"When a woman is giving birth, she has sorrow because her hour has come, but when she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world. " John 16:21
The days leading up to the birth of my son, I was asked “Are you ready?” quite often. Was I ready? Well, I had taken birth classes. I learned labor coping techniques. I listened to positive birth stories. I worked out, stretched, ate healthy. I truly was unafraid and really just didn’t know what to expect. I felt ready. But how can you know you’re ready for such a thing as unmedicated childbirth? Then again, when the time comes, you really have no choice but to be ready.
What I wasn’t ready for was going into labor at 39 weeks. I thought for sure I would at least go to 40 weeks, if not longer, and had been mentally preparing myself to be in it for the long haul. The Saturday before I went into labor, I bought ingredients for freezer meals and snacks with a plan to make them Monday. I was gonna make some meals, finish up a few other baby related things and settle down and enjoy the last week to three weeks of my pregnancy. Even the day before I went into labor, I did not feel like my body was about to go into labor. I hadn’t knowingly felt Braxton Hicks, I had no idea if I was dilated or effaced. I felt totally normal.
That is- until I woke up to go to the bathroom at 4:40 a.m, Monday the 27th. As I crawled back into bed I thought for sure I was constipated. Gross, I know. But then I realized that the pain would come and go, and it felt more like period pain that also penetrated into my back. I grabbed my phone to download an app that would time the length and distance apart of the contractions- but I couldn’t download it because I forgot my apple ID password. Classic Solie. Then, I tried my husband Andre’s phone, and couldn’t get into his either, so I woke him up, which I was hoping I wouldn’t have to do. He was very confused of course, but once I told him I needed to time the contractions, he got excited and took to timing them for me. Early labor is a time of a little bit of pain, and a whole lot of excitement. We stayed in bed until late morning timing contractions and talking.
The contractions were about 30-40 seconds long, averaging 7-10 minutes apart, and slowly growing in intensity. After hours of timing them, we contacted the midwife on call for the day, Michaela, and she told us that it sounded like early labor! We were to tell her when the contractions were 4-5 minutes apart, and lasting a minute or longer.
By early afternoon, I crashed. I napped for a few hours, woken up at first every 15 or so minutes by a contraction, then they spaced themselves out much further, sometimes being 40 minutes apart. Yet, they were increasing in intensity and many were lasting over a minute. Andre contacted Michaela to update her on my situation, and she said that it sounded like I wasn’t in early labor, that what I was experiencing could go on for days and even stop altogether and I should go on with my day as normal. Most people would be discouraged, but something in me knew that these contractions were leading up to my labor, that even if it wasn’t today, it would be in the next few days. I was at least certain that the contractions were making a difference.
Throughout the day, Andre had taken me on four 10 minute walks. By the last one, in the evening, my contractions were back to being much closer together, and I had to stop and hold on to Andre through three or four contractions. Andre contacted Michaela again, and although she doubted I was in early labor, she agreed to come by our home to check me.
Michaela and the student midwife, Alaijah, came to our home around 8:30 p.m and checked on me and baby. I was almost 100% effaced, but only 2-3 centimeters dilated. We were told to not be surprised if they taper off and become inconsistent, and to contact her when they became 3-4 minutes apart, and lasting over a minute. Once again, most people would be disappointed, but I was satisfied knowing that I was in the early stages of labor, and that my contractions were making a difference. And even if they tapered off, I could get some rest before they would only get worse.
We decided to stop by my parents house. By the time we arrived (they only live a mile away), my contractions were very consistent and strong (they had been very strong since the afternoon, and were only growing more intense) and almost all of them were over a minute. My parents couldn’t believe I was not at the birth center. My mom has given birth seven times, and likewise, my dad has been with my mother through all seven of her labors and deliveries- they know what real labor looks like. They said they would have gone down to the hospital at that point. My dad started timing the contractions (now averaging 3 minutes apart over a minute long) with Andre. I remember how comforting my dad was telling me to relax and to remember to breathe. He’s an old timer.
