My birth story did not go the way I expected. But to me, it was perfect. I am so happy and proud of the way Teddy was brought into this world. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

As I approached my due date, I had a gut feeling that Teddy would make his appearance earlier than expected. Boy, was I wrong. The lil’ bean made us wait until I was 40 weeks and 6 days to grace us with his presence.
Before giving birth, one of the things that I was the most nervous about was the actual labour and delivery process. I wanted to be mobile and have the flexibility to try different labouring positions and I would go drug-free as long as possible, but the potential pain concerned me and I knew I wouldn’t shy away from an epidural if it became too much.

Because Teddy was so comfortable in the womb, I was scheduled for a Foley bulb induction at 40 weeks and 5 days. This is a procedure where a catheter is inserted into your cervix and the other end is taped to your inner thigh with some tension. One end of the catheter has a deflated balloon, which the doctor inflates with a saline solution to put pressure on your cervix and encourage dilation.

It felt like having an extra large tampon shoved up in your cervix.

I was told that I would experience mild to moderate cramps and that the Foley would fall out on its own before I had to come back the next morning for an induction. The cramps were definitely more moderate to heavy. I felt throbbing pain in my pelvis that made me feel nauseous and weak. The pain hit me in waves for what seemed like hours. It hurt to lie down and the only time I felt relief was by pacing up and down my living room, breathing deeply into my pelvis.

Overnight, the sharp, constant cramps subsided, and I began to experience mild cramps in the early morning. Just as I was about to leave for the hospital, the Foley bulb came out on its own and it was at this point that my contractions started. They were about 30mins apart and the pain was again mainly in my pelvis. The diaphragmatic breathing that I had been practicing all these months came in handy as I consciously breathed into my pelvic floor, trying to relax it with every contraction. Shortly upon arriving at the hospital, the nurse came by to break my water and excitedly announced that I was five centimeters dilated. She did warn me that the contractions would get much more intense. Sure enough, they did. I felt great, because it seemed like I was progressing quickly and my contractions seemed to be getting closer and closer.

Once active labour started, I made sure to get out of bed and on all fours to use the exercise ball, putting my arms around it and rolling from side to side, breathing through each contraction. The pain rolled over me, building steadily at first but sometimes catching me by surprise, leaving me out of breath as I tried to sync my breathing to help support the pain.

Each contraction was exhausting. I always dreaded the next one.

They seemed to be occurring closer together and I was getting more and more tired. In the end, I decided to get an epidural, knowing I had nothing to prove. I was in pain and I wanted some relief. The moments leading up to actually getting the epidural felt like an eternity. It took a over half an hour to set up and then they had to wait for each contraction to pass so that I could sit still to actually receive the epidural catheter. But once that freezing chill hit my lower back, I was in heaven. I no longer felt the waves of contractions, but was still making progress, as contractions were getting closer and closer together.

However, six hours later I was still only five centimeters dilated, no further than I had been in the morning. Even worse, the baby’s heart rate was starting to make unusual drops during each contraction.

I was told that for the baby’s safety, it was going to be the best course of action to get him out now via an emergency Cesarean. Typically, an epidural can slow down the dilation process and in my case, the doctors did not think it would be safe to continue down the path of a vaginal birth, not knowing how long it would take for me to fully dilate.

It was crazy how quickly this decision had to be made and after quickly signing some consent forms, I was being whisked away to an operating room. I trusted the doctors and knew that for mine and baby’s safety, this was the best course of action. Even still, I cried tears of fear and anxiety, knowing that I was going to undergo major abdominal surgery. My mind was frantically trying to process and think of questions to ask before the procedure. I was comforted by the fact that Robin would be by my side in the operating room, but because I had not fully planned for this to happen, and because of the side effects of the epidural, my mind felt foggy and my body kept having uncontrollable shakes.

I was brought into the OR first so that the team could prep for my surgery. They set up a monitor so that I could see the warming table where my baby would be placed after coming out of my stomach. I requested for skin to skin right after the birth and was told that I would be able to do so in the recovery room. When I saw that monitor, I asked if it was possible to set up a camera on the actual operation as I was curious to see what was happening. When I was told that there was no option for that, I should have asked if the surgeon would be able to give me a verbal play-by-play of what was happening. Maybe that would have been more comforting. In retrospect, I wish I had asked for music to be played, or to drop the curtain so I could see my baby being born or for the lights to be dimmed slightly to create a warmer environment.

Clearly, there were things that I wish could have been done differently.

The actual surgery was a blur, I remember hearing random updates from the surgeon to tell me that I was doing amazing and that I would see my baby soon. I remember chatting with Robin, but with all the drugs I don’t remember what we talked about. I remember hearing the OB announce that the baby was out and exclaiming how big he was. They quickly brought him over to me so that I could see him for the first time. I remember choking back happy tears as I said hello to Teddy for the first time, then he was taken to the warming table where Robin cut the umbilical cord and was cleaned up. They bundled him up and brought him to my side. One of his eyes wasn’t fully open but his open eye was dark and intense. I was in absolute awe that this tiny human being had just emerged from my belly. We spent those first blissful moments together as a new family of three, weepily admiring our beautiful baby boy as the doctors continued to sew me back up.

Once surgery was completed, we were taken to a recovery area where I was able to do some skin to skin and breastfeed. Robin and I both took turns holding Teddy and staring at him. It felt surreal that after waiting nine long months, this tiny little human was now ours. The three hours spent in the recovery room were a blur as the anesthesia wore off. I drifted in and out of sleep and a burning itchy sensation overtook my face. Another side effect from the meds. I was feeling thirsty but drinking too much water could bring on nausea, so I chewed on some small ice cubes and enjoyed a popsicle or two.

At the end of my bed there was a large, white plastic container that looked like a cafeteria sized container of mayonnaise. It held my bright reddish purple placenta that had been feeding and giving life to my baby for the last nine months. We stared at it in some reverence, while the nurse held it up for us to see, while explaining how it had held Teddy.

Post-surgery, I don’t recall my incision ever causing me severe pain. I was aware that there was an incision, but the nurse kept coming in every six hours to make sure I was taking my pain meds. That first night smushed together into one long, hazy dream as the drugs wore off and our baby and I got acquainted, trying to soak in these first few hours together. Despite being exhausted I could barely sleep and any sound that came from his bassinet had us jumping—figuratively, in my case—to check on him. Was he breathing? Why was he fussing?

The second day was filled with lessons: bathing, nursing, swaddling. Overnight he was as quiet as a mouse—until he wasn’t, all of a sudden—which resulted in many more hours of staring watchfully at his chest to make sure those tiny breaths came and went. By the time we got to walk out of the hospital with him in his car seat, it felt like someone must be forgetting a critical piece of instruction.

We get to go out there, with him, and no one is there to make sure we don’t screw it up?

These last three weeks have been difficult on so many levels. But each day we are so grateful that Teddy is finally here and that he chose us as his parents. I wanted to send a big thank you to the amazing doctors and nurses at Mount Sinai hospital for safely delivering our healthy baby boy, and for their care and concern during this process. My OB, Dr. Sherriff, was all I could ever ask for and more, and the succession of nurses that watched over us during our first two nights as a family were absolutely outstanding.

Thank you, as well, for reading. As new moms and experienced moms, one of the most important things that we can do is share our stories so that we learn, grow and improve together.