Birth Story: When Birth Plans Change and You Have No Regrets

The following is the pregnancy and birth story of a dear client of mine. I encourage my clients to seek out empowered birth stories as they prepare for birth. This mama and couple prepared with lots of education, reflection, and prayer in pregnancy and had a very challenging but supported and empowered birth experience.

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Meadow's Story

It’s hard to know where to start when talking about your birth experience. As it is one big moment in your life, but a life is so woven through with big and little moments. All the previous things you have gone through define how you process the new ones. With that being said I think there is a brief background that needs to be laid in telling my birth story. 

I have always wanted to be a mom. It has been at the core of my being since I was a little girl. As much as art and writing have defined who I am, the desire to have children has always been etched into me. My parents had me young, my mother was nineteen, my father was twenty. Kids raising kids, is how they always defined it. Mom, being so young, was filled with fun, laughter, pranks and lots of stories. My friends always wanted to come to my house to hang with “Meadow’s Mom”. Our house seemed to have a revolving open door, where each night we had either some of my friends, or my brother's friends over. I assumed my story would be the same, I would marry young. Children would come quickly and our house would be filled with our children’s friends. Well, as anyone who has lived long enough knows, expectations often fall flat. The one thing you can count on in life is, prepare to be surprised. 

I didn’t find my husband in my twenties like I expected. The career I thought I would have writing books and illustrating turned out to be a beautiful dream, one I had to let go. My youngest brother decided he wanted nothing to do with the way we were raised, turning to drugs and alcohol. We still sometimes have periods where we aren't sure if he is alive or not as months can go by without a word. And, most surprising of all, my vibrant, playful mother, always so strong, was suddenly diagnosed with stage four cancer. She had just turned fifty that January. So beautiful and full of life, she slipped through our fingers in four months. She wasn't there to see Josh propose to me. She couldn't help me pick my dress, plan my wedding or see me walk down the aisle. She didn’t even get to meet the beautiful woman my brother married. And my father got remarried, a bittersweet event as we love my father’s wife, but it was hard to see moms place taken. So many huge life events we have had to walk through without her. So when my husband Josh and I began trying to get pregnant, she wasn’t there to answer my questions. It wasn't until my thirties that I found out she too had PCOS. Josh and I went on a two year journey of trying naturally, then turning to fertility centers, and looking at the possibility of adopting. Then, as He so often does, God surprised us. In the middle of a break from fertility treatments, we got pregnant on our own. 

After the reality of being pregnant set in, as we moved into the less scary second trimester, I began to think about birth. I knew I wanted to find a way to make mom a part of my daughter coming into the world. If she had lived she would have been there in the room with us when her granddaughter was born. Since she couldn’t be, I knew I wanted to try and have a natural, low intervention, vaginal birth, the way she had with my two brothers and me. This led us down a road of studying natural vaginal birth. Josh and I learned all we could about the process, as we believe knowledge can calm fear. As we began making decisions, we came to the point of building our birth team. Early on, Josh and I knew we wanted midwives and a doula. God just absolutely blessed both. He opened all the doors to deliver with the OC Midwives at Hoag. From my first meeting with the midwives I felt so at peace to have their team deliver our baby. Pam, our doula, was basically placed in our lap. She helped deliver two other children in

our church, and both families had nothing but incredible things to say. After we met for the first time I knew she was the right choice. I went into the end of my third trimester feeling confident in our birth team. I can honestly say I was eager, at peace, totally unafraid of the birth process. 

Josh had to book his paternity leave in advance, so he took the week before our daughters' due date off. We figured if she was late we would just leave it in God's hands and figure it out. I am so glad he took that time, because we had four beautiful last days as a family of two. We took our three dogs to the beach, went on hikes, walked around our old town shops, and just soaked up the time together. 

On Thursday, May 20th at 3:00pm my water broke. I thought? I wasn’t sure at first because it is not like the movies, all coming out in one big gush. I thought maybe I peed my pants? I stood there, feeling my shorts being soaked and thought, did I pee? I don’t think I peed. Maybe I peed? I went to the bathroom and changed my shorts, but it happened again. When I went back to the bathroom then there was a big gush, leaving no more room for doubt. I told Josh and we reached out to Pam. She told us to rest as much as possible since labor would probably happen during the night. 

When learning about labor, I was taught to try and not focus on it for as long as possible. By the time I was able to rest, the contractions were getting stronger. They felt like strong period cramps that stretched all along my belly to my back. They were too strong for me to sleep, so I told my husband I wanted to cook dinner. The kitchen is my happy place, so with my favorite audiobook on, I made dinner. I also decided to make strawberry shortcakes, as they are my favorite. After a good dinner, along with an episode of Friends, I told Josh to sleep as much as he could. I would get him when I needed him, but I knew I would be fine during the early stages alone. 

