I wasn’t afraid of labour. Maybe I should have been – of course people loved to share horror stories. But I just wasn’t. I wasn’t nervous for it. I was nervous for motherhood for sure, but labour? I was anticipating it. Looking forward to the experience. Of welcoming the life I’d been growing for the last 9 months into the world in a moment of strength and endurance. I read articles, watched videos, and made notes on hypno-birthing. I had a playlist of some of my favourite, relaxing, or special songs ready on a Birth Playlist I’d been adding to for weeks, including many of the songs I would sing to her while she floated happily inside of me. I spent some time creating birth affirmations in appealing fonts on calming backgrounds of plants and night skies and printed them off to have around me when I needed a boost of confidence. I was completely ready.
My due date came and my due date went. Once I was over, I opted to have a stretch and sweep from my midwives to help move the process along and avoid medical induction – something I very much didn’t want. At the first attempt, it was completely impossible. My cervix was still long, firm, and back and nothing could be done. I tried not to be discouraged. I was just barely over my due date, I wasn’t uncomfortable being pregnant – in fact I had maintained my daily hour long high intensity workouts and two long dog walks a day throughout without issue. My only concern was the looming induction, but at this point it was still quite a ways away and I was confident I wouldn’t reach it. The dog walks now had added curb walking in an effort to help move things along. Most of my dinners included baked buffalo cauliflower to add some extra spice to my diet. My friend made me her super spicy chilli that another friend had eaten the night before she went into labour. I spent my time in the house editing client shoots while bouncing on a yoga ball. In addition to the 7km of dog walks, I was adding in daily walks along the shore of the west beach in both directions. I spent the walks trying to relax, collecting sea glass and talking to Fern. Telling her all the things she would get to experience once she was out in the real world. The things we would do together. Telling her that it was ok – whenever she was ready, I was ready. We were both ready, her father and I, to greet her. I talked about the lake, the trees, the warmth of the sunshine. Being woken up by the sounds of birds chirping. Playing in tall grass and making angels in the snow. I tried my best to not stress about the possibility of induction, as my midwives had advised. They said there is a reason so many people go into labour in the middle of the night – because they were relaxed. I went to bed each night hoping I’d be woken up by labour pains. Each night I wasn’t.
On a trip into my favourite local coffee shop some wonderful and lovely moms gave me the advice of trying acupuncture and recommended a wonderful man in Cobourg. I did this multiple times over the next week. Each time I’d be hopeful – I’d have some cramping, and then nothing. When I went in for the next midwife check after a couple of acupuncture sessions I thought – I’m sure at least I’ve progressed enough for a stretch and sweep. I still hadn’t. My cervix was still closed, firm, and back. The next attempt was in my home. It would reveal I was 1 cm dilated, enough to do a bit of a sweep but not enough for a stretch. We talked about induction at this point. I needed to book in a date. I wanted it to be with Dr Green as he was the only would who would allow a first time mom to start induction with a pill – a much gentler start – before moving on to pitocin. I was scheduled for a Monday induction the following week. I would be 8 days overdue. After a long discussion with Jordan following the midwives visit, I decided I didn’t want the induction to be that soon. I would be just barely over a week overdue and I had been told most first time moms go 7-10 days over. There were pros and cons to waiting. I could wait until the Friday, the last possible date they would let me go and Dr. Green also happened to be working again that date. The con to this was that my midwife started her month off call the day before this. There was another wonderful midwife would who be with me, but not the one I had been seeing the most frequently who really wanted to be there for the birth. I decided I needed to trust my instincts and my body and not let her disappointment influence what I wanted to do, as much as I had wanted her to be there as well. Fern had assed her non stress test quickly and with flying colours and the latest ultrasound showed my placenta was also completely fine. There was no reason to rush. I called her and told her I wanted to rebook for Friday. She was completely understanding and said that she would feel the same way in my situation. She also said she would come attempt another sweep on Tuesday. Again, my dilation had not progressed at all and while she was able to do another small sweep and felt some membranes break, a stretch was still not possible. We assured each other that it wouldn’t matter – I would go into labour naturally before Thursday and all would be well. We tried to will it into existence.
