Joselyn’s Birth Story (Written to Her Daughter)

Dear Sweet Allison, 

It’s time for me to tell you about your birth. One day the memories and details will be fuzzy in my mind.  I know that as the weeks go by and you grow bigger the feelings and emotions are already getting further away. Birth is funny like that. A mother forgets all the hard, all the grit, all the intensity as she stares everyday into the beautiful face of the child she created. I don’t want to forget it because one day I want you to know how generations before you did the most feminine thing in the world, bringing life from within them to the outside. Maybe one day you’ll need to hear this story as encouragement for your own birthing. 

The weeks leading up to your birth were full of activity. You were due on July 21st, the dead center of summer. I didn’t want your older sisters to miss out on the summer activities we love because of my big pregnant belly or because of your arrival. I knew once you made your appearance on the outside that I would need to rest and settle in. So I filled our days with trips to the pool, the park, a baseball game… The tight skin stretched across my stomach was golden brown from days spent in the sun. My hips ached, my pelvis felt like it could not possibly hold anymore weight. I am an advocate for allowing my body to do what it needs to do in the time that it needs to do it, but I was physically in a place that was more uncomfortable than both of my previous pregnancies. It was a very hard place to be; knowing that time was needed but I also was so ready to be done. I told Cypress, my doula and friend, that I would accept any way that was not invasive to encourage you to come sooner rather than later. I know most pregnant women feel this way at the end, and I was also so frustrated with myself that I was feeling that way. 

Cypress is a chiropractor and does acupuncture, and I had her doing acupuncture anytime she was available to. Your older sisters at first were unsure and uncomfortable with their mother being stuck like a pin cushion with needles in the living room. By the third time they were used to the strange scene and would sit and snuggle with me while the needles did their thing. But it wasn’t until the day after my due date that any sign of you deciding to come was made obvious. Cypress had come the day before on my due date for acupuncture but I hadn’t felt even a twinge. I spent the day on Friday deep cleaning the house. I mopped and scrubbed, picked up every item of clutter, and cleaned out a closet. I made a playlist titled “Bad Bitch” just for the occasion. Forgive my profanity daughter, it’ll come up again later. I worked to the soundtrack of Lizzo and the Dixie Chicks. My music choices were all over the place, taking me from my high school country anthems to the Red Hot Chili Peppers. 

That evening my friend and her family came over with dinner for us. Ms. Leeann said “I know you are supposed to bring food AFTER the baby comes but I know you don’t want to cook right now.”  She wasn’t wrong. The friends were a great distraction from my discomfort. We ate and laughed, their older boys played with your big sisters and Dad made jokes. 

Our dog Gus was acting very strangely. He was timid, and sometimes his hair stood on end. When I was sitting on the couch the boys came to pet him and he snapped at them. It was so unusual, Gus is always soft and timid. My friend remarked that he knew I was in labor. In fact I was having a few contractions, but they were nothing remarkable. I couldn’t time them nor did I feel like I really needed to pay attention to them. I laughed the comment off. 

That night in bed I woke up a few times with more intense contractions, but they would go away as soon as I was awake enough to realize what I was feeling. When I woke up in the morning I knew that I could not sit around the house waiting for real labor to begin. We had made previous plans to meet a family at The Magic House. It felt crazy to be going to such an active chaotic place so, so, so pregnant (I was now two days past my due date), but it was also exactly the distraction I needed. We spent the morning chasing kids through climbing structures, doing science experiments, coloring and painting. I definitely had more surges but I was busy and able to ignore them. At one point the father of the family we met asked me when I was due. I told him “Last Thursday, but I think I may have a baby today.” He was taken aback at my nonchalant response and attitude to the fact that I was perhaps actually laboring right then. 

We got home and I took the best nap. I laid in my bed and slept so well, right in the middle of the afternoon. Your dad put your sisters to sleep for their own rest. The house was quiet. I remember being so grateful that I had the soft sheets on the bed. Every texture on my skin felt amplified. I remember the sun shining through the blinds, and listening to my Christian Hypnobirthing app. The voice took me through bible verses and guided meditations based on what God intended for labor. I felt relaxed, safe, and at ease. I also did not think I was truly “in labor.” I knew but I didn’t know. The thought crossed my mind that perhaps I should call my mom, but I felt like if I did it would all go away. 

