Dawson’s birth story 💫

Early labor started, well, early. My body began prepping in the early hours of Wednesday morning around 2am when contractions woke me up and were close enough to keep me up in anticipation.

Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday consisted of contractions coming on consistently and then letting up, going to what would be my final OB appointment, running around, grocery store x3, park with Luke(my 3y/o), haircut for Luke, play date, prepping freezer meals, very little sleep, cleaning, gentle yoga, and getting things in order.

Friday morning on my way to the check out line I felt a gush of fluid and had a feeling it might have been my water breaking as it had with Luke (a slow leak), so I let my on-call people know that unless labor picked up I would go in when everyone got off work to make sure.

Feeling like it was a false alarm combined with the fact that if it were my water my contractions hadn’t picked up yet anyway, I had my sister take me and parents hang back with Luke. I packed my bag (procrastination...) and We loaded up her car and headed to the hospital around 630pm.

It took a couple hours to confirm it was not in fact my water, just Dawson descending, putting pressure, and I was 3.5cm dilated. Contractions were still 10-15 minutes apart so they told me to go labor at home and come back when things had gotten further along.

As we left the hospital around 9pm, I decided I would try to rest for the night and encourage labor in the morning. Well, my body had other ideas and contractions picked up shortly after. They gradually became longer, stronger, and more frequent. Once we had gotten home and all was settled, I was antsy and kept moving from room to room unsure of what to do.

I was frustrated to be laboring alone and unsure whether to get my music and diffuser going while at home even though I’d have to pack them up shortly after. I ran a bath to see if that may ease things and turned on worship music quietly. With each surge I got on my hands and knees to let my belly hang as the contraction peaked in intensity.

After about 45 minutes I got out and decided it was probably time to wake my support people up soon, but I kept doubting myself that this was even it. I find it funny that in the midst of labor I doubted my body’s ability to actually go into labor on its own since I had to be induced with Luke after my water broke and body didn’t ever kick in.

I walked around a bit, leaning over onto something to let my belly hang each time a contraction came on. Timing contractions to be sure they were close enough together to feel like it was warranted to get everyone up in the middle of the night. I was worried about getting there in time since my active labor with Luke was so short, but also didn’t want to be there annoyingly long or to be sent home again.

Around 130am I woke up my mom to tell her it was time to head in. She woke my dad and we loaded her car to go to the hospital and my car to take Luke to my dear friend, Elayna, who offered to love on him while I gave birth to Dawson.

I was quite spoiled in Luke’s labor to not have to deal with the drive to the hospital while contracting. Lessons learned: back roads are NOT your friend and you don’t give a rip where you park.

We arrived around 230am and shortly after, to the nurse’s and doctor’s surprise who seemed annoyed I was there for the second time that night, I was 6cm dilated and would be admitted.

The doctor asked about my birth plan, which I don’t remember them doing with Luke, I responded no drugs unless needed, immediate skin to skin for 2 hours, I also jokingly said and no needles as they were putting my IV in. They blew two veins, one in each arm, trying to get an IV started. The nurse admitting me was very intuitive and recognized that the only way to know I was contracting was by how my breath changed and deepened.

We moved to a labor suite and set up my diffuser with oils, my speaker, and dimmed the lights.

I labored quietly, internally trying to manage the pain with each contraction with breath and encouragement from the music. I got slightly frustrated with the task at hand and everyone on their phones, even though there was nothing they could really do to help and they had certainly offered to help, I just wanted my birth partner, Tayler, who wasn’t able to make it back from Kentucky in time.

I continued to breathe deeply, taking in the aroma of essential oils and reminding myself we both needed the oxygen and remaining calm allowed for my body to open up as needed versus tightening in nervousness.

I focused on the calming worship music in the background and how present God has been throughout the entire process and how present he was in that moment as well. With each surge. Jesus. Presence. Surrender. Love. Transformation. Growth. Opening up.

When things got a little more intense, I finally spoke up and my sister helped massage my shoulders and roll a tennis ball on my back as well as apply counter pressure during contractions which was incredibly helpful.

Around 6am they checked me again and said I was 8cm dilated. Shortly after, around 620am, they came to break my water and the doctor that came in said she would actually consider me 6cm dilated which was really discouraging, but I was hopeful things would pick up with my water being broken.

Shortly after, my contractions began double peaking, then triple peaking, then essentially being non-stop.

There were 8 minutes between the first time I said I felt the need to push and the moment I held Dawson in my arms.

My sister pushed the call button as I was in the throes of managing non-stop contractions and my hands up on my head opening my diaphragm trying to continue breathing deeply. She decided to go out and get the nurse instead. The nurse came in and proceeded to prep to check me once again and make sure it was safe to push. I somehow managed to ask her to wait until the current contraction passed with a smile on my face. She decided that I was 9&3/4cm dilated (I guess if looks could kill the odds wouldn’t have been great for her that morning...)

At this point I had managed to get out that I can’t help it, pushing, as I tried to keep my body from pushing through the next few contractions. Holding back made the pain unbearable to embrace quietly any longer, I was having a hard time getting a full breath in and it was downright tough. They continued to prep the room for delivery, but slowly.

The nurse checked me again and asked me to give a light push and realized that it was actually time. Her voice activated call button would not work for obvious reasons as at this point I’m fighting my body from doing what it’s supposed to do.

There were 6 minutes between these first two pictures. Bed not broken down. Stirrups not up. Nothing fully prepped. Nurses not taking seriously the words I could barely get out between essentially non-stop contractions.

I had labored so quietly up to that point, and been told I was only 6cm dilated just 45ish minutes before and I’m sure it was easy to doubt that my body might be ready to push. I consciously held my body from pushing for three or so contractions as the nurse finally rushed out trying to get the doctor.

The doctor came in and the nurse nonchalantly pulled up the stirrups while the doctor rushed to get her gloves on. They finally said I can push as I groaned again barely getting out “I have, I have to”. The nurse tried to pick up a leg and I screamed “ahhh, NO!” And I think that surprised her, but seriously WHO picks up ONE leg in the midst of contracting/pushing.

Anyhow, I was slightly terrified at how fast he was coming, but there was literally no slowing the process. The doctor yanked her gloves on, slipped a pad under me, and freed her hands just as he came out. He was out within 30 seconds and maybe two pushes, but not even conscious attempts at pushing, I never beared down to push like I had with Luke for hours, my body was just pushing on its own at that point and I honestly was trying to move away from it feeling like he was coming too quickly.

It all happened so quick there was no time to really process and it was incredibly emotional to be holding him almost immediately. I remember saying “holy, oh my God, hi honey” to Dawson along with a “oh I know that was rough,” frantically saying “don’t clamp the cord until it stops pulsing, I forgot to say that about the birth plan,” and a lot of shakey breaths trying to process.

Staring at his face, hearing his cry, holding his warm little body in my arms, and the fact that I had done it, all on my own, no meds no pitocin no nothing, being able to open my eyes and be present, it was all so much to take in.

It was truly humbling to have such a rapid and hard labor, to surrender to my desire to not vocalize how intense the pain was, and it was certainly so beautiful in its own way.

Welcome to the world, sweet Dawson. ♥️