Ellery's Birth Story.

This one has been in the works for the past 2 weeks, but every time I sit down to write it, I get distracted by the constant daydream that surrounds this post. The days and hours leading up to a time before our life truly changed, and our experience in the transition of becoming parents.

On our long drive back from Georgia a couple Sundays ago, Justin and I were discussing how we sometimes experience flashes of images from events in our past. They creep up out of nowhere, seemingly random, invading our thoughts and leaving us with the warmest of smiles as we secretly reminisce within the privacy of our minds the wonderful happenings of days gone by.

Lately, my flashes have been consumed with that beautiful November evening, surrounded by love and happiness, we welcomed our sweet Ellery into our family. The images are slightly different each time but each inspires the same multitude of emotions. One of my most visited memories of that night takes place when we were alone in the hospital room, just the three of us, in the wee hours of the morning. The light was softly beaming in through the open blinds, rising up from the well-lit parking lot just below, to give the hospital room a warm glow. It was 2 am,  Justin asleep on the couch and the room eerily quiet. I sat there, 4 hours removed from the most intense, yet most amazing experience of my life, holding our newborn, just staring at her flawless face, not wanting to blink in fear of missing part of the magic that now encompassed the entire room. In that moment, everything was perfect.

The image of that moment shows up at the most unexpected times. It is a special reminder of that sweet time in our recent past that I do not want to forget.  But I'm fearful that with the hustle and bustle of daily life, setting sleep schedules, and watching Ellie grow, it will slowly fade to a distant memory that will become slightly more vague with each passing day.

That memory is this:

There was a chill in the air that day as I briskly walked into my OB's office for a second appointment that week. I was 41 weeks pregnant and my doctor had scheduled an ultrasound to ensure the babies safety, since I was slightly overdue, and to take her final measurements. Induction was to be discussed, but not supposed to be scheduled until the following week, giving Ellery time to come on her own if she wanted to.

I waited in a crowded waiting area, making small talk with other very pregnant ladies for about an hour before being called in by the ultrasound tech. She was all smiles and super friendly as she rubbed the warm gel on my tummy just seconds before the image of Ellery appeared before us. We had done this a dozen times before, but that day was a little different. I knew I was looking at the same little girl I would be holding in my arms in the very near future.

After taking measurements and making notes here and there, the ultrasound tech asked to be excused for a minute while she spoke with my doctor. This was not part of our normal ultrasound routine. Typically the tech takes a look, prints out pictures, and says everything looks great. When she returned to the room, she handed me a can of Mountain Dew and a bag of peanut M&Ms. I gave her a puzzled look as I asked her if I was allowed to drink that, since I was pregnant after all and hadn't had any caffeine (other than what's in chocolate) since I found out. She chuckled a little at my 'do everything by the books' approach and explained that in the 30 minutes she had been observing my baby, she had not detected any movement, which could indicate a stressful environment and be harmful on Little.  The M&Ms and Mountain Dew were to help wake the baby and stimulate movement.

I was moved to another room and asked to lay down and count movements. When I counted ten I was to call for a nurse. Thirty more minutes passed and a nurse came to check on me. She asked if I finished the snacks the ultrasound tech had given me and what the count was up to. I had in fact scarfed down the M&Ms, because I was not going to argue when eating chocolate was the best thing for my baby! But I just couldn't force myself to pump that much caffeine into my pregnant body, after 9 months of being strictly against it, so I forwent the Mountain Dew. The any-movement-at-all count was up to 2.

The doctor was called in, and my options were laid out in front of me. Everyone knew I was not an advocate for induction, and I wanted to avoid it at all costs, but if my precious little girl could potentially be put in harms way by waiting a few more days, then I would consider it. After a few tears and a very long discussion with my doctor (who really is an angel), she made the executive decision, and instructed me to call my husband and tell him I was headed to the hospital to have a baby.

Shaking, I picked up the phone and dialed his number. When he answered there was no small talk whatsoever. In a hushed tone I told him, 'I think you should come home. The doctor says I'm having the baby today.' He was about an hour away in Louisiana and would be home around one o' clock. So, freaking out a bit, I called one of our friends, Kristin, who promptly took off work, met me at my house to help calm me down and pack a hospital bag. I had skipped breakfast because I was running late, so she fixed me chicken noodle soup.

When Justin got home, Kristin headed back to work, and we headed to the hospital. We checked in on the Labor and Delivery floor and were promptly settled me into a room. When Justin and I were alone in the room where I was going to have our daughter, I lost it. Every feeling imaginable was running through me. Were we ready to have a baby? How was my body going to react to induction? What happened to having one last weekend as just the two of us? As the tears fell, Justin held me close, reminding me that I didn't have to do anything I wasn't comfortable with. I didn't have to be induced if I didn't want to be, the baby was healthy, and that we were going be great as a family of three.