I woke up and it was time to start thinking about feeding your sisters dinner. I sent your dad to get takeout; cooking didn’t seem appealing. When he came back Cypress was over again to do acupuncture. I kept telling her this didn’t feel like the day. She didn’t really respond either way. After eating with us she left to take a shower and feed her cats. I didn’t eat a lot as nothing was appetizing. During dinner I had more surges but I was able to keep mothering your sisters. I decided after dinner your sisters needed a bath. Your dad offered to do it, but I wouldn’t let him. At this point he decided to call his mom and ask if he could take the big girls there to sleep. I was upset about this and still in denial. I wanted them home with me, there was no point in them staying away if you weren’t going to come. In my mind you were nowhere near ready, I had one more night and at least one more day. 

After I bathed your sisters, stopping several times to get through a contraction, your dad took them to Grandma’s. I kissed them goodbye and got emotional. I felt silly and also like maybe this COULD really be happening. The inner dialogue in my brain was so back and forth. “This was happening. No, I would be pregnant forever. You were coming. You were staying inside for another week.” I asked your dad to call my mom, your Nanna, and let her know things were happening.

While your dad was gone I decided to make you a birthday cake. I had read a birth story where the mother did this to distract herself in labor and then when her baby was born they sang happy birthday. 

It truly was a great distraction and I was also still in denial. Thankfully I had purchased the ingredients that week just in case. I chose to make you a lemon raspberry cake with lemon buttercream frosting. If you have become a baker sweet girl you know that this is a bit more complicated than a cake mix in the box off the grocery shelf. Of course it is, because your mama does not do things halfway. Your dad came home to find me in the kitchen mixing ingredients and zesting lemons, and then dropping to my hands and knees with a surge. Cypress came back shortly after. They laughed and shook their heads at me, incredulous that I chose to make such a complex cake while working through such a difficult thing as labor. Cypress helped to make sure I didn’t miss an ingredient and squeezed my hips when I would drop to the floor. Your dad packed up his bag for the hospital. 

Your dad was also timing my surges. The app he was using kept telling him it was time to go to the hospital. I laughed and ignored him. I was going nowhere until your cake was done. I got it in the oven and then disappeared away from Cypress and him. I went to the bathroom and when I wiped I noticed I had lost my mucus plug. Perhaps I would have you in my arms the next day, but definitely not that night. Denial was a major theme here, sweet girl. 

After I went to the bathroom I went to lay on the bed. I thought maybe I would lay down and listen to my Christan Hypnobirthing again but realized I needed something more upbeat. I requested that Bad Bitch playlist I had made the day before.  Your dad blasted it through the speakers in our home. I buried my head in pillows and dozed until a contraction would hit again. They were coming every two to three minutes. When they started I would get onto my hands and knees on the bed and moan low while I rocked back and forth. At one point Cypress appeared in the room. She squeezed my hips and rocked with me. 

Your dad came in. In between more Lizzo and Shania Twain he told me the cake was finished baking and it was time to go. I told him “No, this hasn’t been hard enough for long enough.” Cypress disagreed, it was time to go. I requested that they call the midwives and make sure they agreed it was time. Your dad got the midwife on call on the phone. She listened to me have a contraction. I couldn’t get through a sentence. She said to come. She also told your dad that we could not use the birthing center rooms. We live in a weird time Allison, where everyone is short staffed and hospitals are funky. Because of this we would have to deliver you upstairs on the labor and delivery floor. I did not like this news, and told your dad “no thank you, I would please just deliver my baby in our shower.” At this point he practically carried me to the car. 

Off we went. I blasted Lizzo in the car the whole way there. My surges at this point were very, very intense. Perhaps you were actually coming, who would have thought? Your dad was mildly concerned I may have you right there on his car seat. I would have laughed at that. I made him park as far away as possible from the hospital door, convinced that this wasn’t actually happening and walking would help you come. It was a very slow, long walk. You dad may have been slightly frustrated, but I didn’t notice or care. 

We got to the hospital and I was immediately annoyed. When I had your sister Jane I simply walked right into the birthing center and had a baby. Going upstairs was a process. Nurses asked me questions that would have been hard had I not been in the throes of labor. I ignored them and let your father answer, and Cypress kept on squeezing my hips. I was on my hands and knees right there in the lobby.

Finally a nurse came down to guide us upstairs. Before we made it to the elevator I told her I was going to vomit. We made a detour to a bathroom where I kneeled in front of the toilet for a while. No vomit actually came much to my surprise. I had puked while birthing both your sisters. The last few steps to the room seemed like a mile. I told the nurse I needed the tub immediately. I just knew if I got into water I would have you in my arms in mere minutes. 

