My little guy is the light of my life and the way he came into this world is probably my most favourite story ever told, and I want to share my story with you.
In the spring of 2016, 3 weeks before my due date, my husband, Mark, & I thought it would be a good idea to take some prenatal shots. I always thought 37 weeks would be the ideal time to take them when your belly is looking perfectly swollen, but your ankles haven’t quite puffed out so you’re still lookin’ pretty cute.
My husband, who is an amazing photographer, suggested we head out to the mountains, about 90 minutes from where we live. We shot at a few locations before heading to our last, where Mark was planning to sneak into a few photos. He was setting up his tripod and light stands when I told him I had to pee. Since we were in the mountains with nobody around us, I decided to pop a squat. Classy right? Anyway, that’s exactly when my water broke.
The drive home was hilarious. We were both totally in denial and didn’t even bother to call our Midwives. Instead, I sent them a jovial “sorry to bug ya” kind of email. My Midwife phoned me exactly 45 seconds later asking us to head to the clinic immediately.
Once we got there, she examined me and I was already 5cm dilated! My contractions were just starting to pick up but were totally manageable. So manageable, in fact, that we stopped at the grocery store afterwards to pick up some goodies for the night. Our Midwives told us to head home (where we were planning to have Baby), grab a bite to eat, and settle in for a looooong night ahead.
The moment I got home, my contractions got REAL. There was some serious visceral moaning, hot & cold flashes, shaking, oh… and I vomited twice. I was hesitant to call our Midwives too soon because I had heard of so many women calling prematurely and getting all hyped up only to have the baby like 48 hours later.
Mark was a freaking rockstar and was 100% in the zone. He was monitoring my contractions with some fancy app, catering to my every whim, getting our bedsheets prepped, and barbecuing pork chops… because, that’s what one does when you’re in the zone. He was so busy running around the house, that each time he came back to me he was sweatier and sweatier. I’m pretty certain he was breathing harder than I was for most of the night.
When sh*t got real
Mark finally convinced me that it was time to call our Midwives, and the first one showed up at 12:15am. She took one look at me and said “I’m calling my backup. Where are we having this baby?” Mark and I looked at her with wide eyes (like we were still in denial and shock or something…) and told her our bedroom might be a nice place. She examined me on the bed and told me to start pushing right away.
The pushing phase wasn’t anything like I had expected. It was INTENSE but I was coached through it beautifully. And at 1:44am on April 12, Henry popped out. A little blue, but absolutely perfect. We chose not to find out the gender beforehand, so when Mark was the one to look and tell me, it was hands down the best surprise ever. It was a peaceful, no drama, happy, and surprisingly clean delivery. Nothing like the movies.
After the Delivery
Henry was immediately placed on my chest where Mark and I just looked at him in amazement. Not only because it happened so quickly (and early), but because I was able to deliver him naturally. At home. With no complications. How incredible is that? It was the proudest moment of my life.
My labour lasted for a total of 3 hours and 20 minutes. I didn’t tear, I didn’t poop , and I was out walking the very next day. I know a lot of deliveries can be tough and scary, and we hear this a lot from friends and acquaintances and see it in so many movies. These labour stories are so widely talked about because drama is intriguing to us for some reason. And while it might be boring to hear a non-eventful and happy birth story, I want you to know that it’s totally possible and not something to be feared. Our bodies are truly remarkable.
And with that, I sign off with love, peace & pork chop babies