I debated on whether I would even write this post for a while. It’s a personal story, and for some it might be too much information. If a real and raw birth story isn’t your jam, I won’t be offended if you skip this post.

Because honestly, I wrote it for a very select audience. That audience includes myself, as I wanted to document the story in my own words while it was still fresh. Sure, I could have done that privately, but this is my outlet. When I first brought it up to Elliot as my sounding board and asked if it would be okay with him if I shared it, he asked me why I wanted to. In that moment, I realized I wasn’t the only person I was sharing it for. I wanted to share it for other first time moms. New moms who might be faced with an unexpected birth. Moms who have a specific birth plan that doesn’t go to plan. Moms who don’t have a plan at all. Moms who don’t know what to expect, as I didn’t. I want to share my story because it was hard and scary and it happens, and I want to help and support other moms who might go through the same thing I did.

I’ll start at the very beginning. On December 5th, 2022, I joked with coworkers about how I had a few weeks left to go, but the baby could come as soon as I had completed my gift-wrapping. At my previous doctors appointment the week before, I was 2 cm dilated, but felt fine and they said I could be 2 cm dilated for weeks. I had a little time left to get ready. My hospital bag was mostly packed and I had a few things to wrap up for work, but like I said, I had time. I had just hit the point where I was tired of being pregnant, but I still felt okay and I even worked out that day.

At 5:50 AM the very next day, my water broke - ten minutes before my alarm went off. It woke me up. As it was pretty early in the morning, I spent the next few hours packing up, completing a few tasks for work and calling my boss to let her know that “I’m sorry I can’t do that presentation for tomorrow but I’m pretty sure I’m having a baby today.”

We hopped in the car around 9, and called our parents to let them know. It occurred to us that we had planned on taking a birthing class the following weekend and were completely unprepared. In the waiting room at the hospital, Elliot Googled some breathing techniques and we were admitted to a delivery room armed with exactly 3 ways to breathe.

I labored for a bit and they started the pitocin. A few hours in, I asked how long it would take to receive an epidural, should I want one, and I was told it would be about 30-40 minutes. When I finally did ask for one, it did an excellent job of numbing my left leg, which would have been very helpful if I was getting some kind of knee procedure. As it was, I was having a baby and still felt every contraction. They kept saying it would kick in soon enough. After about 45 minutes of little to no relief, I looked at Elliot and said,

“This isn’t working.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Fix it.”

My husband immediately left the room and came back five minutes later with the anesthesiologist and another bolus. This one worked. Praise Jesus.

Two and a half hours later, they told me it was almost time to start pushing. I was fully dilated and just needed little man to descend a little bit further. Around 6pm, I started pushing. As the baby descended into the birth canal, his head turned sideways and got stuck behind my pubic bone. The nurses were absolute rock stars and tried every trick in the book to try to get his head turned the right way. I must have tried 10 different positions to try to get him unstuck. It made for very slow progress.

After 16 hours of labor and 3 1/2 hours of pushing, Will was born at 9:20 pm. He was born stunned - not moving, not breathing. Within seconds, the nurses had called the code and the NICU team arrived and resuscitated him. Everything happened so fast and I don’t know if I’ve ever been so grateful to be right where I was. After they had him on CPAP and run some initial tests, they brought him over for us to hold for a few minutes before taking him up to the NICU. The neonatologist explained to me that Will had likely suffered a hypoxic event and they weren’t sure what his neurological status was, but they would be cooling him for 72 hours to allow his brain to heal without exacerbating the injury, as well as running an EEG to monitor his brain over the 3 days.

Will went to the NICU and started his treatment, and we got settled in my recovery room and finally got to sleep a little bit. As a result of one little sideways head, I had second and third degree tears and had to be wheeled down to the NICU to see Will. The next two days were a blur, between visitors, resting, learning to pump, and going down to the NICU to speak with the medical team and participate in his cares.