Before I knew it the tears had stopped,  I was in bed, hospital gown on, and several tubes running from my hands to the beeping machines in the corner of the room. It was really happening. It was now 2pm. The nurses came in and started the pitocin drip and the contractions started shortly thereafter. I was already 100% effaced and 3 cm dilated when I checked in, but I braced myself for the possibility of laboring all through the night.

After about an hour of hard contractions coming every minute and lasting for thirty seconds or so, the nurse came in a checked my dilation. I realize now that I made the mistake of telling the nursing staff that I wanted to wait until I was at least 5 cm dilated before considering an epidural. The mistake was not because I needed it before, but because this made the nurses think they should check my progression more frequently than they probably should have. They also thought I was crazy for not accepting it right away, and still offered the epidural any chance they got. So, I tried to fake it and act as if I wasn't uncomfortable anytime a nurse came around, which I'm quite sure I wasn't fooling anyone.

Dear husband helped me through the contractions like a champ. He seemed about as exhausted as I was as he let me wrap my arms tight around his neck and rock back and forth until the contraction ended. He whispered words of encouragement through his tiredness and just smiled as each one passed. When I felt I couldn't remember anything I'd learned from my hypnobirthing books and relaxation techniques, he called his sister, Emily, for breathing tips and advice!


My doctor, who was not on call but wanted to be there for the delivery anyway, came in around 4pm and broke my water and determined I was at 4 cms. While she was in the room the nurses asked if I would like an epidural yet. The doctor looked from her to me and said, 'I thought you were going to try this without one.' I nodded and she promptly asked the nurse to not ask me again and stated I would let them know when I was ready.

I continued to labor for a couple more hours before anyone checked in on me. This time it was a team of nurses around 6pm. They asked if I would like to be checked one more time before the anesthesiologist went into a c-section and wouldn't be available for at least an hour. After slight hesitation I allowed it. I was now at 6 cm and pretty tired. The anesthesiologist came in around 30 minutes later. Holding completely still while hard contractions rushed through my entire body was exhausting. The epidural created a tingling sensation in my toes first and proceeded to expand upward. Soon I was unable to move anything below my chest, which I found a bit disturbing.

After that, time moved at an incredible rate. My labor was moving pretty quickly and I was progressing a little more than a centimeter per hour. The next time the nurse came in was about 8:45pm.  I was now at 9 cm. They were going to give me 45 more minutes and would come in again.  Next time they checked I was fully dilated to 10 and I felt the urge to push at 9:40pm. After the epidural was inserted, I did not push the button for more to be released, so at this time much of the anesthesia had worn off.

I felt invigorated. I felt powerful. I was doing what my body was created to do. Fifteen minutes of pushing and a couple of 'I can't do it' 's later, this disgustingly beautiful little baby, still covered in slim and blood made her way into that room and melted our hearts.

I didn't cry. I was too overwhelmed with every single emotion for my body to be prompted to form tears. Instead, I focused on my sweet husband who couldn't stop smiling. Grinning from ear to ear, overcome with emotion himself, sheer happiness filled the room and created a sense of calm. We had a daughter. She was perfect, all 7lbs 10 oz of her.  We made this little creature that was now being measured, weighed, poked and prodded.  She was beautiful.

Our friends had been waiting outside for about an hour when the nurses allowed for visitors. Justin bolted out the door to tell the news, and the lullaby chimed over the intercom signifying a baby was born. We all laughed and celebrated and commented on the cone-shape of her head. There was so much joy, so much love. I truly have a fond memory of the birthing process. I do not remember pain, only intensity, and the love that surrounded every moment.

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Over the past year, I have become intrigued by birth and the birthing process. I have also become an advocate for researching typical medical protocol, epidurals, and inductions, as well as knowing my rights as a laboring woman to help form the best birth plan for me and my family. Every decision I made had a purpose. My mission was to avoid a c-section at all cost while providing a calm and stress-free environment for Little to enter, even if that meant laboring longer or feeling those powerful contractions. Thankfully my body was ready for labor and I had a positive induction experience. Knowing the facts, both the good and the bad about induction and epidurals is important when making the best birthing decisions for you. Every woman is different and desires different things. Some want a c-section. Some want to feel nothing at all. While others want to experience every tightening of every muscle as their little one enters the world. It is such a personal decision and no woman should be judged on how they decide to bring their baby into this big, wonderful world. Just be knowledgeable and informed so you can make the best decision for you. 

These are some  of the articles I used while making my decisions:

Labor Side Effects to an Epidural
CIMS Induction Fact Sheet
The Rights of Childbearing Women

I believe in preparing mentally and physically for the stages of labor. Every woman is different and has her own unique birthing expectation, therefore she should create the birthing plan that is right for her.