Birth Story

It isn't often that one 24-hour duration, one turn of the Earth, changes our life and imprints every moment of itself in our memory, earning the title of "the best day." My wedding day earned this title two and a half years ago and now February 8th, 2014 will no doubt remain vivid in my mind forever.  It was the most physically challenging, emotionally exhausting and ultimately rewarding experience all at once.  It was the best day of my life.

Last Friday afternoon, I was in the middle of one of my due date "treat yourself" activities getting a relaxing massage and thinking about where I wanted to go to dinner with my husband.  But we never went.  At around 4pm I started feeling measurable contractions and we started timing them with excitement and anticipation, waiting until they were about 5 minutes apart so we could call the midwife and go to the hospital.  Earlier that morning I had gone in for a check-up and was told I was dilated 2cm.  I had a ways to go.  It could take hours or days.  

At around 8:30 the contractions were stronger and more frequent, less than 10 minutes apart.  I decided we could wait no longer! To the hospital! Drew put the bags in the car and off we went.  I hobbled up to registration and managed to spit out my name in between contractions.  Within minutes I was whisked off in a wheelchair to triage, where nurses started asking all sorts of questions and testing my vitals. I was relieved when my midwife arrived, but not relieved to hear what she said a few minutes later.  Three centimeters dilated.  Only three?! Four hours of contractions and I'd only progressed one lousy centimeter? That's what I meant to say. What I actually said was a little less eloquent with a little more profanity.  We went back home to continue early labor.

The contractions remained strong and frequent for hours.  I rotated from the warm shower to my birthing ball, Drew following each step of the way cheering me on and offering help however he could.  I was determined to stick it out until I was sure our next trip to the hospital would end with a baby.  Perhaps I waited just a bit too long. When the contractions felt like one unbearably painful contraction with no space in between, I told Drew to drive as fast as he could.  It was 3am.

When we arrived at the hospital I could barely open my eyes.  We checked into triage and my midwife entered the room.  "It looks like we're ready to have a baby," she said.  She filled up a laboring tub to ease the pain of active labor and I got into the warm water, Drew sitting beside it telling me I was doing a great job.  I'd just stepped in when I had another contraction and my midwife told me it was almost time to get out and push.  That part didn't take long at all.  Less than an hour and a half after I'd arrived, I was holding my baby.

Drew and I had planned on taking video during the whole process.  We were so prepared with cameras and printed birth plans, a music playlist for labor and even a cord blood donation kit for Be the Match, that we ended up forgetting in the car.  We took no video and my neatly printed "birth plan" turned into whatever noises I could utter between contractions.  But it didn't matter.  Staring down at two tiny brown eyes staring back, I couldn't believe that we did it.  We had a baby. 

And Brayden James Bautista is perfect.