fftf: literally everyone has one...
a birth story, that is!
I don’t have anything food-related to report today, so instead I’m sharing my first daughter’s birth story… which is something I have been meaning to write since she was born, but apparently needed the self-imposed deadline of my second daughter’s impending arrival to complete (currently 3 weeks out from due date)!
This is written in retrospect from my memory, with the help of “contraction” notes on my phone, a few timestamped photos from the day, and a very helpful, detailed report that was kept/written/shared with me by the midwives who delivered Jazzy.
This is a positive birth story, which I feel very lucky to have experienced, as I know how much can go wrong. I was encouraged by reading positive stories before my birth experience, so figure it doesn’t hurt to add another positive one to the mix :).
I don’t think this has too many gruesome details, although I do mention several types of bodily fluids. I hope you enjoy (or feel free to skip if you’re not interested)!
I remember after giving birth, being in wonder that literally EVERYONE walking around on this planet & their mom has some kind of birth story… they came into the world one way or another, ranging the gamut from beautiful to traumatic and everything in between. There are billions of birth stories, how amazing! Here’s mine & Jazzy’s:
About two weeks before I birthed Jazzy, I spent several hours in deep focus, making a labor playlist. It quickly turned into both an exercise AND series of songs that reminded me of making a great running playlist before a big race (I’ve run one marathon and several halfs). This felt right.
My labor playlist, which I named “Transcendent for Transformation” (lol, very aspirational) featured mainly upbeat songs, falling into categories such as comforting, meaningful, positive/encouraging, or ones that reminded me of babies or new beginnings.
I absolutely did NOT end up using my playlist during labor, as there was no time. But while I labored at home, one song from the list became my theme song for the day, and I played it on repeat while bouncing on my pink exercise ball to get through all my contractions at home.
The song is “Morning Sun” by Melody Gardot (listen on spotify; youtube), and it goes like this:
Hey little babe
don’t you cry
we got that sunny morning waiting on us now
there’s a light at the end of the tunnel
we can be worry free
just take it from me
honey child
let me tell you now, child
that morning sun
is here to greet us
with a loving light
so warm
that morning sun
is here to meet us
waiting on the waking up of everyone
she ain’t gonna quit
till you’re smiling now
let me tell you child
let me tell you honey, child
that morning sun has come to greet ya
she’s peeking round the corner just waiting just to meetcha
shining down on all your troubles
let me tell you child
let me tell you honey child
cause this world was made for dreaming
this world was made for you
this world made for believing
in all the things you’re gonna do
now honey child
let me tell you now child
…
I got into bed late Thursday night on August 4, 2022 around 11:30pm, but quickly got back up again to use the bathroom, which was when I felt an intense bowling-ball heavy pressure in my pelvis, and shortly thereafter, a sensation which made me think… “is this a contraction?!” It was now early Friday morning, exactly one week before my due date of August 12, 2022.
After laying in bed through about three more of these sensations, I decided they probably were contractions, and figured this would be a good time to finish packing my “hospital1” bag 🤣. After that, and through more light contractions every 10-15 mins, I decided I better write my final Food for Thought Friday newsletter to announce I was taking a break from writing when baby came. I posted a cute pregnant pic of myself on Instagram, knowing it would be irrelevant soon. I also texted my best friend on the west coast, who was 3 hours behind and thus might still be awake (she was, yay for late night company!).
I had had a feeling this baby would be earlier than my due date, and I had an intuition of August 7th in my head. Per Harry Potter lore, I think of 7 as “the most magical”/lucky number, so I had gotten mildly attached to this possible birth date. When I realized it was currently, instead, August 5th, I was disappointed… but quickly realized that the numeric date was 8-5-22. My own birthday is 5-22-88, which means, if this baby came within 24 hours, we would have SHARED BIRTHDAY NUMBER MAGIC… I HAD to have this baby today!
I continued contracting through the night, and getting things done as I was kind of hyped up on adrenaline, wonder, nerves, and anticipation. I don’t remember it being too painful, but rather pretty manageable. I remember bouncing on my pink ball (a parting gift from my friend Karen in SF, thanks K!) to support my belly, listening to “Morning Sun,” and taking notes about the contractions on my phone. I also started vomiting intermittently… my body was going into EJECT mode.
