MHN Birth Stories

Early labor was the worst part. For a couple of weeks, I was stuck between 1 and 4 centimeters. I think it was prodromal labor—I kept having contractions and would go to the doctor, but they were never consistent or strong enough to be considered active labor. It was just on and on and on.

At my 39-week appointment, I was finally at 4 cm. I’d been sitting between 1 and 3 cm the whole week before. After the appointment, I went home, took a shower, cooked, and ate. The contractions kept coming, but I didn’t rush. My number one thing was that I didn’t want to sit at the hospital for hours. I made sure everything was taken care of before we left.

We got to the hospital around midnight. Since I was GBS-positive, they started antibiotics. I was having contractions but sleeping through them—“It was nothing new for me. I’d been feeling this for weeks now.”

Labor seemed to stall a bit. I didn’t want to be induced, but I’d already been at 4 cm for so long. We agreed to break my water, and when that didn’t bring on stronger contractions, we started a little Pitocin just to move things along.

My doctor was new, and I wasn’t sure yet how he operated, but honestly, “Whatever you wanted was what he had to give—except he kept asking if I wanted the epidural.” I don’t think he was trying to pressure me. I think he was just worried I might wait too long and change my mind. “I was fine because it’s not my first rodeo, but he didn’t know me, so I get the concern.”

I didn’t want a lot of people in the room, no unnecessary cervical checks. The nurses were respectful and only came in when I called or if they needed to adjust the baby on the monitor.

Labor picked up around 9 a.m. “We did the peanut ball, I walked around, moved around a little bit.” They kept asking if I wanted the epidural, but I told them, “I’m positive, I’m okay.” Around 8 cm, I said, “I’m telling y’all, it’s gonna happen really fast now.”

The doctor checked me and said 8 cm. Then he must’ve gone to get food or something because he was gone a long time. Meanwhile, I was telling the nurse, “I’m feeling too much pressure,” and so much fluid was gushing out of me.

There were so many people in the room—grandparents, the baby’s dad, my doula—and I said, “I can’t stop whatever is coming out from coming out!” The dad pulled out his flashlight on his phone, and my doula was on FaceTime with the kids and siblings, holding the phone between my legs. I said, “He’s coming, and I can’t stop it.”

They lifted the gown and—sure enough—his head was already out. I had just told them he was coming not even five minutes earlier. Everyone had just left the room saying it would be “another hour or more,” but I knew. Then everyone started shouting, "THE BABY IS OUT!" and came running back in. I just said, “I told y’all! Y’all should’ve listened to me.”

The doctor didn’t show up for another 7–10 minutes. By then, the baby was skin-to-skin under my shirt. Everything was over. The doctor just came in and said it was time to deliver the placenta.

My mom was amazing through all of it—rubbing my hands and feet, even though she panicked and took a million pictures of the floor because she was so in shock. Dad was holding the flashlight even though the room was fully lit! Everybody was thinking clearly until the baby came out—and then everyone froze.

But once the nurses got in, they got to work. I was the only patient in labor at the hospital that night. I guess it was all new to them. The hospital is about to remodel and upgrade to a Level 2 OB center so they can take higher-risk clients. They even got a grant and are getting a birth tub.

My first nurse was great. That first hour wasn’t too painful. She helped walk me and the baby to the recovery room, and I got to take a shower—that went great. Then I got some ibuprofen because the cramps were bad.

The hospital and nurses were awesome, but once my mom is in the picture? That’s it. She’s the nurse now. “They wanted to help me shower and get to the bathroom, but once my mom is in the picture, that’s it. My mom is the nurse now.” So they gave her instructions, and she said, “I got it!”

Postpartum has been going so well. I’ve been getting in lots of cuddles. We had visitors for one day—everyone brought gifts—and now we’re not accepting visitors because of germs. “Everybody has germs now, and the germs are getting scarier.” So we do FaceTime and send pictures.

Every morning, I wake up to a million requests for “our newest dose of baby.” It’s been years since we’ve had a newborn in the family, so everyone’s excited. I went to the doctor the other day and almost forgot the diaper bag! I’m packing everything like diapers, wipes… I really need a checklist.

My oldest was like, “Mom, why did you do this?” because it used to be just me, her, and the 5-year-old. Now it’s a whole thing—remember the car seat, the blankets, the stroller, everything. We literally have to remind ourselves: don’t forget the baby.

One thing I noticed—“I think pain in some people’s heads makes them not speak right. They don’t say what they need or want to say, because they’re in so much pain they can’t fight.” At one point I said, “I can’t do this anymore, I’m done.” And my sister just looked at me and said, “It’s almost over.”

And it was.