Andre took me on another, very painful walk. We told my mom and sisters to be ready, and that we would see them in a few hours- we all knew it wouldn’t be long till I headed to the birth center.
We went back to our apartment- for all of ten minutes. I broke down crying from the pain of a contraction, and as I suffered through that, Andre decided enough was enough. He called the midwife and said “It’s time.” She was hesitant because I was maybe at three centimeters when they checked me only a little over an hour ago. They want you to come in when you’re in active labor, which is considered 6 centimeters dilated. But my contractions were intense, strong, long, and close together.
One thing I remember and loved is that it was raining.
We arrived at the birth and Alaijah checked me. I was four centimeters dilated, 100% effaced, and as she pulled her hand out, a gush of water came with it- my water broke! I thought that was a good thing, and while the midwife was happy that I had progressed to a four in such a short amount of time, because I was only at a four, they were concerned that it would take a long time for me to progress. I was GBS positive (Group B streptococcus is a bacteria in the body that can cause harm to babies in swallowed during labor, or as they exit the birth canal) and declining antibiotics, and I wanted a water birth- being in the water and having GBS especially when the water has been broken for over 18 hours can greatly increase risk of infection.
I labored for a while more, and I was far from the “laughing and relaxing between contractions” part of labor. I told Andre I wanted to get in the water. Andre didn’t want me to get in the water (nor did the midwives who were out in the other room) because of the increased risk of infection, and because I was so far away from actually giving birth, that I would have been cold or it could slow things down. I cried. I needed some relief so badly, and water felt like my only option at that point (medication is not offered at the birth center). Andre went to discuss with the midwives what I could do, and from the room I could hear the midwife say that my contractions needed to become much stronger. I cried again. I could not believe the contractions could get worse. Six whole centimeters worse. I couldn’t fathom how that was possible.
They came into the room to discuss with me as well, and were very concerned that I wasn’t getting antibiotics. I honestly would have if it wasn’t for Andre. I asked him if he was positive about declining antibiotics, through tears. He was sure. At this moment, I knew I needed to trust my husband. It had freaked me out that I could be putting my baby at risk. But, Andre had done the research. He had prayed. I knew his decision wasn’t rash, wasn’t without wisdom, and that he was being guided by the Holy Spirit. I remember thinking, “Okay God, I trust You know what’s best.” That put me at peace. The midwives trusted Andre’s judgment as well. They never forced anything on us or pressured us into taking or doing anything we felt uncomfortable with. I would be able to get in the tub, but I was to wait until I was further along in labor.
At some point, I threw up my dinner, and was told that that meant my hormones were changing.
It wasn’t much longer until I felt the urge to bear down- aka push. The midwife said to go with the urges. Does this mean I'm close to the end? I must be in or near transition, right? Here’s how the stages of labor work: early labor is the longest, but easiest stage; active labor is shorter and more intense (considered when the woman is 5 or 6 cm dilated- 7 cm), and transition, the hardest, yet shortest part of labor (from 7-10 cm dilation).
The midwives drew the bath for me and I was finally able to get in at almost 2 a.m. Andre decided it was a good time to contact my sisters (plus his sister) and mother and have them come.
Quite frankly, I couldn’t tell you if the water provided any relief. Perhaps in between the contractions, I was able to relax more, but from what I recollect (although things start getting hazy at this point) the water didn’t make the contractions any better.
When my family arrived, I barely knew. I do remember trying to tell Andre to warn them I was bare naked, when he said they were going to arrive soon, but I didn’t have the energy to say it loud enough for him to hear. They silently entered the room as I had a contraction. Almost immediately, my mother came to my aid. She sat behind me, and Andre sat beside me as I labored in the tub, and I held one of her arms and one of his arms. Andre made sure I stayed hydrated, and my mother kept me cool with a damp rag to my forehead.
My mother was so incredible and helpful as soon as she arrived.