My husband realized I wasn’t in bed around 3am and came to see what was happening. I told him, and encouraged him to try to sleep. Of course then he also couldn’t, so kept coming to check on me intermittently. I continued contracting through the night.
At some point in the early morning after my “tasks” were complete, I laid down in bed and tried to rest, which slowed the contractions a bit. In the morning, I added some mantras to my bouncy-ball-getting-through-contractions practice. I told the baby (in my head): “Swim to me! Swim to me!” and “Please come before midnight!” (I really wanted our shared birthday number magic.) I had read something about the baby also doing part of the work to make their way down and out, and another thing about reframing contractions as “waves” ushering the baby out, and I liked these images.
Around noon, my mom and brother Anthony came over to drop off the food my mom had cooked for our freezer. I visited with them a bit, contracting through it, though they were less intense while I was distracted. At 1pm I had a pre-scheduled call with a doula from the doula team I was working with2, and told her what was happening. She told me I might want to try to rest up if I hadn’t slept all night, but also that that would slow down the contractions, and that if I wanted to speed things up and get the birth going, I should walk around/do household chores, etc.
Before my mom and brother left, I had them help my husband hang a large weaving I had made (with oceany colors) in our room, right above the baby’s bassinet - my final act of nesting! I made my mom take one final photo of me pregnant. Then my mom and brother left, and I decided to rest for a little before planning to walk around and get the labor going.
I rested for about an hour, and when I got back up, my contractions soon began to intensify a bit. At this point, I had continued to vomit throughout the day, unable to keep anything (even water) down. My contractions were getting more frequent but still pretty erratic - anywhere between 5-12 mins apart (per my notes/contraction timer app screenshots).
Around 5pm, the contractions were getting more painful and my water broke, so we called the midwives. The midwife on call took in all my details, and told us to stay home a bit longer since my contractions were still far apart - she said to try to eat and drink something since I hadn’t.
We hung up and my husband made me an Ezekiel english muffin with butter and tomatoes, which I promptly vomited (I knew I would). I was now stationed in the bathroom, because of the various bodily fluids coming out of me from all ends. My husband quietly, automatically, and continuously cleaned up said fluids, and I remember thinking, “This is love.”
Around 6:45pm, it was getting more painful/I was getting a bit delirious, so we called in again. This time it was a different midwife on call, Jessie, who I had just seen at my appointment the day previous, which comforted me. She heard me through a contraction and said it sounded like I was struggling, so we should come in. They would meet us at the Midwife Center in about 30 mins. (This location is about a 15 min drive from our house; the midwives themselves are not necessarily there when you call, depending what day/time it is.)
We packed up our stuff (in between contractions) and got in the car. I remember my view from the passenger seat: a small trash can at my feet (to catch my vomit), and a towel under me to collect the water, ie, amniotic fluid, which was still coming out periodically. As soon as we started driving, I groaned. I could feel every little bump in the road; it was incredibly painful to be sitting.
I closed my eyes, opening them periodically to check our progress on the route I had driven many times the past two months to all my midwife appointments since we’d arrived in Pittsburgh.
I had approximately 4 contractions during the 15 min car ride. On the third, I vaguely remember being scared the baby was coming out in the car. My husband has reminded me that I said out loud something like, “Please don’t come yet, baby, don’t come in the car!”
We arrived at the Midwife Center at 7:30pm (according to the time log they put in my notes). I had to stop in the small lobby where they greeted us, to make it through another contraction. We entered the birthing suite and they started checking me out. I remember NOT being comfortable on the bed, so I stood up. I remember taking one contraction standing, holding onto my husband. At this point, everything was VERY painful and I remember screaming bloody murder, someone telling me to try to make “low whale noises,” but those did not want to come out of me. They checked me and I was 10 centimeters dilated - holy shit - time to push! It was the absolute worst pain of my life, and I was terrified. I felt like a train was trying to break through the bottom half of my body, but I didn’t want to let it through because I thought I would be WRECKED if I did. But I knew I had to (at this point, I was in a raw, primal state of physicality and intuition).
