Elliot’s Birth at a Freestanding Birth Center

I woke up around 4am on the last day of August knowing things were starting. Contractions were manageable and I slept between them. They trailed off until about 2pm and I went about my day, trying to chisel down my to-do list. Contractions were back by evening and this time I needed to focus, to get out of bed. I let Will sleep as much as I could since I knew we had a long day ahead once the sun came up.

Our midwife visited around 3am to check on us; my blood pressure had been a concern lately. All looked good. I was to keep doing my thing until our weekly appointment the next morning. We packed our bags and got the dogs to a friend’s. I knew baby was coming soon.

At the appointment, I was 4-5cm dilated and 90% effaced, but baby was still pretty high and there was a big bag of waters between his head and my cervix. I was relieved to hear all those contractions were doing something. We decided to stay at the birth center and do it!

We made ourselves at home and our doula, Elise, arrived soon. She started helping me through contractions with counter pressure and it was so helpful. Things got more intense feeling, but baby wasn’t moving down. We tried some (uncomfortable) positions and movements to encourage him to move. After an hour or two, he had moved enough that we were comfortable breaking my water.

So. Much. Fluid. And some meconium. He moved down a bit, but then we realized he was stuck on my pelvis. The midwives did a little switcheroo and Adrianna came in with new energy and a plan. She had me lunging stairs, doing deep squats through contractions, on the toilet, on the bed, in the tub, all over. Also by this time, everyone knew I’d been at it for a long time and needed baby out sooner rather than later.

Contractions continued to get stronger and closer together. Did they feel like strong menstrual cramps? Sure, at first. But by this time they were something else. The breathing I trained with went out the window. I started to moan, sometimes I just yelled. I was getting exhausted and frustrated and, honestly, scared. I had planned to breathe and melt into surges, but found myself tensing and pulling away.

We decided to kick things into high gear and use the birth stool. I was pushing, baring down still trying to get baby lower. He was still around a -3 station and I was nearly completely dilated. I started losing control of my breath and needed oxygen. The midwife checked me and realized baby had cleared my pelvis but was now stuck on a cervical lip. So she would physically push the lip back while I pushed through contractions. I started to leave my body. In retrospect, I was passing out for small periods and panicking when I came to, not knowing what was going on or why I was in so much pain. I realized I needed to communicate and share what I was feeling. I heard myself saying “I’m freaking out” again and again.

We changed it up and moved into the bathroom. This time we had a heart-to-heart with the midwife. She said “You know yourself and your body better than anyone. What do you need?” I looked at Will and then said, “I’m not well enough to have this baby right now.” And the decision was done - we were transferring to the hospital. My body needed a rest before it could birth this baby.

Everyone pivoted - the midwife called the hospital, Will packed up and got the car, I got dressed, everyone was packed up and ready to go (and also very exhausted). It was about 2am. I was flooded with emotion - disappointment that I wasn’t going to have the birth I had planned for and wanted, stress about hospital bills, anxiety about the unknown, even thoughts about what people would say when I shared that we ended up in the hospital with pain medications.

I think the emotions gave me one last adrenaline kick. While everyone was preparing for the transfer, the contractions somehow got even more powerful. I fell to the floor with each one, now sweating buckets and full on screaming. I didn’t leave my body the way I had earlier, but I was channeling other people, namely someone named James. I also felt someone named Thomas and Theodore hanging around - turns out my doula’s child’s name is Theodore and she had just been at the birth of a Thomas. I was now pretty certain I was about to birth a boy.

The midwife, hearing me from the next room where she was explaining my situation to the hospital, came in and asked to check me one more time. I think she knew these contractions sounded different. She said, “Abbey, baby is right there. I think you can do this.” I agreed. I also didn’t think I could make it to the hospital.

For an hour and 5 minutes more, I was on my hands and knees in the dark working through contractions. My knees were slipping from sweat and who knows what else and my wrists were weak. It was grueling and I was begging for someone to say “I can see the head!”

Finally I noticed someone come in with warm olive oil. A sign that the end was near!! I kept pushing, kept yelling, kept working until Adrianna asked Will if he wanted to come around and see. In a few minutes he said, “I see the head and I think it has a lot of hair!”

That’s all I needed. A few more pushes and I felt the ring of fire which was truly intense. Elise coached me calmly and I knew it was almost over. Then I got the clear to push and out came Elliot Hazel. Adrianna slid him under me and I scooped him up, forgetting to check his sex. Will came around and cue the waterworks.

They moved me into bed where I birthed the placenta and got 3 cosmetic stitches. When we got me up to rinse off, I passed out so sponge bath in bed it was. I had lost about 1000cc of blood and have never felt so depleted.

Birth was nothing and everything like I anticipated. Floods of emotions and crystal clear thinking. Disappointment and the most miraculous joy. Feeling completely supported and intensely alone all at once. That I brought Elliot into this world in the dark on a bathroom floor while hurricane Ida stormed outside only to wake up hours later to a docile newborn and the most beautiful late summer, early fall day was not lost on me.

The days after birth were a whirlwind, grappling with the idea that I had changed my birth plans so severely but actually still ended up having the birth that I wanted was complicated and emotional. But I did not fail. Quite the opposite. I took on the hardest experience I’ve met yet and dug deep into my being to survive it. The universe had my back even if it didn’t feel like it sometimes. Expectations can be trouble and if I find myself preparing for birth again, I know what I’ll do differently. But for now, it’s time to enjoy newborn baby Elliot and all the love surrounding him.