While I waited for the tub to fill the poor nurse tried to take your heartbeat. I wasn’t exceptionally kind to her. It turns out that when I’m laboring I prefer to be just left alone. This woman I deemed “in my way” and a side of me that is usually reserved for “thoughts that are thought but not spoken” came unleashed. 

After what seemed like another eternity the tub was ready for me and I took off my shorts to get in. I sunk in up to my chest and exhaled. The surges were still coming but at least in the water I was buoyant. Literally lighter. 

There was a big window behind the tub and the light of the moon came through. The lights in the tub gently changed color. I no longer had the capacity for Lizzo, and requested the hypnobirthing. This calmed me down for a while and  I listened to scriptures wash over me. Sometimes I was alone, sometimes Cypress was in front of me. I may have been in there for hours, but truly it was only minutes.

The surges were getting more and more intense, even painful. The water was way too hot. I started to panic. I started to get angry. You weren’t coming out.  I began to beg you to get out of me. I used expletives that I again usually reserve for my thoughts only. I was mad. I wanted this to be over. It was so hard so fast. I could no longer hear the Christian Hypnobirthing App. I was scream begging at you, saying “I would like you to get the F*** out of me, PLEASE!” So while I was using language I would never actually say TO you now with your sweet face in front of me, I did while you were finding your way out of my belly. At least I was polite with it sweet girl. I was a little mad at myself that I couldn’t birth like the women in the videos I have watched that gracefully exhale and catch their own babies in water so peacefully. I was puzzled that you were still inside when before with your sister the water was the catalyst of her birth. Where the heck where you??

The midwife came in. I told her the water was too hot. She simply turned on the cold water faucet and I put my body directly under it. I remember the smooth crisp feeling and then the next surge hit. It was too much. I told her I wanted to go home. You weren’t coming, it wasn’t time, and I was leaving. 

Your dad came into the bathroom. I told him to pack my bag, we were leaving. He had the audacity to laugh. The midwife suggested that I let her check me so we could make a more informed decision. I agreed, and started begging for the epidural. My stomach was fire. The pressure was truly indescribable. I was nine and a half centimeters. The midwife casually said I could push if it felt right. Before she could finish her sentence I understood in my own brain that “the only way out was through.” I had no time for an epidural. No one was going to save me from this moment except myself, and Jesus. And apparently nitrous oxide. I had been begging for an epidural sweet sister and while in distress I agreed to try the laughing gas. I even signed a paper agreeing to it with my eyes completely shut. 

I was handed a mask that fit over my face and I took the biggest breath. I could feel my brain calm down. I could feel the edge being taken off the intensity I was feeling. I could push and I did. As I did I felt a pop and your water spilled out of me onto the bed. My eyes were squeezed shut.

I roared you out. I clutched the mask. I could feel your head coming out of me. After another push the midwife asked Dad if he wanted to catch you. He said yes and moved behind me. I was on my hands and knees with one foot planted on the bed. Then your dad came back up by my head. I was overwhelmed. My eyes were closed and when they opened it was like snap shots of real life. A nurse caught my gaze. “You can do this, a few more pushes and you are done.” I pushed twice more. I felt like my pelvis was splitting. I could feel your body arching out of me. And then it was done. The nurse who had promised me I was almost done whispered into my ear to lean into her, to lay back. At first I couldn’t, my body felt paralyzed. Moving was not an option. I heard you cry and then I suddenly could move again. I lay into her chest and she guided my body onto the bed. That embrace felt so comforting. I didn’t know I needed it. 

You were placed on my chest. You were wet and wrinkly and purple. They told me you were bruised because of how quickly you came which baffled me. “Quickly” was not an adjective I would have used but in actuality it was only four or five pushes. With my eyes opened I noticed a man in our room I didn’t recall having come in. Apparently he was from the NICU and was introduced to me; he was called because your water had meconium in it. I immediately asked him to get out. This was another moment that had I been in a normal situation I would have done so with more tact. I apparently have no tact while birthing. I don’t regret it.  I didn’t want a strange male in our space as I lay with you on my chest and everything exposed. 

The midwife examined me and you. I apparently had a gush of blood that was concerning and she asked me to please push out our placenta. I told her no thank you. She insisted. I was given a shot in the thigh of pitocin to help. I obliged and pushed it out. Then I felt really done. Our work was over. I asked to look at the placenta. It’s neat, but I didn’t feel like I had to keep it for anything.

