Sometime in July, I looked at Jonathan and told him that I had August 3rd stuck in my head and I wasn’t very sure why. So, I can’t say that I was too surprised when I woke up around 12:30 am on August 3 to find out that my water had broken. I woke up to go to the bathroom, just as I had woken up almost every night around that time, only this time I discovered that my underwear was damp. I went to the bathroom and had the tell tale “gush”, but didn’t quite believe that my water had broken to kick off labor - again! Two labors starting in the exact same way… it didn't seem quite real. I put on a pad and got back in bed to see if contractions would start. I didn’t want to wake Jonathan up quite yet, so I laid there in silence trying to process what was about to happen. I got up again and felt another small gush and really knew that, even though I had hoped it wasn’t going to happen again in this manner, labor was starting.
I started to time my contractions around 1 am. They were totally manageable and less than a minute long and about five minutes apart, give or take. I texted our doula, Val, around 1:20 am to see if she just happened to be awake. No response. I finally woke Jonathan up to let him know what was happening right around 1:30 am. We decided to call the midwife on call to see what she had to say. I called around 1:40 and she told me to try to sleep and to call when the contractions were more intense and more regular. She warned me that it could be hours and that my best course of action was to rest right now. Right after we made that call, we decided that we should call our parents - mine so that they could decide when they wanted to drive out to us, and his so that we could have someone come sit with Nate so that we could just leave for the hospital when the time was right without having to worry about dropping him off anywhere. It was a Sunday, so Jonathan’s dad had to serve liturgy, so just his mom came out to care for Nate. Once that was all set in motion, I called Val to let her know what was happening. She gave me similar advice - to relax and try to get as much rest as possible and to keep her posted.
I tried so hard to follow that advice! I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, but sleep wouldn’t come - I was just too excited to know that we would be meeting our daughter shortly! I turned Gilmore Girls on the television and tried to zone out and rest while watching that. I kept timing my contractions and they were slowly getting further apart - how frustrating! I also was texting Val a bit here and there. Jonathan’s mom made it out to our house and Jonathan sat downstairs with her while I tried in vain to sleep. At some point, I came downstairs and bounced on the exercise ball for a little while. I also ate a bowl of cereal sometime while it was still dark out. I got frustrated and turned off the television and turned on a relaxation meditation - that didn’t do a darn thing for me either!
I finally decided to take a shower as daybreak approached. I figured that I ought to be fresh and clean if I was going to be having a baby that day! Nate woke up shortly after I took my shower, so we brought him downstairs to hang out with Grams. Jonathan had finished packing the hospital bag while I was trying to rest, so he went ahead and loaded the car. We decided that we wanted to take a walk around the neighborhood to see if my contractions would pick back up again. Unfortunately, we realized that it was raining out and wasn’t ideal weather for that walk! So what did we do? We looked at the clock and saw that it was around 7 am on a Sunday - what was open? Stop and Shop! We loaded the hospital bags in the car just in case we needed to go straight there from our walk, and set off to walk to aisles of the grocery store in an effort to get labor moving.
Labor didn’t move.
In fact, my contractions just got further and further apart. I think I had one, maybe two, total, the entire time we were walking around Stop and Shop. I got hungry, so we went to Panera for breakfast. It was like one last little date before our new addition joined us. I remember texting the update to Val and she reminded me to enjoy the secret, special time I had with Jonathan then - very few people knew we were in early labor, and we got to just enjoy each other for a little while before heading off to the hospital.
A note about the fact that very few people knew we were in early labor: the only people that really knew, aside from our midwives and doula, were our parents. When I was in labor with Nate, we didn’t tell a ton of people, but in the end, realized that we had told more than we were comfortable with (we were so excited - we just wanted everyone to know!) When things got dicey during his birth, I stopped updating, and people got worried. I also got stressed knowing that people were “waiting” on me to give birth. So, we made the decision to keep this a private affair. In fact, I was texting with a few friends throughout early labor, and made no mention that anything was going on. I felt bad that I was fibbing to them, but I really needed to have a private birthing experience.
