If every woman could be warned that her labor was imminent, I’m sure she would spend her day with her feet up, eating popcorn, and napping at her leisure.
And yet, ironically, that is exactly how my day of labor began.
My water broke at 4 AM. I tried to tell myself to go back to sleep, that I would need the energy for later. It was impossible. I lay there half in denial, half in frantic dialogue with God, “Really? Today?! We’re having a baby?...” I lolled Andrew out of slumber and tried to deliver the news in the calmest manner I could, but no tone of voice could deliver such news that would not result in excited action. Andrew got busy gathering bath towels to set on the wet sheets so I could try to get back to sleep. Yes, we were actually under the delusion we would actually return to relaxed and ignorant slumber. Three more minutes turned into an eternity and anticipation shot through our veins to get us both moving about with preparations.
My preparation began with a warm shower and calm prayers. Next on my priority list was breakfast, of course. (Who begins a big day without a good breakfast?) In between contractions (which had quickened to about every 6 minutes), I scrambled eggs and made a french press of coffee. Leaning over the breakfast bar in our kitchen with the pain of contractions, I signaled to Andrew when contractions began and ended as he called our midwife.
On the way to the hospital, we were mostly quiet. Filled with wonder, nerves, and anticipation, we barely remembered to cover last-minute details about baby’s birth (like what we were naming him, who we wanted to call and when, what we were going to do about visitors) ... one of us looked down at the radio and realized it was 10/10/10. We smiled at each other, feeling God already had poured his favor on this baby’s birth.
Andrew dropped me off in the front of The Birthing Inn because all the spaces were full. I saw a figure (she looked like a nurse) walking towards the doors. Andrew told me, “Grab that nurse...” and as I wobbled nearer, I realized it was Shannon Wise, the parent of one of my students 2 years ago. I had seen her several times at the midwives’ office, where she also works part-time. What a relief to have access to an L&D nurse who I knew was supportive of a natural birth.
The nurse and midwife found that my blood pressure was high (a phenomenon that had been a recurring problem for the past 2 weeks - probably a combination of stress from work and lack of rest). I was told I wasn’t allowed to labor anywhere but the bed until it was stabilized. I was desperate to get into the birthing tub, so I made that my motivation...and after 45 minutes of deep inhalations and conscious relaxation, I hit the numbers that allowed me out of bed.
In the tub, I went from 5 cm to 9.5 cm in an hour and a half. I had little break between contractions (which is what I believe sent my blood pressure rocketing when I came in) and Andrew coached me like a champ with soothing words, music, and a cool washcloth. Andrew joked and kept me in a light mood, telling me I was on my way to a 10:10 AM birth and that it would be great if we could be done in time to watch the Redskins game at 1PM.
I couldn’t laugh, but I smiled on the inside.
When it came time to push, I was told I needed to get out of the tub (though I was very happy to stay put. Moving at this point was terribly uncomfortable and took a long time as I could only take a few steps before another contraction hit).
My midwife, nurse, and hubby were angels to me to the finish line. Though the last part of labor was quick for me, there were definitely several times that I thought, “I can’t do this. I need a break. I’m too tired.” Just when I thought I really could not push anymore, my midwife looked me in the eyes and said, “Becca, look at me. THIS is your birth push. One more and you get to meet your baby.” It was just the reminder I needed. Moments later, a wet and crying baby was placed on my chest.
Exhaustion, awe, disbelief, and relief welled inside me, stifling the tears I thought I would cry. I just stared.
“Hi baby” were the only words I could get out.
“Baby” became “Carter” a few more moments later. He was 7 lbs. 4.7 oz. with an APGAR score of 9/9.
Ten perfect little fingers, ten perfect little toes born ten minutes to ten o’clock on 10/10/10.
