found myself crying.
Ultimately, my son was born healthy and weighing over 10 pounds with just two pushes, but I couldn’t escape the grief of my altered birth plan. I had envisioned a serene delivery at home, surrounded by loved ones, celebrating with cake and joy. His birth was meant to be a healing experience, especially after my previous traumas.
It is important to acknowledge that not all births go according to plan, and though I am grateful for my son’s health, this experience was layered with sorrow. If you’re considering the journey of parenthood, resources like Resolve’s guide on intrauterine insemination and Make A Mom’s fertility supplements may provide valuable insights. Additionally, the BabyMaker Home Insemination Kit can be an excellent option for those looking to conceive at home.
Summary
This article reflects on the emotional complexities surrounding the birth of my son, emphasizing the grief I experienced despite his healthy arrival. It explores the challenges of an unexpected labor and the realization that a healthy birth does not erase the feelings of loss surrounding one’s birth plan.
Leave a Reply