Anyway, we finished our meal at Panera, and I was getting frustrated, not to mention very tired. Contractions were closer to thirty minutes apart. Had my water not broken to kick start things, it would have just been a normal day and I would have assumed that I was in false labor earlier in the morning. Since I am a good car sleeper, I asked Jonathan to just drive around for a while so I could try to nap in the car. He had recently made a new playlist of “coffee house” or acoustic versions of songs that we liked, and he played that while we drove through some of the more scenic areas near us. I dozed on and off and appreciated the time to rest.
We ended up back home around 9:30 am or so. The new midwife on call, Joann, called me to check in and see how I was doing. I told her that contractions had all but stopped and that I was frustrated. She suggested that I rest and maybe try using my breast pump to stimulate my nipples and get contractions moving again. She said that she understood that I didn't want to have any type of synthetic labor augmentation like pitocin, and that we had some time before we needed to explore those options. She suggested that I call her back by 1:30 pm or so if things didn’t get moving before then.
Around 10 am, I pulled out my trusty breast pump and pumped for a little while. I was surprised that I was actually able to pump a little colostrum. Nothing happened right away, which frustrated me, but I decided that I should just take advantage of the time to rest and lay down. I took about a half hour nap, and was awake again by 11 am. At this point, contractions began to happen again… about five minutes apart. They were roughly a minute or so long, some longer, some a little shorter, but definitely a bit more intense than before. I had to stop what I was doing to work through them, so I knew they were the real deal.
We called Val to discuss what to do, and I had said that I was ready to get this show on the road and get to the hospital. My contractions were just about following the 5-1-1 rule that I had been taught (5 minutes apart, 1 minute long, for 1 hour - at this point it was only 40 or so minutes though). She got herself ready to go and we told her we were going to call Joann to let her know that we were on our way into the hospital. We got excited and as we called, started getting ready to go.
And then we called.
Joann said that she thought I should let my contractions get a little closer together and that it was still a bit early to come in. Oooookay. Not what I wanted to hear, but I trusted her, so I hung up with a promise to call her in an hour to give her an update.
We called Val back to let her know that she didn't need to head to the hospital right away. As we were on the phone with her, my contractions started to get closer together and even more intense. I absolutely couldn’t talk through them, and they were getting longer and longer. They were starting to average about ninety seconds long and be about three and a half minutes apart. A doula is not in a position to give medical advice, and I appreciate that Val did not violate that boundary, but we could hear the surprise in her voice that I wasn’t heading to the hospital yet. She knew that I was mentally ready to go to the hospital, so she suggested that maybe we head in that direction and that worst case, we could walk around the parking deck at the hospital, or go walk around a store nearby. Jonathan and I promised to discuss our options and call her back.
We decided that I should labor at home just a smidge longer. As we made that decision, my contractions kicked it up a notch. I had Jonathan make me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, because I knew that I needed energy if I was going to keep this up. I also needed him to provide some counter pressure on my lower back as I worked through my contractions. I had a few very intense contractions hit me and decided that I didn’t care that it hadn’t been an hour yet - Jonathan was calling Joann and letting her know that I was coming in.
He made the call and we headed out. Unfortunately, Nate woke up from a nap just as we were about to leave. He was groggy and upset and that had us upset as well. We tried to help calm him down between contractions (I went to hide in the kitchen to work through them so I wouldn’t scare him), and we eventually left him a bit more calm and watching “Finding Nemo” with Grams. We had also been in contact with my parents and knew that they were getting lunch at Panera and would be at the house soon. I think we only missed them by minutes.
The car ride to the hospital was, quite possibly, the most miserable 25 minutes of my life. My contractions were coming slightly closer and closer together and were very intense. Without being about to move around to help work through them, I was not a happy person. I have no idea how Jonathan managed to drive me to the hospital. If he was next to me, carrying on the way that I was, I would never have been able to drive. I kept repeating one of the labor affirmations that had resonated with me. The contraction pain was not stronger than me because it came from within me. I also knew that as I moaned and groaned through contractions that I needed to keep my jaw relaxed and keep things “low”. Getting tense would only make it worse. We had done a pain management technique involving breathing that I had really liked. It involved visualizing my breath filling my lungs being akin to water filling a glass, and as I exhaled, I was pouring the water out of my cup. I tried so hard to use this technique during the car ride but just couldn’t focus. I remember whining to Jonathan that I “couldn’t find my cup!” When we were about a block from the hospital, I begged Jonathan to run a red light, but being the good man that he is, he ignored me and followed the laws. Fortunately, we pulled up to the hospital just a moment later.