And I guess, in a way, we did.
Wednesday morning I started my day as usual. Got up, got dressed, threw n some makeup and got ready to take Sullivan on a sunny morning walk. I was just about to leave and popped into the bathroom to pee before the long walk, because pregnancy bladder. When I finished, stood up and got dressed, I felt a bit of leakage. I’d lost some of my mucus plug previously and assumed it was just a bit more of that brought on by the sweep. I cleaned up, stood up, anti happened again. Repeat this three or four more times and I was nervous. I texted Jordan and said I thought maybe my water was breaking, but probably nothing. I paged the midwives and waited for the midwife to call me back. When she did, she told me it probably was my water breaking, and to walk upstairs naked. If water was leaking down my leg by the time I was back downstairs, it was my water. She asked why I sounded upset. Because I had tested positive for group b strep (even though it was now 3-4 weeks ago and I probably wasn’t even positive anymore) I knew if my water broke before I was in active labour I would need to be induced because the water barrier to protect the baby from possible infection was gone. I was trying to avoid induction and now it was inevitable. She reassured me, told me it would be ok, and to call her back after I did my trip through the house. I did. My water had definitely broken. I contacted Jordan yo tell him and he was already on his way home from work after my first message telling him it was likely nothing. He obviously knew that was not the case. And thankfully I had reached him just before him and his boss had been about to drive out to an install.
I called my midwife back and told her. She was excited to be able to help greet our baby. She told me not to rush. Wait for Jordan. Get breakfast then she’d meet us at the hospital. I had texted my mom and told her but also assured her it would be a long day ahead still and not to rush. Of course, she showed up at my door minutes later. Jordan arrived shortly after. I remember apologizing to Sully that I couldn’t take him on a walk. Jordan reassured me and tried to help me relax. We got my go bag and loaded up in the car, mom following us in her vehicle. In a hurry, we went through a Tim Horton’s drive thru for a quick breakfast that we ate on route to Cobourg. I was such a mix of emotions walking into the hospital. I remember feeling like a comedy of errors – of course I was one of the rarities who tested positive to group B, then again one of the rarities who’s water breaks before labour. It didn’t feel fair – I’d stayed so healthy and active and tried so hard for natural labour.
We made our way up to the maternity ward and found my midwife at the desk. She gave me a big hug with a huge smile on her face. She told me there was good and bad news – “there’s no room at the inn”. I was confused. They didn’t have a room for me yet. I asked how that was good news. She told me she advised the staff to take extra time getting it ready and told me I could go for a walk for 45 minutes or so, maybe an hour and come back. She was trying her best to buy me more time for my labour to progress naturally before induction began, which I truly appreciated. The three of us decided to take our mind off of things by walking over to Winners across the road and wandering around inside for awhile. We took our time, got some things for Fern including some pretty grey macrame curtains and a soft mustard coloured blanket. We walked back to the hospital when we were done, leaving the items in moms car to take home some we would be staying overnight.
Back at the hospital we picked up some snacks in the cafeteria and went to my newly ready room. The midwife told me it was her favourite room in the ward. She brought me the best peanut ball. I was hooked up to a monitor. She advised me she had more good news – for the first time in her years at the hospital, Dr Hameed who was the ob on that day, was allowing them to start my induction with a pill instead of pitocin for a gentler start. I would start with one dose, wait a few hours and be checked again before getting a second dose, and potentially a third before piton started. I was so relieved, I was also so glad to have the care of midwives who were fighting for me.
I wore my robe and comfy sleep shorts. At one point we were able to go for a walk around the hospital. It was a beautiful day. I had let me dad know what was going on and to my surprise he showed up at the hospital as well despite me letting him know they anticipated it would be many hours before things progressed and that I would let him know when it was closer. Him and my mom sat and chatted and got along. It was nice to see.