As Josh laid down in our room, I prayed and went over my memory verses, snuggled our dogs, and put a movie on. As the hours went on, the contracts were becoming harder to manage. I would get onto the yoga ball or the toilet to try and help the pain. I couldn't focus on anything else but the contraction when it was happening, so I knew I was progressing, just not how much. Around midnight I knew I needed Josh. Just as I was about to wake him up he came out on his own. His presence alone helped me feel much calmer. One of the things I love most about him is he keeps a cool head during stress. 

He drew me a bath and as I labored with the warm water he began to time the contractions. As he timed about thirty minutes worth, we noticed an irregular pattern. Every third or fourth contraction was lasting around three minutes long. Sometimes there would only be a thirty second break in between before the next contraction hit. They were getting closer together as well, so we called Pam. Pam told Josh they still weren't consistent enough for her to come over, but to let her know if they got closer together or if my behavior changed. Up to this point I was still myself in between contractions. I don’t remember when the shift happened but according to Josh around 1:30am I stopped communicating normally.

From here things get sort of jumbled and hazy in my mind. The pain was overwhelming when it happened. During the break from the actual contraction it was like, I was no longer myself. My conscious mind seemed to sort of take a back seat. 

Pam arrived around 2:30am, I don’t remember her arriving but I remember her suddenly being there. I do recall her prayer for us which brought me great comfort. My mind was swallowed up with managing the contractions and staying calm. Time seemed to bend, to the point where I wasn't really sure how much time was passing. I remember trying different positions that Pam suggested to help labor along. After some time of this she suggested going to the hospital as the ride was going to be hard. 

I know the ride felt short, but the walk from the car to the hospital doors felt nearly impossible. We got there around 4:45am, so it was a ghost town. As we pulled up Josh helped me out of the car. He tried his best to help me walk to the front entrance but the pain from the contractions was all consuming. I couldn't walk through them, having to stop as each one hit. They wrecked my body with pain and nausea. It’s hard to even describe the feeling now, as time has made the memory of the pain foggy. I do remember the need to just hold on to something, in order to bear it until the contraction ended. They seemed to come every thirty seconds or so, lasting for so long. We were barely making progress to the door. In that moment I felt incredibly overwhelmed, reciting in my head Psalms 121:1-2 “I lift my eyes to the hills and where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, maker of heaven and earth.” Help, the Lord sent. A nurse saw us struggling and came out with a wheelchair. That wheelchair boosted my spirits. As we entered the hospital I felt relief that we had made it to the place where our child would be born.

After a blur of documents being signed and an incredibly painful dilation check I was admitted. I had told Josh and Pam I did not want to hear my dilation number, but Josh said when I was admitted I had dilated to 7cm and was 80% effaced. Thankfully I didn’t know it, but there I would be stuck for hours. 

We were in our room by 5:30am and I began feeling intermittent pressure. The contractions were incredibly strong. It was pain like nothing I had endured before, making it hard to even breathe during them. It felt like all I was, was the pain. The breaks in between were so short that I felt myself breaking down physically. I had also been nauseous for hours so eating and drinking were almost impossible. At 6:00am I decided to try and take a shower. I sat on the yoga ball in the water, trying to move so our daughter could get in an optimal position. I could tell my strength was waning, physically and mentally. I was beginning to think I couldn’t go much longer when Josh said, “Just this one, honey, you just have to get through this one.” It was like suddenly in all this fog of pain, that phrase was a lighthouse beacon. I began to chant it through each contraction. It seemed to give me some control and strength over the waves. 

Around 7:00am and back in bed, I knew I needed something. I tried the nitrous but it didn’t help at all. All it seemed to do was make me feel dizzy, plus the mask made it hard to breathe. I gave up on the gas, focusing on just tugging at the sheets, or anything I could twist in my hands during the surges. I couldn't always tell who, but during each contraction Josh and Pam’s hands were there. They were performing counter pressure, moving my hair out of my eyes, trying to get me to drink water. I never felt alone, which gave me the strength to keep going. I tried to get up to use the bathroom but as I stood, wave after wave hit me. I could feel the contraction peak, then it began to subside only to peak again. It was like I was having contractions doubling up on each other with no break in between. I began to cry and gave up, getting back in the bed. I had another check and could tell, even though I didn’t hear the dilation number, that I was stuck. I started to feel discouraged, but I kept chanting, “just this one, you only have to get through this one.” 

At 9:00am Pam told me if I could empty my bladder it could help my body progress. I literally grit my teeth, forcing myself out of bed. A contraction hit, during it I prayed to God to help me just get to the toilet. In a few contractions I made it, finally emptying my bladder. I had honestly not even noticed how much I needed to pee. We stayed there for a while, Josh holding me, letting me tug on a towel he had wrapped around his waist. “Just this one,” he whispered in my ear, “just get through this one.” 