Jonathan dropped me off at the door for labor and delivery and went to park the car in the temporary parking that they provide. I got out of the car clutching my pillow and glad that I could stand to work through my contractions. I was not exactly quiet as this was happening, and I think I scared a couple that was calmly walking in the labor and delivery entrance. The husband looked absolutely terrified of me when he walked by! Jonathan joined me and we headed inside as I worked through my contractions.
According to Jonathan, when I got to the doors for labor and delivery, and hit the intercom to be let inside, all that I managed to say to the nurse was “LAAABOR!!!”. The doors swung open and they asked for my name. We told them and they grabbed my chart, put bracelets on our wrists, and called for my nurse. I was officially admitted to the hospital at 1:12 pm. They knew I needed to get to my room as soon as I could and they did everything they could to expedite this process as much as possible. I had to stop and sign some paperwork on the way down the hall. I remember asking if I could just write “X” instead of trying to sign my name, and having to stop several times through this signing process to work through a contraction.
I also apologized to the nurses.
For what? For not baking them cookies. I had planned to make cookies as I worked through early labor, and I would bring those cookies to the lovely nurses in labor and delivery. I had even had a conversation with our cousin, Natalie, about what to do for nurses, as she is one. Labor didn’t go the way I had envisioned, so the cookies were never baked and I felt terrible. The nurses assured me that this was okay.
I finally made my way down the hall and into my lovely room. It was very large and complete with birthing tub, which I fully planned to take advantage of just as soon as I was allowed. I was warned that the baby and I would have to be monitored for about twenty minutes before I would be allowed to get up and move around.
Before I got in bed to be monitored, I changed out of the workout capris that I had worn in to the hospital and into my birthing skirt. I knew I didn’t want to wear a hospital gown this time around for delivery as that felt very “medical” to me so I had researched my options. I saw birthing skirts come up a few times and decided to make my own. I kept my tank top on with my skirt and settled onto the bed as well as I could with contractions coming very quickly and very painfully. I got hooked up to the monitors and let my midwife, Joann, check me to see my progression.
Three centimeters. Three freaking centimeters. All of this pain for three measly centimeters?!? I was annoyed and frustrated, but couldn’t focus on those feelings for very long because I was in pain. Much of this is a blur, but I do remember yammering on about not wanting to get an epidural and everyone telling me that I didn’t have to. I endured the twenty minutes of monitoring and asked to get up and go to the bathroom. Joann said that the baby was having decels and that she wasn’t comfortable with me being off the monitors yet. That meant the tub was currently off limits too. This was not what I wanted to hear. Before she even told me about the decels, I knew they were present because I could hear them on the monitors. I had the same issue with Nate. My guess was that the cord was wrapped around our daughter somewhere. Nate’s was around his shoulder. This was another all too familiar similarity to Nate’s birth and something that eventually had led to interventions last time - which I was terrified of having happen again.
Joann did let me stand up next to the bed because I was really uncomfortable (okay, in mind numbing pain) in the bed. I still had the monitors attached but I got to stand up. This was much more comfortable for me and I was handling the contractions ever so slightly better. Jonathan came around to my side of the bed and let me hang on him as I worked through the contractions. I was leaking a lot of fluid at this point and thought I kept peeing on myself. I was so convinced that I was peeing on myself and every time there was a gush, Joann had to remind me that it was just amniotic fluid. She had me put on a pair of the lovely postpartum mesh panties with a giant diaper type pad to catch the fluid. These gushes were always at the end of contraction and immediately followed a ton of pressure that I pretty much grunted through. That pressure was the baby moving down.
I got to stand like this for a little while, but Joann soon informed me that the baby was not tolerating this position particularly well. That was not what I wanted to hear, but didn’t really surprise me all that much. I got back into bed and positioned myself on my right side. The contractions got much more intense for me at this point, of course, and I was burning up. I felt so hot. It didn’t occur to me to take my tank top off and labor in my bra, though in retrospect, I probably should have! My nurse, Susanne, gave me an ice pack. She or Joanne or Jonathan had to keep replacing the ice packs for me because I was just so hot. At this point, I pretty much buried my head in the pillow and just kept requesting new ice packs on my neck and head.