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The waiting game began. I had some contractions but they were mild. A few hours later I would be given another dose of the pill. I hung out on the yoga ball and ate some snack, all while hooked up to the monitor. Eventually I chilled back in the bed. The nurse came in and gave me another dose of the pill. I remember thinking it didn’t seem like it had been that long, but didn’t voice it out loud. A short while later that nurse came back into the room, sobbing and red faced and supported by another nurse with an arm around her shoulder. They said they needed to speak to me and asked my parents to leave the room. I was terrified. Was something wrong with Fern?? The nurse tearful and through profuse apologies told me that, due to how busy they were, she had accidentally given me the second dose of the pill too soon. This could cause dangerous contention that lasted too long and put too much pressure on the baby. They needed to keep a very close eye on my monitor. I told her it was okay, I comforted her despite the fact that I was internally terrified. Dr Hameed came in. I had another check. My cervix hadn’t progressed. I was having mild but painful contractions. Jordan stayed by my side, reassuring me and reminding me of my breathing through my fear. Dr Hameed checked my monitor. She pointed out to the still distressed nurse that it seemed some of my contractions were quite long. They gave me a spray under my tongue to slow down my uterine contractions. I was so scared. She left and said she would be back to check again. Upon her return she said Fern’s heart rate was dipping lower with these contractions than they were comfortable with, and that if she couldn’t handle these then as they got worse they were worried about her well being. They talked about the possibility of needing an emergency c section and that they would be having the OR team on the ready. I cried. A lot. Things were going south so fast. My midwife wasn’t there. I didn’t want this. They told me she was on her way but I needed to decide. They said if I waited it would most likely end in a c section anyway and that if things had gotten much worse I may have to be put out for it and wouldn’t even be awake to see Fern enter the world. I was overwhelmed. Shocked. So scared and so sad. I kept asking about my midwife and saying I wouldn’t make any decisions before talking to her. Jordan comforted me the best he could. Told me it would be okay. She’d be here soon no matter how she arrived. That whatever I decided, he was with me.
The midwife arrived. She looked over my monitor readings. She gave me her honest opinion. It wasn’t terrible yet but it wasn’t good by any means. If the dr advised a c section, she would agree with her. I was crushed. I felt like a failure. I didn’t even get to try to birth her the way I wanted. I was a mess. My mom came in with my brother on the phone. Originally I turned it away as I was in tears and embarrassed but immediately thought better of it and am glad I did. I spoke to him, he reassured me. Told me it would be okay. Apologized that things had gone this way. I’m so glad I had the chance to speak to him in that moment. Forms were brought in. I signed them through tears. I called my birth photographer. I could hear through her voice that she was upset for me too. She asked if she should come immediately. I told her she wasn’t allowed in the OR but I would love pictures as soon as I was out and told her about how long surgery would be. She said she’d be waiting for us. I texted my best friend. I told her what was happening. She assured me she would be leaving from her new home in Bowmanville immediately. I knew she wouldn’t make it in time for this sudden surgery but would be there when I was out. I was quickly brought into the OR. The midwife had gotten them to allow Jordan to be there for the spinal. I remember shaking. Crying. Jordan sat directly in front of me. Told me to keep looking at him. Breathed with me. Was my constant.
