Annabelle Jane's birth story

On January 25th, 2015 we welcomed our little number three to our family. Here's the story, it's my favorite so far.

I woke up at 3:00 in the morning with contractions. I had started spotting, and felt like these contractions were real enough that I should probably prepare. I got up, turned on the softest lights, and folded laundry and did dishes until the house was ready for me to leave. The contractions were every ten to fifteen minutes and were about 30 seconds long. Brent woke up at 6:00, and asked if he should go to his Stake meetings or stay home. I told him to stay, which then resulted in the entire stake knowing I was in labor. I was certain we'd have a baby by noon because my labors have been so fast.

But ironically after contractions all morning, by lunch they had all but stopped. Although that morning they were every ten minutes, they slowed to 30 minutes apart, and then 60 minutes. Now the kids were awake, and the house had reverted back into it's usual display of chaos and mess. All my work, and the early morning cleaning frenzy, seemed to have been for nothing except to drain me of any extra energy. I laid down for a nap, and when I woke up I was revitalized with the idea of finally being done with pregnancy. I decided I would do whatever I needed to to move it forward. I started walking quickly on the treadmill every half hour. I did lunges to the mailbox and back (thank you Laura for the idea), and I cleaned the house: bend, pick up, put away, repeat. This lasted for a few hours and by 1:00 I decided you can't change nature and all but gave up.

We put Blake down for his nap, I walked outside and watched Brent hit some golf balls, and then went inside for a drink of water. And then BOOM. The strongest contraction yet stopped me in my tracks. I couldn't walk. I couldn't breathe. I just sank into it. And then I heard a pop, and out gushed my water. This had never happened before. In my other two births my water broke just seconds before the baby was out, so naturally sheer panic struck me as I was standing there in my living room. I yelled to Brent and he kicked into gear.

He ran across the street and literally grabbed the neighbor girl and dragged her over to sit with Brooklynn until our childcare could arrive. While he was away, Brooklynn had a rare moment of total calm. She came up to me with the softest demeanor, looked right into my eyes, and said "Be strong mom. I love you." and gave me a very gentle hug.

We grabbed my bag, jumped into the car, and raced to the hospital 10 minutes away. As we were driving he was calling my midwife, leaving her messages that we were on our way . . . calling labor and delivery and telling them we were coming . . . calling my doula and telling her to meet us there.

When we arrived I told Brent (stupidly) to park in the parking lot because I could use the walk to the door. What was I thinking? I think I was just delaying the hospital experience as long as I could. We got out of the car and I entered phase II. Phase I in my book is excitement to meet the baby and feelings of euphoria that today is the day. Phase II I always spin into uncontrollable sobbing. It's not the pain, it's an emotional release that I seem to need each time. I cry and cry and cry and cry and cry. And I imagine what is in front of me and I cry some more. But the crying really does feel good, in a weird way. I slowly stepped, one foot after the other, crying the whole way, through the parking lot. I was a lot further along than I thought, and the walk - the walk was not a good idea.

I made it to the hospital doors at 2:00 only to feel like I couldn't go a step further. I leaned against the outside brick, and just cried and cried as the patients and doctors came in and out. Then finally to the elevator, where a couple looked on in complete surprise as I held on to the railing and breathed our way up to the 3rd floor. Except the couple had to get off on 2 and the woman was furious at her husband for not letting us go first, which I thought was really funny.

When we got to the security guard in Labor and Delivery she took one look at me and said "oh we don't have time to check you in dear, come with me" and ushered us quickly through the locked doors. As the nurses got the room ready another contraction hit and my doula appeared. I knew in this moment there was no way I was going to make it to the room. I had reached that place where my body wasn't going to be moving, it needed to focus on the task at hand. My mind raced through options. Brent carry me? no, please no, don't touch me. Wheel chair. Sit? Absolutely not. I resigned to the fact that legs were my best option. The contraction stopped and I slowly breathed as we made our way to the room. I was sweating bullets, and felt like I was holding baby in with every step. I told them on the next contraction I was going to need to push.

So imagine my surprise when the midwife checked me to reveal I was a FIVE.
A FIVE.
I've done this twice before. I've never felt that far along and not BEEN that far along. Everything in me deflated. I've never gotten to a hospital before I was at least a seven. So much longer to go. So far until the end. I just couldn't believe it and the tears started again.

With every contraction I breathed. I breathed down and out and down and out and imagined my breath taking baby down. I talked to her. I told her we could do this. Just come on down. I closed my eyes. I held Brent's hand. I focused. The nurses talked in quiet, peaceful tones. They asked if they could do more or less, and what would be helpful. They directed every question to Brent and left me alone to focus.

And then I reached the point of no return. I didn't want to be here. I didn't want to do this. I begged for the epidural. They told me it wasn't an option - we were too far along. I wanted to tear their eyes out.

The nurse said she would be back soon to check on me, and before she could get out of the room I said "I'm crowning". She said "I'm not sure you are", and I said "I'M CROWNING". She raced to get the midwife, and everything in my world disappeared into one single thought. Brooklynn. Brooklynn standing there with that innocent expression of faith. Faith that I was strong.
"Be strong Mom."
It repeated over and over and over in my mind. I whispered it. I chanted it. I hung desperately onto it.
"I am strong. I am strong."
I was vaguely aware that others in the room were reciting it with me. "You are strong. You are strong." It became a slow and consistent pulse through the room. Strength, being grasped, torn from the air, clung to, and displayed, like a tangible electric current. The last few moments were dictated by the midwife, who said calmly "okay Melissa, on this next push we need to get baby out." (little did I know that she wasn't turning, and her shoulders were not coming, heart rate dropping). She said "I know your body may say stop but you have to keep pushing until I say. Here we go. 1.2.3. push." Annabelle Jane was born to me roaring in strength. Then finally, relief. I crumbled into the bed and reached for my baby. I was the first one to cradle her and I didn't let go for an hour. I kissed her wet hair and the two of us, her and I, we cried together. Brent waited until the umbilical chord stopped pulsing and then cut it.

She came at 2:25 PM, twenty-five minutes after we got to the hospital. She weighed 9 pounds 1 ounce, at 21 inches long. My birth team was amazing. After the fact I learned that all the nurses there had done natural births themselves. My midwife never made it (keeping up the tradition), but the midwife on call was wonderful. They checked all her vitals while she was skin to skin and never asked to take her from me. Later they sponged her off in my room, with me right there. After about an hour Brent went and picked up the kids so they could meet their sister and all the nurses were happy to have them come. The next day I checked out before I had been there 24 hours. Not once did they ask about an epidural, not once did they talk about pain, and I was in and out with total support. Best birth experience ever.

I felt so filled with light. Annabelle, coming from the preexistence, was met inside my mind by her older sister Brooklynn, and I was somewhere in the middle being carried. It took three times, but this experience wasn't one I would trade for anything. I am so grateful to have had an experience surrounded by supportive people. Annabelle Jane, your birth is one I'll treasure. Welcome to our family.