Maddy’s birth story

They say when labor is imminent, to rest while you can. But how can you rest when you’re anticipating the birth of your child?

The day before Maddy was born

On January 12, the alarm goes off at 4:30am. I am already wide awake, as I had been all night. I take a hot shower, put on my best sweats, and we finish packing up the car to head to the hospital where I have a scheduled induction at 6am.

A note about inducing labor...

Memphis was born 1 week and 4 days late, after a natural induction (which btw in my experience is 100x more painful than a medicated induction). He had meconium aspiration and was in the NICU for a few weeks. I hemorrhaged, and after tests that ruled out a bleeding disorder, my current OBGYN thinks that Memphis being so late was the cause. His whole delivery was long and traumatic and I was very anxious about delivering our daughter. In fact, it’s why I dragged my feet about whether or not to have a second child.

You can read Memphis’s birth story here.

Because of my risks, my doctor didn’t want me going past my due date. I was game for anything that would prevent another long hospital stay. I hoped I would go into labor on my own, but it didn’t happen. I’ve made peace with that.

Ok, back to the birth story.

We arrive at the hospital and check in by 6am. Apparently it’s a busy delivery day, because we don’t get into the room until 7:30am. I get my first dose of cervidil at 8am.

In the waiting room naively thinking we would meet our baby shortly

Cervidil helps ripen your cervix. I hoped to be further along since I had been having contractions for a few weeks, but I am only dilated to a 2. I am disappointed. Apparently I have a cervix made of steel.

Then, we wait. And wait. It’s agonizingly uneventful.

At 12pm the nurse checks me. She asks, “Are you feeling these contractions?” The answer is no. My back hurts, but that’s it. I am shocked when she says I have been contracting every 4 minutes.

At this point Kris has eaten a couple of meals and I am jealous. Maybe even a little bitter, even though I’m the one encouraging him to eat so he has energy. They won’t allow me any food or drink, only “ice chips” - which is just ice. They call them chips to trick you into thinking you’re eating something. I do have a shitty popcicle at 1pm, which feels like a gourmet meal.

Super cute shot from my birth photographer/doula/partner/co-parent

At 12:45pm, my doctor decides to start another dose of cervidil. My contractions are regular, but my cervix is stubborn and still only dilated to a 2. Wtf.

And then we wait. And wait. I rest. Kris naps, which I ask him to do. I need him to have energy to help us through what looks like a very long day.

At 5pm my doctor comes to check on me. She debates another round of cervidil since I’m only dilated to a 3, but decides that because my contractions are so regular and getting closer together to start Pitocin. Hooray for progress!

By 5:20pm, the contractions are getting intense. I tell Kris that I’m definitely in labor and ask him to come sit by me and hold my hand.

I know this feeling. The waves of pain slowly radiate. I ride them with my breath, pulling my mask down when the nurses aren’t in the room. THESE are contractions. The real deal.

Around 6pm, I request an epidural. I went through labor with Memphis until I dilated to a 10 (before I was transferred to the hospital) without an epidural and I am definitely team epidural now.

I’m still only dilated to a 3, which is discouraging. I thought my baby would be in my arms by now.

I squeeze Kris’s hand and breathe through the contractions. They are intense, yet manageable. But they are growing stronger and closer together.

I’m fortunate Kris could support me. In COVID times this isn’t a guarantee!

At 6:30pm, the epidural fairy gives me that sweet, sweet relief. I still feel the contractions but it’s not a pain, just an awareness. Which is honestly perfect. I like that I’m not COMPLETELY disconnected from my body.

Special delivery from the epidural fairy

Kris gets dinner (lucky punk), which I make him eat in the car and far, far away from me.

Side note: Kris did a lot more than eat lol. He’s a wonderful, supportive partner. I realize after reading this that I talk about him eating a lot. I was clearly very hungry. I said several times that day that I “just want some damn peanut butter crackers” (which I packed in the snack bag).

At 9:30pm, we both close our eyes and rest.

Here’s where things start to shift.

At 9:40pm, I am suddenly wide awake. And scared. Something feels different.