When I was discharged and finally made it home, I felt two things. 1. I was very relieved and somewhat relaxed to finally be in my own house, my own couch and my own bed and not in a hospital. It felt like I could actually be comfortable and get some rest. 2. I felt so sad that I was finally home but I didn’t have my baby. I knew I couldn’t just stay on my couch and recover. For the next week and a half, I returned to the hospital almost every day. It was exhausting and painful to get ready every day and walk into the hospital. I knew I needed to take that time to rest and recover, but I just couldn’t. I had a baby in the NICU that needed to learn how to eat and I had to be there to provide milk and learn how to help him.

The hardest thing for me was being robbed of those first days with my baby. As a mom, you’re kind of supposed to be the only thing your baby needs when he’s just born. Will wasn’t eating, so I was just pumping and freezing everything. I was allowed to change his diaper, take his temperature and swab some water around his lips. That was it. While he was cooling, Will couldn’t be held, and he had to be naked. I could hold his little hand, but I had to be very careful with all of his lines and make sure he didn’t pull anything out.

My baby was cold, hungry and miserable, and there was absolutely nothing I could do to help except wait. I had a whole hospital bag full of cute outfits, accessories, books, everything he could possibly need and it sat mostly untouched.

Except socks.

They allowed him to wear socks and mittens, and I made sure he had multiple pairs of clean socks and mittens every day I visited. It was the only thing I could offer him, so I made it my life’s goal to bring cute Christmas socks and take home the dirty ones. It seems silly and borderline pointless, but at the time, it was all I could do for my baby.

When he was finally done cooling, it took him almost a week to learn how to eat and grow enough to come home. It was a long and frustrating week of anxiously hoping he would instantly start feeding. Which of course, he didn’t. He took his time, but by the time he came home, he was almost a normal baby, eating well from a bottle, and just starting to learn to nurse.

Throughout the whole ordeal, I was a walking jumble of emotions. At any given time, I was a mixture of exhaustion, anger, irritation, helplessness, fear, sadness, and I was in pain. I definitely had my days, and I remember one day the fellow came in to update me with very little information (and I was due for pain meds at the time - NOT a good combo) and I literally stomped around the room for twenty minutes after she left. It was scary and frustrating, but I’m glad I had some background knowledge of neonatal care that helped me to understand what was happening and why.

For the following weeks after Will was discharged, I fielded the question,

“What was wrong with the pregnancy?”

Nothing. Nothing was wrong. Will was perfectly healthy, and was in position for weeks before delivery. I was in great shape, having exercised regularly up until the day before delivery. Nothing was abnormal or wrong, except the position of Will’s head when he entered the birth canal. All of a sudden, we had a traumatic birth and a 10-day NICU stay.

It’s absolutely wild to me how quickly and easily things can go wrong in a delivery room. I didn’t have a detailed birth plan or anything, but this was NOT it. Nothing could have prepared me for it.

I am grateful for the excellent care we received from the nurses and doctors, and the precautions taken to ensure the best outcome for my little peanut. God absolutely had us in His hands the entire time.

Will ended up suffering two minor hypoxic events, as well as a tiny brain bleed. His EEG came back clear and his neurologist is very impressed with his development so far. We have no concerns for his development at this time, but are being followed anyway to ensure that Will meets his milestones.

Will is now 3 months old, weighing in at about 10.5 lbs, and eats as much as he can get away with. He loves music, will babble away at anyone who will listen to him and absolutely hates tummy time. He is truly a gift.

So there you have it - the story of how Will entered the world. It was one of the hardest experiences of my life, and I don’t wish it on anyone. I know I am one of the lucky ones to bring home a healthy baby after such a short stay, and my heart goes out to the moms who live in a NICU for months and may take home a medically complex baby. It’s hard and scary, but it is a reality for a lot of parents. It could have easily been me.

It could have been me, and yet it wasn’t. After all of that, I was blessed to bring home a beautiful baby boy, spend our first Christmas at home as a family of 3, and every morning I get to wake up and say good morning to this precious baby. Our beginning was rough, but I would do it again in a heartbeat for this little guy.

"For this child I prayed and the Lord has granted the desires of my heart." 1 Samuel 1:27