This is my first pregnancy that has made it to term. At 39 weeks, it was time for him to come out. I tried everything: eating pineapple cores, eating 6 dates a day, eating eggplant parmesan, drinking red raspberry tea, stimulating my nipples, walking, bouncing on my yoga ball. I’m convinced that what did the trick at 39+3 was watching Marley and Me the day I went into labor and crying my eyes out.

My contractions started around 10:00 PM on June 2. I knew they were the real deal pretty quickly. My husband drove my stepson to his mom’s house, and I called my doula and tried to get some sleep. At 3, AM, my water broke. Time to head to the hospital.

A nurse wheeled me to triage. As a sexual abuse survivor, one of my most important birth plan features was to decline all cervical checks except for the triage check. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get through even that one. They gave me a quick ultrasound instead and admitted me to labor and delivery. They also gave me the sad news that they had misinformed me at my 36 week appointment, and that my doula could not come in the hospital after all.

When I got to the room, I was pretty uncomfortable. I did a covid test up my nose 🙄They tried to put in my IV 3 times (group b positive), but couldn’t find a vein. Blood was dripping everywhere, and the contractions felt like they were moving really fast.

My goal was to have a medication free delivery. I was trying hard to cope. I labored on the yoga ball, and leaning over the bed.

It felt as though things were getting pretty intense. The nurse explained that my contractions were progressing very quickly for a first time mom. I called my doula crying. She suggested getting in the tub, but I couldn’t convince myself to move.

I finally requested an epidural. The anesthesiologist came. I was in transition. The pain was unbearable. They had to put the epidural in between contractions that were very close together, and I had to stay completely still. They missed 3 times in a row. It took about 30 minutes. I was screaming at the top of my lungs, crying hysterically and begging them to help me.

At this point, I was no longer allowed to get out of bed or move around. They put in the epidural and left. Contractions were still coming at the same intensity. I continued to scream. My nurse was trying to coach me through the contractions, but I was too far gone to cope.

Side note: apparently at this point, I tested positive for pre-eclampsia. 🤷🏼‍♀️

My midwife let me know that we had two options: waiting for the epidural to work or replacing it. She believed the decision would be best informed by a cervical check. I agreed, but couldn’t make it through. I was panicking, sobbing hysterically and begging her to stop. She attempted again and let me know I was at 7 cm.

We decided to replace the epidural, though the anesthesiologist believed it would work if I gave it time. What followed was the worst experience of my life. As they tried to replace the epidural, I had to stay still while dilating to 9 cm. My nurse, midwife, and husband held me down. I was in agony. I screamed silently to try to stay still.

They lost my son’s heart rate on the fetal monitor at this point. They let me know the only alternative was to try to put a monitor in vaginally. So, as I contracted, they tried to both insert a vaginal monitor and an epidural. I was basically having an out of body experience from the level of panic i was experiencing. I begged them to stop and declined the internal fetal monitoring. They made me repeat it twice.

Finally, the epidural was in and provided complete relief immediately. It was a miracle. I laid down.

My son’s heart rate re-appeared on the monitor and then dropped to 60 when I laid down. The emergency team rushed in to prep me for a c section. They rolled me on my side and, like magic, his heart rate returned to normal.

2 hours later, it was time to push. I was feeling so much better. I put on my pushing playlist (lots of Lizzo) and pushed for 4 hours because the epidural had slowed my contractions.

Toward the end of 4 hours, I asked for some Tums. I took them and proceeded to vomit like the exorcist all over the place. 😳

They cleaned me up, gave me a mirror, and it was time for my son to come. The room filled with nurses who had been there throughout the day’s trauma, who wanted to see the happy ending. My nurse even stayed after her shift was over.

I pushed his head out and ran out of steam. Worried his shoulder was stuck, they hit the emergency button and the whole team came in again. I summoned my last bit of strength, gave one last push, and his whole body was out at 7:33 PM. They put him on my chest and I burst into tears while everyone cheered.

Everett Miles is 7 pounds 12 ounces, and 21.5 inches. He is the love of my life. ❤️❤️❤️