Is there something wrong with the epidural? Is the baby OK?

I am lightheaded and I feel a lot of pressure. The contractions are stronger. Something is off.

Nobody has checked me in several hours. As I said before, it’s a busy delivery day. I am progressing slowly, so the women who are actually pushing babies out need more attention than me.

I call the nurse and ask to be checked. I am trying to stay calm but honestly I’m scared.

At 9:43pm, which feels like an eternity since I called for help, the nurse checks me. “Well that’s why you feel that way. You’re complete.”

COMPLETE.

I am stunned. A wave of relief washes over me. Nothing is wrong. I feel pressure because she’s coming!!! After a long day of sloth-level slow progress, I went from a 3 to a 10 super quickly. My steel cervix finally caved.

Confession: I cheat. I’m not supposed to eat or drink, but I’m feeling really lightheaded and feel like I might pass out when it’s time to push. I whisper to Kris to let me drink his Propel when the nurse is gone. I take a few good gulps and feel like a new woman. I’ll be damned if the reason I get a C-section is because I was famished and couldn’t muster the energy to push.

The nurse calls my doctor, who comes as quickly as she can. Now we are having a fun waiting game, wondering if baby girl will be born today (the 12th), or wait until January 13th to share a birthday with her father.

We share this with the nurse, who says, “I can tell you right now she’s not waiting until tomorrow.”

Kris has been taking notes all day to document everything. In his notes, he writes:

“I’ve seen you in every facet of our lives, in various fits, and it’s hard to imagine you being more beautiful.”

He’s the sweetest.

At 11:05pm, my doctor arrives and swiftly suits up for delivery. The nurses already have everything prepped. Let’s goooo!!!!

The doctor shows Kris our baby’s hair, and we get even more excited. She’s coming she’s coming she’s coming!!!!

It’s time to push.

Then it’s a whirlwind.

“Ready, Momma?”

“Ready.”

At the next wave of contraction, I push.

“10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.”

I push two more times, what feels like 2 minutes, and then at 11:13pm I hear it. The sweetest song a mother will ever hear. My baby’s beautiful little cry as they place her perfect, slimy body on my chest.

Shout out to the nurse who grabbed my phone and not only snapped a few pics, but managed to do so without showing my private bits, all while still performing her actual nursing duties. Rockstar.

Kris cuts her cord and we are both in tears.

She’s here she’s here she’s here!!! She’s ... absolutely perfect.

Everything else happening at this point is background noise. I hear my doctor say that I am losing a lot of blood. She tells the nurse to give me more Pitocin to speed up uterine contractions, gives me some other medication, I’m only half listening, and starts stitching. 

I have second degree tears, which is a bummer, but let me tell you: there’s a huge difference between second and third degree tears, which I had with Memphis. The stitches don’t scare me.

I’m a little scared about the blood. Hemorrhaging again is one of my biggest fears. But at the moment I’m in awe of my beautiful baby girl who is snuggled up in the arms of my loving partner, and that stress is on the back burner.

Fortunately, my doctor knows my risks and fears and acts accordingly. I don’t hemorrhage, and I just need some iron supplements to combat the blood loss. Another huge win!

Around 2am, we are moved to the recovery room. The epidural hasn’t completely worn off, so I feel like a baby deer trying to walk the two steps from the wheelchair to the hospital bed, even with a nurse on each arm. But in a few short hours, I’m able to walk to the bathroom with a nurse’s assistance. By the next day, I can walk alone.

A long day of waiting ended with Madelyn Arya’s fast, wonderfully non-traumatic entrance into the world.

It was such a beautiful and redemptive experience. I keep telling Kris that I can’t believe how easy it was, which I know is just because my only comparison is when Memphis was born — the most challenging day of my life. It feels like she delivered herself. We make an excellent team.

Even now as I type this, 10 days postpartum, I am incredibly grateful to be home, healthy, and with my two healthy babies. I’ve cried many happy tears as I look at the sweet faces of my children. We are complete.

During such a dark period, Maddy is the light our family needed. Welcome home, sweet baby.

Peep big brother Memphis’s sweet little hand