Michaela came to check me a little after 2 a.m- and gave some good and bad news. The good news: I was 10 cm dilated! The bad news: I had an anterior lip. Basically, a part of my cervix was in the way of the baby’s head being able to come down. One of the worst things a laboring woman can hear is “don’t push” when she has the urge to. This is what I was to do as the midwife reached her hand up my cervix and attempted to move the baby’s head around the cervix. I tilted my head back and “blew out birthday candles”. I don’t know if she did it through two contractions, or through just one that felt like it lasted a lifetime. It was the most excruciating pain I had ever felt in my life. “Okay, that didn’t work. I’ll have to try again.” She waited a bit before trying again. I know the pain of natural childbirth will soon become a distant memory. But man. Oh man. It’s rough. And this was one of the worst moments of it all. When she tried again, the anterior lip was gone. I was so grateful! We were going to meet our baby so, so soon…. or so I thought.
Spoiler alert- I had two more hours of pushing to go. If I had known this, I likely would have lost my mind. Maybe I would've had a breakdown. Passed out. Begged them to take me to the hospital. But I didn’t know, thank God!
The midwife had me try another position in the tub, before deciding I needed to get out and try other pushing positions. I had labored in the tub for close to an hour.
This is the point in which things start to get blurry. Already, I was exhausted, fatigued, and feeling totally out of it between contractions. So, I don’t remember much of the next hour, except trying very hard to push a baby out.
I was led to the toilet and tried pushing there. The toilet was my arch nemesis. Even when I was laboring at home, every time I would sit to go to the bathroom I would have a contraction. For whatever reason, laboring on the toilet was so uncomfortable and painful.
Then they had me go to the bed. We tried all sorts of positions- on my hands and knees, kneeling, leaning over the birth ball. They had me on my back for quite some time, around 15 minutes which I remember feeling the best, if that’s even possible. Nothing was working. I was pushing with all my might, going off of hardly any energy, and this baby was not coming out.
The one time I held Hannah's hand during it all. I didn't see her when she came over, but I knew it was her.
I do not remember this moment at all haha!
I was in another world, so when two other midwives, one I knew, Jessica, and another midwife (whom I later found out was a student and whose name I don't know) who I had never seen before in my life showed up, I didn't quite understand that they were there for me. For some reason, I thought there was another mom coming in who would labor in the second birth center room. I remember hoping that my sounds didn’t terrify the incoming mother.
I was back to laboring on the toilet when Jessica came and checked the baby’s heartbeat. She listened for all of five seconds, and said, “Call 911.” Ummmmm what?
The baby needed to come now. His heartbeat was decelerating. I needed a C-section, which could, of course, not be performed in the birth center. One of the fears was that his cord might have been around his neck. They put me on oxygen and had me move to the bed. Was I panicking? No. For one, despite the seriousness, the midwives were all pretty calm. My thought process was, I don’t care if they take me to the hospital as long as they give me pain relief as quickly as possible. Andre asked if we could try pushing in another position. Jessica said no. But then, I had a contraction, and as I did, the baby’s head crowned.
The ambulance had come and had no idea! I didn't even know that the EMT's had come inside until after they left. I was in another world!
“If you’re having it, let’s do it.” She let me push! During the next contractions, everyone was cheering me on. “Push hard, hard, hard. Come on Solie, you got this! Your baby needs you. Don’t breathe out! Hold it! Hold it! Keep him right there, don’t let him go back in!” I pushed with all of my might. I was so exhausted. At this point, the contractions were almost on top of each other. It was hard to tell when one stopped and another started. I was so tired, and the baby wasn’t coming. He would crown and go back in. I felt like I didn’t have the strength to push him all the way out. I could feel his head peeping and and thought, No way that head can fit through there. No way I can push him out. I remember begging God to let this be the one. Jesus, please. Please. I was desperate.
They moved me into a couple other positions on the bed. No luck. After 10 minutes.
They cut me to help him come out. All I remember of that is her saying, “Okay, Solie, I’m going to give you a little cut to help your baby come.” (If you’re scared of an episiotomy, just know that whatever pain you are experiencing makes a lil’ cut feel like nothing.)
Andre holding me up.
They had Andre sit in a chair and hold me up while I squatted. Maybe gravity would help. Three contractions, and nothing.