I made it back to the bed, trying to sway during the waves, twisting the sheets, chanting what had now become my mantra. I didn’t know how long we had been there, it felt like it would never end, but I knew it couldn't last forever. At 10:00am I was checked again, as I had begun to feel the need to push. I still was not completely dilated. It was then I felt defeated. Pam and Josh prayed over me, asking God to let me progress. But at 10:30am I absolutely hit a wall. I cried and asked if I was too far gone to get an epidural. The midwife said no, I could definitely get one. I remember telling Josh and Pam sorry, apologizing that I couldn't do it. I was met with nothing but encouragement, kindness and told there was no reason to say sorry. From then on I was just holding on that the pain had an end in sight. 

I had opted out of getting a port in my arm when we first arrived, because I didn’t want to need an epidural. However, now the nurses had to try and get a port in my arm as I was battling against the contractions. They couldn't get a vein, Josh telling me later that when they finally found one blood shot all over my arm. He said all he cared about was me not seeing it, as I cannot stand the sight of blood. To be honest, I was only vaguely aware of a poking sensation in my arm. Later, my arm would be covered in bruises from the failed attempts to get the needle in. 

We were transferred into a smaller room where I could labor with the epidural. At 11:10am the anesthesiologist arrived. The hardest part of my entire labor was trying to be still through the contractions as the anesthesiologist put the needle in my spine. I remember digging my nails into my leg to try and keep still. I begged God that if I had to have a contraction when the needle was put in my back that He could please make it a short one. As so many of the surges were lasting three to five minutes long, I didn’t know if I could keep still. In His mercy He answered my prayer. After ten minutes of the epidural being administered it was like who I was suddenly came back. I looked up, actually seeing Josh’s face. “Hi honey,” I said. His face crumbled, eyes filling with tears. As he cried he hugged and kissed me, telling me it was so good to see me. I hadn’t been me in hours, but my mind was back, fully present. I cannot accurately describe the incredible feeling of the pain being gone. It was truly perfectly done, because I could still fully move, feel below my waist, but the pain of the contractions had vanished. 

At 11:45am the midwives came in to check me. I had dilated to 9.5cm, all my body needed was to relax. Hearing that was incredible. They placed an internal monitor on our daughter's head to better track her heart rate. At this point the exhaustion truly hit, I could suddenly tell just how tired I was. The midwives asked if Pam could have me rest in different positions to try and help me finish dilating. Pam said she had it under control. The nurses and midwives left us alone for a while. Pam had me lay in certain positions to help encourage my body to finish. This time was incredibly peaceful, and the three of us got to take a well earned nap. 

At 3:00pm I was checked again. Fully dilated! Our girl was almost here. It was a wonderful feeling to realize I was going to be able to be fully mentally present when she was born. I remember Pam telling me that the pushing phase could take a long time. She told me not to be discouraged but it could be hours yet before our baby was born. I mentally prepared myself that it would take a while. 

At 3:40pm I began pushing. During the first push you could see our daughter's head. It was amazing I could feel it, feel the pressure and the burning as I pushed. The nurse told me to hold on as we needed to wait for the midwives before this baby came out. At 3:58pm, after two sets of pushes, our little girl was born. It was the most remarkable thing I have ever experienced. There she was, this little human who had been in my belly for nine months. I could actually see her, hold her in my arms and marvel at this little miracle God had allowed us to have. The love I felt for her and my husband in that moment was indescribable. After all that work, all that pain, she was here. We had done it.  Later I learned that Josh hadn’t left my side for more than the span of one contraction at a time. He had only done that a handful of times when Pam told him he needed to keep his strength up. He would only go to scarf down a snack and water, then he would be right back at my side. When we got home I saw the blisters on his feet, bruises on his knees. He was right there with me through all of it. I couldn’t have made it as far as I did without him fighting through it all with me. 

Things didn’t go exactly as planned. My labor was harder than I expected it to be. I wasn't able to do it all naturally and I did need an epidural. Looking back at it I regret nothing. I think the way things unfolded was perfect.I felt Mom’s strength with me, and I know she would have been so proud of the job I did. She also would have been incredibly proud of the man I married. Had she been there she would have been over the moon for her beautiful and perfect granddaughter. In my mind's eye I could see her smiling down at our little girl, green eyes twinkling. Josh’s parents did get to hold our precious girl the night she was born. So did my dad and his beautiful new wife. Seeing my daughter’s grandparents have her in their arms were some of the most perfect moments I have ever witnessed.

So, if I were giving a mother-to-be advice, it would simply be this. Prepare to be surprised, and shift with the changing tide. Whatever comes, God will give you the strength to meet it. If you need to change the plan, do it. Do what you need to, to make your birth right for you. There isn’t one way, and I can promise you things won't all go according to plan. But there is a beauty in that too. I promise, the miracle at the end of the twisting labyrinth of birth is so incredibly worth it.