My Natural Birth Story

There were a lot of things I didn’t know about giving birth as a first time mom, but there were a few things I knew for certain. I wanted a doula for extra support and education. I wanted the most physiological birth I could have, while still going to the hospital (I’ll be honest with you, I didn’t want to go to the hospital, but I felt that I had to since it was my first baby). That meant avoiding all medical interventions if possible. I also knew deep in my heart that I wasn’t going to show up to a planned induction date, as it was two days beyond my due date. I still think that is so crazy. In order to do that, I did everything in my power to get this baby to come out naturally before heading to the hospital. My partner, Kabeer (I am using “K” for short in this story), helped me get in touch with our amazing doula, Rosa, who provided us with birthing education and support throughout my pregnancy, through labor, and postpartum (shoutout to Rosa for her amazing postpartum work!!). I worked out until my body told me to slow down, and then I walked hills or flat, depending on the day. I stretched my hips day and night. I applied the perineum oil. I ate dates daily. I drank NORA tea twice daily. I did breath work at night and meditated. I tried to stay as relaxed as possible, to allow for my cervix to dilate naturally. I wanted to stay at home and labor for as long as I could before going to the hospital, to allow my body to progress on its own without a chance of medical intervention. I wrote a birth plan with K, so that he and the nurses knew what my preferences were, should I not be able to speak up in the moment. I did everything I could think of to get my body ready.

Two days before birth, I lost my mucus plug.

The night before I went into labor, we went for a gentle walk together with my mom who was in town to help. I went to bed relaxed, and had a full night of sleep. My due date was May 5th. It was May 1st.

Fast forward to about 7:40 am, May 2nd. We both woke up without an alarm, taking time to start our day together quietly in bed. I immediately felt my lower abdomen have mild cramps, like I was about to have diarrhea. I ignored it, thinking it would go away, as it did. But then, it came back. And it slowly got stronger, I would say every 5-7 minutes, the cramping feeling would come. As we were laying there, I finally spoke up to K, and told him that I was feeling crampy. He said “it’s happening!” Which, I didn’t fully believe. I guess I was in denial that I, a 39 week old pregnant woman, might give birth right now. 

I figured I might as well get up to get ready.  As soon as I got up to my knees in the bed, my water broke. On  the bed. Thankfully K ran to get a towel so that I could wrap myself up and make it to the bathroom.

No one tells you how much you feel like you’re going to poop and actually poop when you go into labor. I think I pooped three times that morning. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to shower, poop, or bathe. I rotated through the three of those. I started in the shower, moved to the toilet, and ended up in the warm tub that K had started for me with lavender epsom salts. Little did I know that that bath was going to accelerate things so quickly. I  tried to time my contractions, but the pain seemed to intensify so fast. I couldn’t even listen to K or my mom talk without wanting to scream. I was so sensitive to every light, every sound. I have a vivid memory of my cat standing in the doorway of the bathroom the entire time with her eyes wide open. It was really amazing to see her not leave my side, but also look so terrified for me at the same time.

 I was getting about a minute and a half of rest between each 45 second contraction. First, K called our doula, who was still at home feeding her kids their breakfast. She was planning to meet us at the house, assuming I would be in labor for a while, but we were running out of time. Second, we called the OBGYN on call. She told us that we should already have been at the hospital, and that we should leave now and she would meet us there. The one thing I did not expect for my first baby was to go into labor before my due date, AND have a quick labor. My plan to relax at home for as long as possible was not happening. I knew getting to the hospital would be an extremely uncomfortable experience. K quickly packed the car and helped me get dressed between contractions, and we left for the hospital. 

It was J’ouvert morning in St Thomas, which caused the doctor to take over an hour to arrive at the hospital, as much of waterfront drive was blocked. We had no problem getting to the hospital, since we live in the opposite direction, but every speed bump was agonizing. A five minute drive took us nearly twenty. I told K to pull up to the back of the hospital, where the ER entrance would be waiting with a wheelchair. We parked the car just as another contraction was about to happen, and the ER tech came to open my door with a wheelchair waiting. Bless his heart, as he tried to start a conversation by asking me how far along I was, peak contraction.

Do not try to have a conversation with a woman in the throes of labor. Just, don’t. 