I asked if I could get into the birthing tub; they said yes. I knew I needed to somehow “relax” a little if I was going to let this baby out, and I thought the water might help with that. They offered me an IV since I was obviously dehydrated at this point, having not been able to keep down any food or fluids all day. I said sure, as long as I can still get in the tub, I’ll take the IV. They said yes, you can get in the tub with the IV. They couldn’t get it in my wrist, I remember two attempts, but that pain was only vaguely noticeable compared to everything happening in my pelvis. Laying back in the tub, I was still screaming high-pitched at this point, and they told me to start pushing with the contractions. I pushed once, twice. After the third push, I remember gripping the sides of the tub, exclaiming “I FELTTTT THE TEARRRR!” One more push, and then the vivid, strange slithering sensation of a wet body sliding out of me, followed by instant relief from the pain, and suddenly there was a tiny pink baby being lifted out of the water and placed on my stomach, crying.
I’m sure I cried out, as it all happened SO fast and was SO intense, it was shocking. We didn’t know the sex at this point, because we were being surprised! So I lifted my baby off my belly to see if it was a boy or girl. First I saw the umbilical cord, which I confused for a penis in my state of shock and exclaimed, “It’s Sami!” (that was our boy name), but then I quickly realized my mistake and corrected it, “Oh no, I mean, it’s Jazmine!!!!! It’s a girl!” She cried loudly, had a head full of dark hair, and was super pink, with wrinkly, waterlogged hands and a chubberific face.
My husband was at my left and we stared at each other, wide-eyed and incredulous, and I said to him something like, “THAT WAS SO INTENSE!!!”
Jazmine was born at 8:16pm on August 5, 2022, into the birthing tub, a mere 45 minutes after we had arrived at the Midwife Center. There was no time for a playlist, pain meds, or anything else that I thought may have been included in my birth experience.
According to the notes the midwives made, I said:
“'Its a girl!' … Jessica so obviously relieved and in love with her new baby! … 'I cant believe I just did that, that was so cool!’ “ (LOL, very original.)
After Jazzy got checked out (she was all good), and I delivered the placenta (which took a while because I was NOT intent on pushing anything else out of me), and then got stitched up (2nd degree tear), we got an hour of “golden time” where they left us alone as a new family to bond. We face-timed my parents and Fawad’s family and snuggled with Jazmine (I wasn’t really calling her Jazzy yet) and took it all in.
At this point I was FAMISHED, and the midwives made me scrambled eggs with cheese and an english muffin, with avocado added because I had brought one from home for them to put on, LOL #priorities. They brought me a pitcher of water, and I’m sure I drank the whole thing.
They continued checking vitals for me and the baby, and advised us about feeding. Jazzy started nursing pretty easily right away, and they brought a little side-cot-bassinet thing where she slept next to us.
The Midwife Center policy is that you have to stay a minimum of 4 hours after the baby is born, and can stay up to a max of 12 hours if you want. Based on how you’re doing, they’ll tell you how long they advise you to stay. They said we were looking good and were welcome to go home after four hours, which was around midnight. I was a little nervous, so I wanted to stay the night. We slept fitfully in the queen bed there in the birthing suite (still way better than a hospital bed!), and left for home around 9am the next morning.
On the way home, we stopped for bagels and lox at our favorite shop. I was insatiably hungry. I sent lots of texts and did some FaceTime calls to friends. It was a sunny, warm August day.
At home, we took it easy and got situated, and that night, I ate the best meal of my life - my mom’s lasagna, her version of the Don Angie recipe. Seriously I have never tasted anything more delicious and have never been more deeply famished in my life.
In the immediate aftermath of the birth for me, much like running a race, I was still hyped up on adrenaline/joy and not feeling too much pain. It wasn’t until I went to bed the first night at home that I felt in my body what it had done/been through. I laid down and felt like I had been hit by a bus, I was so sore and exhausted. My back hurt so much that I had to get my heating pad to lay on, I knew I would not be able to sleep a wink as it was.
The first several days/nights postpartum are a blur, with a few standout memories. One of my first thoughts was how NAIVE I had been to opt out of the opportunity for an epidural 🤣. (They only have laughing gas at the Midwife Center.) Luckily the painful part of my birth was QUICK, because I don’t think I could have endured much more. I found it terrifying.