Jonathan sat on the opposite side of the bed from me and rubbed my back and helped in any way he could. The contractions were pretty unbearable, but I remembered that if I kept my vocalizations lower in pitch, that would help me to stay open and get through them. Knowing this and doing this were two different things, however. I would do very well for most of the contraction, but just as it would peak, I would lose control and take on a higher pitched groan or, for lack of a better word, scream, which wasn't the best thing for controlling my pain.
At some point around this time, Val made it to the hospital. I remember hearing her voice in the hallway and telling her to come in. She asked Joann about my progress and was surprised to hear that I was three centimeters based on the way she saw me laboring. Joann asked to check me again, and found that I was dilated to seven centimeters. Wow! That was fast and hearing that renewed my energy. Things were moving quickly, and that gave me some confidence that I could get through this.
I will admit that things at this point are a bit fuzzy for me, so I may not get it all in the correct order. At some point the nurse asked us to start filling out the birth certificate paperwork. All Jonathan managed to write was my name because I needed him to help me through labor. The phlebotomist came in to take my blood and I told her I was too busy for her at that moment as the contractions were coming one on top of the other! Jonathan eventually just held my arm up for her to draw my blood. I have to admit that she was pretty quick and efficient and I had so much else going on that I barely even really noticed that she stuck me.
I started to involuntarily push at the end of my contractions because it was the only thing that felt “good” (good being a relative term, mind you). I had read about a woman’s body pushing “on its own”, and after my first birth experience, I didn’t understand how that was possible. Suddenly, I did. My body started to push on its own and everyone in the room except for me seemed to know that we were getting close. All this time, I was laying on my right side. Jonathan was providing counter pressure on my back, having to move lower and lower with each contraction. Val was helping me breathe, and I remember hearing her breathe with me through my contractions. She was also putting ice on my head, which was so badly needed as I felt like the room was a burning inferno. I got very nauseous and wondered if that meant that I was approaching transition. I knew that nausea was often a sign of transition, but I hadn’t gotten to the hospital all that long ago, so logically I figured that it couldn’t have been transition.
Joann checked me again when this pushing was happening. She looked up and told me that we were at nine centimeters with a little lip of cervix still covering. As she checked me, she told me she would try to move it out of the way and just like that, I was at ten centimeters! Fully dilated! I was in disbelief and things started happening all around me to get ready to have Amelia join us. Joann, Val, and Susanne were making comments about meeting our baby soon and I remember just being in such disbelief. I mean, after all, they hadn’t asked me to roll on my back, no one was putting my legs into those awful stirrups, and no one was telling me how or when to breathe or push… everyone simply came around me to assist me in birthing our daughter.
It was incredible to have everyone come around me and let me birth the way my body needed to. I was told to push when I was ready and reminded that screaming wouldn’t help me do anything but get a sore throat. Our angel of a nurse held my left leg in the air and I let out what would certainly be considered guttural sounds as I let my body push our daughter into this world. I felt the “ring of fire” and knew that I must be getting close to meeting Amelia. And then, she was here, with her cord wrapped around her shoulder just like her big brother. Amelia Kathryn Fencik was born at 2:23 pm on August 3, 2014.
I rolled onto my back and saw my daughter for the first time. Joanne handed her to me and I held her on my chest in utter disbelief. She was the most beautiful little girl I had ever seen. We waited for the umbilical cord to stop pulsing before Jonathan got to cut the cord. Amelia began to nurse and I just sat there in awe of the entire experience. Here she was, just an hour and eleven minutes after we were admitted to the hospital. Suddenly all the pain was gone and I was euphoric. I couldn't believe that our daughter was actually here with us and that together we had achieved my goal of natural childbirth.
As Amelia nursed, I delivered the placenta and Joann gave me two or three stitches for a slight tear, most likely right along the scar tissue I had from the second degree tear I had from giving birth to Nate. I felt amazing. I got to sit there with our daughter in my arms, getting the precious skin to skin nursing and bonding time that I had been cheated out of the first time due to care providers who just didn’t understand what I had hoped my birth experience would be.