We slowly got inside and up the elevator to the L & D unit, which was not only understaffed due to Carnival, but had no idea who I was, since hospital registration had not put me into the system that I registered for over two months ago. This is why we need to be electronic, people! Papers get lost and mistakes happen. I was an RN in this hospital, so I know first hand how chaotic and unorganized they can be. Great, so now I’m barely able to walk to the room, and they’re throwing questions at me trying to make me a medical file quickly. By the time I got to the bathroom to pee in a cup for them, I couldn’t pee. Only blood came out. I was quickly put on the bed and checked. 9cm dilated. Great, we’ll have a baby soon! But where was the doctor? No one was there besides one RN and one NP. I was shaking, trying to get into a comfortable position as the RN placed monitors and an IV for me. 

I consider myself to be pretty strong and tough, having grown up playing sports, working outside in all kinds of conditions for my biology degree, and doing lots of manual labor outside in the field for the USDA. There was nothing I could do to prepare for that level of pain I felt once we got to the hospital. 9cm dilated, my body was in the  transition stage of labor. On the positive side, I was technically almost done, but I also wanted to run away from my body. I knew I could only stop the pain once the baby came. I didn’t want to give up or give in. I knew I could make it, as I kneeled on the most uncomfortable bed surface I have ever felt, trying to breathe as each contraction peaked and allowed for rest. That brief moment, with less than a minute long to breathe easy, was all I had to try and catch my wind and reset for the next contraction. My voice was high pitched as each contraction peaked. I was holding a lot of tension up in the top of my throat. I was unable to escape from the pain in the moment, and felt exhausted and like giving up. I wanted to be done so badly. Looking back, people will tell you all kinds of things with how to guide your breathing during labor. Breathe deep, Breathe low, etc. Now how the hell am I supposed to know what that should look like when it feels like I’m being pounded by a freight train? Thankfully, the doctor, my doula, and the nurse coached my breath down low, as the high pitched yells went from my throat, down to my belly into a lower pitch. This was helping me a lot, I thought. 

Now came the pushing. I have no idea how long or how many pushes it took, but it really felt like I had to poop and that my butthole was ripping in half. Eventually, the doctor said that she could feel the baby’s head. This gave me hope, as I lay there on my back looking up at the hospital ceiling, K to my side, and my doula Rosa behind me. Then came the head, which she showed K as it crowned, and guided me with my hand to touch it. That gave me a euphoric feeling of excitement and relief. Oh my goodness, it’s almost over and my baby is almost here. I could see him getting ready to leave my body as my abdomen changed shape with each push. Now, pushing felt more like a painful relief, almost like ripping off a bandaid. Before I knew it, the doctor was telling me to reach down and grab my baby. My arms shook as I reached down and felt Tegh for the first time, his skin a deep pink and covered in vernix, letting out his first cries as I quickly lifted up my shirt to place him on my chest. I was immediately washed of the pain I was so consumed by less than a half an hour ago. I let out a huge sigh, and K rubbed my head. Our beautiful, healthy baby T was here at 11:20 am, May 2nd, 2024. We had about an hour to guide him to my breast to try and breastfeed - another feat that seems difficult in the beginning, yet becomes like second nature to both mama and baby so quickly. Unfortunately, with low staffing, his bedside exam had to be done in the nursery with the rest of the babies. I knew at that moment that I wanted to have my next baby at home, God willing. I didn’t want to be separated from my newborn for nearly an hour, and that is just what happened. Preparing for birth, we focused on how important that time right after birth is to allow for the baby to find mama’s milk, and T hadn’t found it yet by the time they had to take him away. That part still sticks with me and makes me feel emotional. He is healthy and fine, but it feels wrong to take babies away from their mother, their home for the last ten months and the rest of their life, so fast. 

I am so thankful for my nurses, doula, and OBGYN that day and night. They guided me, cheered me on, and assisted us in the most vulnerable moment of our lives this far. But man, I have a new feeling of sympathy for my patients. Those beds really suck. As a biology major and RN myself, it was entirely fascinating to hear my bowel sounds return and my intestines moving around again. Our bodies are so amazing. I could hardly use my core to sit up and out of bed, and my ass felt like it was on fire, but man, did I feel strong. 

We use so much time to prepare ourselves for the moment of giving birth, but so little for the moments after. In my opinion, we should be preparing for the “fourth trimester” (postpartum), just as much, if not more. We should be receiving pelvic floor physical therapy, postpartum massages, soaking in epsom salt baths, minimizing big movements (and NO stairs! Who let me do that??), and wearing supportive slippers. I didn’t know how much my feet on the ground connected to my pelvic floor until after I had a baby. We should be not only told not to push our bodies and to take care of ourselves, but given the resources on how. Accept all the help and nourishing meals from your friends and family. I am so thankful for my team. It really takes a village.