“Okay, we’re going to give her two more contractions and then we’re leaving.” If he didn’t come within the next two contractions, we were going to the hospital. The situation was very serious. My baby needed to come out, and I couldn’t push him out. One contraction, squatting. Nothing.
For the final contraction, they moved me to the bed, laying on my right side. Please, please, please, I begged God. If the baby didn’t come out with this push, I would feel so defeated. I couldn’t do this any longer.
I took as deep of a breath as I could, as the contraction washed over me. Chin to my chest. Deep groaning. And with that final push, out came a little head.
My baby was here! At 3:59 a.m. I gave birth to the most precious little babe with a head full of black hair, dimples, and his daddy's nose. I thought for sure that I would cry when he came. But I was so out of it, delirious, fatigued, in pain, shocked, yet relieved that he was here, that tears didn’t come. I mostly remember saying Andre’s name over and over again. I felt like I was in another world. I could finally breathe. And my baby was laying on top of me! How was this real life?
The face of a girl trying to figure out how this is real life.
One of my favorite pictures. Andre was so amazing during all of this!
Shout out to all the people that randomly shoved liquidation into my mouth during labor.
Mama comin' in clutch with that rag
After about ten minutes, Andre cut the cord and baby was free! Andre also got to weigh him- he came in at 6lbs 4oz, 21 ½ inches long. Miraculously, I didn’t need stitches for my episiotomy as the cut was really only skin deep, and similar to a first degree tear- the midwives were so shocked as well! I ate a popsicle and a cookie. Someone had turned on worship music which was lovely. I was so glad to have my mom and sisters all around me for this moment.
Skin to skin time with Daddy!
I felt soooo much better, but could barely keep my eyes open. If you zoom in on the picture, you may be able to see my red splotchy face, from blood vessels in my skin breaking out- thanks for that Pushing!
Our precious, scrawny lil' peanut! We didn't name him until two days later.
By 6:30 a.m., we were out of there to go sleep in our own beds at home!
All of the girls, minus my 13 year old sister who was "so tired" and trying to leave already.
My birth team was so amazing. Despite the stressful situation that occurred at the end, everyone remained so calm. None of my family freaked out. Jessica said she was impressed with how willing I was to keep trying and moving into different pushing positions, and with how calm Andre remained as a first time dad. Andre was the main one advocating for me throughout, when I was in too much pain to think for myself, and especially at the end, rather than panicking and immediately helping transfer me to the ambulance, he suggested I try pushing at the birth center just a little longer. He was, of course, willing to go to the hospital, but the baby was right there, and he believed I could do it. In the moment, I didn't care what happened, as long as the baby came out , but now I am so glad that we spent those few extra minutes trying at the birth center.
I am just going to be honest and say that I am not the poster child for a peaceful delivery. I didn’t have music. No essential oils, candles, affirmations, focal points. No mental images to escape. The water wasn’t a breath of fresh air, breathing deep and slow, and not hyperventilating was insanely difficult, and I failed more than once. I had a cute little nightgown that I had planned on wearing. I thought I would need my socks if my feet got cold. Maybe I would want one of my sisters to give me a nice, soothing massage. Nah. I really couldn’t focus on anything other than making it through the pain. All that other stuff would not have made for a more peaceful experience for me.
The amount of times I felt completely out of control, totally weak, and said “I can’t...” I really, truly did not feel like I could. Andre was so amazing at reminding me that it was God giving me the strength to endure.
I remember saying right after giving birth, “I don’t know- when women say ‘I felt so empowered after that’- y’all I do not feel empowered after that! I only got through that because of Jesus. I literally felt so weak. I did not have that strength.”
It was hard, but it was never scary for me. I would definitely do it again (and I’m banking on the next one to be less difficult)! I already miss being pregnant. It is such a blessing to carry a baby and bring him into the world. It’s worth every second of pain.
With love,
Solie Osorio
Let's talk about it: What was your birth like? Do you plan on having an unmedicated birth? Comment below- I would love to know!
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