After a half an hour or so, Jonathan grabbed my cell phone so that we could call my Mom to announce the news that Amelia was here. Everyone was at our house with Nate and Mom relayed the news to the crowd. We told them we’d call again when we were in my postpartum room and would set up a time for them to come visit and for Nate to meet his new sister. After this phone call, I started to sob. I just couldn’t believe that our daughter was here. I kept saying to Jonathan that I couldn’t believe it. I was so excited and euphoric and blissfully happy. I sobbed remembering the IVF cycle that was tainted with so much uncertainty, the low beta numbers that didn’t promise a viable pregnancy, the placenta previa that had threatened to take away my chance to have a natural birth. Despite all of that, and perhaps because of all of it, here I was with my daughter in my arms.
Amelia nursed for about forty five minutes or so before they asked for Jonathan to bring her across the room to have a quick assessment and to be wrapped in a blanket so we could be transferred to the postpartum room. Somewhere during all of this, Val got in touch with the woman who would be encapsulating the placenta for us and met her in the parking lot with the placenta in a cooler (but not before taking some cool pictures for me first!). Val also got me what Joann referred to as the postpartum cocktail - ginger ale and cranberry juice mixed. I swear that I have never tasted anything so delicious in my entire life. She came and sat with me while Jonathan stood across the room with Amelia, getting her weighed and measured. 7 pounds, 7 ounces, 20 inches. The thing that I remember most about Val’s presence was how she was right there when we needed her, and she let us have the moment we needed when it was appropriate. She poked her head in the room to come back in after taking the placenta out just as I was dissolving into tears after talking to my mom. She saw what a private, personal moment that Jonathan and I were having with our new daughter and excused herself to let us be. I will forever be grateful for everything she did for us that day and the days leading up to the birth, but especially for that moment.
Once Amelia was wrapped in a blanket, and had her standard issue hospital hat on, Jonathan held her and came back over to me. We said our goodbyes to Val, and took a few pictures together. Our nurse brought in the wheelchair and bassinet to transport us to our new room. I kept apologizing for monopolizing one of the birthing tub rooms when I didn't even make it into the tub! She assured me it wasn't a problem. We talked about my homemade birthing skirt that I still had on and how wonderful it would have been if I had labored longer and had gotten to sit on a birthing ball or walk the hallways. She wheeled us down to postpartum and we passed a nurse who had seen us as we came into the hospital. She was shocked to see us already heading down to our new room. As we pulled up to the postpartum nurses station, they said, “Oh we heard about you and your quick birth”, and sent us down the hall to our room, Susanne pushing me in the wheelchair, and Jonathan pushing Amelia in the bassinet.
Oh, and the carefully crafted birth plan? The essential oils to help me through labor? The music and meditations chosen to guide me through this experience? The carefully chosen photographs of my grandmother and Nate that I had hoped to use as focus points as labor intensified? Yup... All of it still in my bag. None of it used, none of it removed. You know what they say about best laid plans and all...
We got settled into our room and met our new nurses. Amelia nursed again. We made arrangements for the family to come visit. We ordered dinner. It was amazing. Our daughter was with us and we had had the birthing experience that I had longed for. The best part is that due to the amazing policies of this hospital, she had been no further than across the room from me since she was born. No trip to the nursery, no bath away from me. She was right there the whole time.
My experience birthing Amelia was healing and incredible. I can’t put into words what the experience meant to me. Having to get pregnant - twice - through artificial (and yes, amazing!) means was very hard for me. As a woman, I felt as though my body had totally failed and couldn’t and didn’t do what it was made to do. Now, I had given birth to my daughter, no drugs, no interventions. My body did what it was made to do and our beautiful daughter was now here with us as a result. In some ways as Amelia was born, I felt as though I was reborn as a mother. People often scoff at natural birth and ask what you hope to get as a result - a medal or something? In my case, it was reclaiming a part of myself that I thought was helplessly and hopelessly broken. And in that moment that Amelia was born, it has been repaired.
This birth story experience has taken me over three months to finally finish typing out, having worked on it a little at a time. Why? I am not sure. Amelia’s birth was one of the most significant experiences of my life to be certain, and I suppose I wanted to do it justice. In some ways, I’m still processing this amazing experience and what it meant to me and for me. I’m also just enjoying being in the moment with my two beautiful children and my amazing husband. Life has truly never been better since Amelia came into this world and completed our family at 2:23 pm on August 3, 2014. This is her story; this is our story.
| Happy, happy, happy! |
| With our doula, Val |
| It's nice to meet you, Amelia. I think you're gonna like it here... |


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