Things moved quickly. The spinal was administered. My midwife has taped some of my birth affirmations to the sheet that was held up in front of us to block the surgery from our view. That meant a lot. I later found out Jordan had requested this of her. I was so lucky to have his strength and calm by my side. The sensations were hard. I felt no pain but could feel the sensations of what was happening. I remembered hearing the dr say “this baby never would have come through this pelvis”. I don’t know that I believe that. But suddenly, we heard her cries. They let Jordan snap pictures of her as we both reached up and pulled the sheet lower to see her. Bunches face. Arms crossed over her head. She was beautiful. She was perfect. My midwife got them to skip the warmer and I had immediate skin to skin with her. They lowered her onto my chest. Removed my oxygen mask. Our faces pressed together. She quieted. I closed my eyes. I breathed her in. She was here. She was amazing. My baby. Our baby. I greeted her. Welcomed her. Drank her in through tears now of both joy and lingering sadness. We sat together for a couple of minutes. The midwife asked Jordan if he would like to cut the cord. I reminded them I wanted delayed cord clamping but was informed that wasn’t allowed in the er. It felt like another blow. But they allowed me to keep holding her and Jordan got to cut the cord while she laid on me. It was wonderful. Eventually Jordan held her while they finished closing up my body. She christened him with her first meconium poo all over his scrubs. She was given back to me in the OR and my midwife, again fighting for me, got them to let me have her on me during transfer back to my room. We were wheeled out and I remembered hearing the voice of my photographer congratulating, reassuring me, and raving about Ferns beauty.
The nurses came in. Asked if we wanted some privacy before family came in. We asked for an hour to settle and be with her alone before they joined us. Sara captures beautiful images of us during this time – our first moments as a family of three. We asked our family to go have a bite to eat and come back. Because my mom had left her purse in our room she had to sneak in to get it. She was there while Fern was weighed and measured. She hugged me. Reassured me. Conveyed her love for fern and I. How strong I was. How proud she was. Was so happy to meet her grand daughter. She quickly left to respect our wish for a bit of privacy. Sara snapped away, offering us words of support. The nurse came and helped Fern latch for the first time. My legs were numb but my heart was so full as this being id grown was held close to my chest and knew how I could continue to nourish her and help her grow even though we were now two instead of one. Sara offered some breastfeeding tips, some support. She was wonderful. I am so glad to have these moments captured forever. Moments of pain but also of joy.
Time flew by for us. Family came and met her. Offered me hugs. Words of strength. Tears from both my mom and dad from seeing me going through such a rollercoaster of emotions. Everyone marvelled at her. She was perfect. Jordan had skin to skin time with her – wrapped in a blanket wed bought from home together in the chair. My best friend had a moment alone with me. She sat at my bedside. She held me close as I held fern closer. We cried together. She told me how much she loved me. How she’d be there for me through this recovery. I admitted my fear as I had a wedding to shoot in ten days and had just had major surgery. She immediate said she’d be with me to carry all my gear. Refused to take no for an answer. Refused to let me pay her for her help. Told me she’d be there through every step of my recovery. And boy, has she been. Without the support of her, Jordan, my mom and a couple other dear friends, that first little while would have been a whole lot darker and a whole lot harder to climb out of.
Eventually everyone went home and it was just us and this new being we had a lifetime to get to know – our first night together as this new family.
Fern Agatha Beth was born a healthy 6lb 15.2 oz at 7:51 pm on July 24th 2019, just shy of 12 hours after my water broke that morning, and 10 days past her due date.
The next day, my midwife checked in early in the morning despite it being her first days of holidays. Later, my second midwife would arrive. She knew how hard this had been for me too. She reassured me with the story if her own cesarean and how her recovery had gone. Told me that with my shape and health, I’d be back on my feet in no time if I took it easy the first week. I felt reassured. Stronger again. Less fearful of how my body would heal. That conversation was a huge stepping stone for me and I’m so grateful for it. I felt so much less defeated.
It’s taken me a long time to write out this day. I felt like I had failed. I felt so disappointed in my body – I hadn’t even gotten to try a natural labour. Things had gone to what I considered to be the worst-case scenario. And so quickly. I remember the second night in the hospital, hearing another woman crying out through labouring in another room and being jealous. But as time has passed I’ve had time to heal. Time to realize that it doesn’t matter how she arrived. My body grew her. My body IS strong. It is still hard, if I’m being honest. I still feel like I missed out on some pivotal experience. But my joy when I wake up and get to see her beautiful face heals that a little more each day.