I also remember the waves of absolute RELIEF that hit me in the days following. I hadn’t realized how much fear and trepidation I had been carrying at all the things that could go wrong, either for me or the baby. That all had gone well, REALLY well, was such a weight off my chest.
Jazzy was sweet and snuggly and SO SMOOSHY and obviously we were obsessed with her. Luckily feeding went well/easy enough for us… except about a week in where she wasn’t gaining weight as quickly as the pediatricians wanted and we had to start supplementing with formula. (That part was fine, I just didn’t love how they made me feel during the process.) It resolved in a few weeks, but that paired with the sleep deprivation was stressful.
Several nights in those early weeks, I was absolutely exhausted, but could not sleep. Probably the adrenaline/hormone mix. I wrote in my journal, and happily cried/sobbed while reading through the “log” notes that the midwives had written down about my birth. How happy and sweet to have these!
I also realized that the midwife who delivered Jazmine was named “Jessie Sue” - which was my nickname my dad always used when he sang to me as a little kid (my middle name is Susan). This felt like a special coincidence!
I was obviously aware, but hadn’t particularly been worried about postpartum depression for myself. I luckily didn’t experience that; I did have an interesting experience with my hormones/emotions though. In those first few weeks, at night, when I couldn’t sleep, I would find myself SOBBING for 10-20 minute periods, thinking about every sad thing that had happened in the past two years of my life. I would think about some past event, sob for 10 minutes, feel a little better, pause. And then I would think about it again and SOB about it all over again. This, I could tell, was the hormones. Normally after sobbing I would have processed & released it, but not with these hormones raging. I was on emotional repeat.
I was also amazed at how quickly the pain memories disappear and you forget how painful birth is! My friends had warned me about this and it was true.
Heading into the second time around, I am much more chill and confident. I realize that I have basically no control over how it goes. Granted, I had a very positive first birth, so that gives me confidence, even though I know it’s not really a predictor of much the second time. They say the second one is often faster, so I’m prepared to go in sooner this time, for sure! If I have time, this time I’ll definitely be requesting some laughing gas, although - I chose the Midwife Center again, so - once again opting out of the epidural 🤣.
Since I didn’t use the playlist last time, I’m not expecting to this time around, but I did pick a new potential theme song...
It’s called “Everywhere, Everything” by Noah Kahan, from his album Stick Season. It’s a romantic love song, a little anthem-y and also surprisingly tender, and the chorus goes like this:
everywhere everything
I wanna love you till we’re food for the worms to eat
till our fingers decompose
keep my hand in yours
This is a shockingly vivid, kind of morbid lyric, and I’m weirdly obsessed with it. The image of fingers decomposing reminds me of the primal nature of birth - so intense! It reminds me of parenting a baby - so much poop and pee and milk and messy fluids everywhere. This song evokes, for me, an intensity of love that reminds me of the parental love & wonder I feel, having dreamed of being a parent my whole life (and for a time, thinking that maybe I wouldn’t get to be one). I already know I love this incoming kid so deeply, that ideally I’d hold her little hand for both our whole lives.
These lyrics also remind me of what I believe is the main thing that makes my husband and I a good match - and that is the shared depth and intensity with which we both want a family, and a lasting love/partnership. I like that the lyric is, “I wanna love you till…” not “I will love you till...” Marriage & parenting are HARD, yo! The act of bringing new people into this world now ties us together forever - in a beautiful way, and also a vulnerable one. This song makes me think of that leap of faith, and the dream that if we can maintain that kind of love till our dying days, that that would be one of THE greatest gifts we could give our kids. And we hope to :).
Thanks for reading! I’ll be back at some point in June (now giving myself permission to take the whole month...), after birth #2.
Have a wonderful May, my favorite month of them all!
love,
Jess
Putting hospital in quotes because I gave birth at a Midwife Center.
I found out there was a free program available through my healthcare in Pittsburgh where you can work with a “team” of doulas, meaning you get one assigned to you to help with all your birth prep, but at your actual birth, you’ll have whoever is “on call” from the doula team. My birth happened so fast that the doula on call didn’t show up until afterwards, oh well!