I was cleaned up, I required no stitches. Thank you for that, by the way.  You are my only daughter that didn’t rip me open. You were wrapped onto my chest with warm blankets. The shakes came. I couldn’t stop my right leg from convulsing. The bed was broken and I could not raise the back up to support us. A nurse put an entire birthing peanut ball behind us in a makeshift prop. It was not comfortable. My tailbone throbbed. 

Your dad lay down to sleep on the small plastic couch next to the bed, like he worked hard or something. You were born at 12:44 AM so we were all right. You were born the next morning, but also in the middle of the night. I nursed you. I felt confident in my abilities to nourish you. You latched right away but it was pinchy. Cypress hugged us goodbye and went home to sleep.

At some point I was ready to get up and put on clothes. Your dad was asleep and I had to wake him up by shouting. He held you while I made my way to the bathroom. I grabbed my clothes on my way. 

Shortly after we were asked if we would like to go home. The bed felt horrible with the peanut ball behind me and I could only think of my own bed at home. Your dad agreed, it was time to go. 

We left the hospital at 5:30 AM. On the way home I looked up restaurants that were open. I was ravenous. It felt like I had never eaten before in my life. We stopped at Ginghams, a local dinner. I had called ahead and ordered a breakfast skillet, a side of bacon, four sausages wrapped in pancakes… Your dad only had one meal. I ate both of mine in bed with you snuggled on my chest. 

I slept the rest of the morning. I wanted your sisters to come home as soon as possible. I got up to shower around 10 AM. My mom and dad, your Nanna and Papa, came. I so love watching them fall in love with you. Grandma Paula and Grandpa Jim came shortly after. They brought your sisters. 

Watching THEM fall in love with you was one of my favorite moments as a mama. My heart truly burst open from growing so big so quickly. They kissed you and snuggled you. They oohed and awed at you. 

Grandma Paula and Grandpa Jim left and I remembered the cake! I did not have time to make the icing while I labored with you. I requested that Nanna make it so we could sing to you before she left. She obliged and your sisters helped and then helped to ice it. 

We put a 0 candle on the cake and sang to you. This made me so happy. I’ll remember it forever. The cake was so delicious. Even just thinking of it now I can taste the sweet buttery lemon. I hope you’ll get a real taste of it one day.

Your sisters went home with Nanna and Papa and your dad and I continued to lay in bed and rest. Cypress came back to check on us that evening, and gave you your first chiropractic adjustment. She told us that you had decided to come out with the chord around your neck and your hand by your face, which had contributed to your bruised face. This was also why your dad did not catch you, as the midwife had to unwind you as you descended. It was not an emergency. Remember this in your life baby, sometimes things are presented as hard or not normal but with the right guidance and care they are simply a variation of normal. 

This was the beginning of our postpartum time, Sis. It was beautiful. I worked so hard while you were in my tummy to create the most relaxed, supported time. 

I mostly laid in bed with you for the first few days. We slept a lot. One morning I woke up before the rest of the house because I was again ravenous and ate more birthday cake with you at 5:30 in the morning. I’ll always remember that too. The quiet house, the sugar on my lips, you in my arms. 

Your sisters call you Sugar Bear. Your dad calls you Allie Lu. I call you Allison. You were named after your great aunt who only spent a few hours on this earth. I like to think of her in heaven, held in the arms of Jesus and smiling at us. 

I love you. I’m typing this now with you strapped to my chest. I smell your sweet soft head. The only head that has come out of my body with hair on it. Ha, congratulations on that too! You fit right into this family. A family of sisters, a family who loves Jesus. I hope you read this and know that you are strong and capable. I hope you read this and understand that while I didn’t birth you calmly and peacefully in the bathtub with a soft exhale, roaring you out has solidified in my mind that THIS is our true feminine power and calling. Motherhood is messy and hard. But it’s also really really beautiful. The only way out is through, but “through” is so amazing. 

Allison our world today is a lot. You were born into a very divisive time and the world is swimming in opinions and arguments and nastiness. But it’s also really beautiful. Most people are good and kind. God’s creation is beautiful and powerful and man can be good and man can be bad. I promise you I won’t necessarily shelter you from it but I will teach you to think for yourself, to find true faith in God, and be prepared to be the amazing woman I know you will become. I’m already proud of you. I love you I love you I love you.