The urgency to use the toilet woke me up once more in the middle of the night. The frequent visits to the bathroom were too common being 38 weeks pregnant. However, this time I felt uncomfortable, actually, it was more like pain. My stomach was tight and my back was hurting. I smiled. I was having contractions. I was two weeks early and I was going to have a baby— hopefully— in less than 24 hours.

I read the Bradley Method of childbirth as suggested by my midwife. I studied it and was determined to have a natural birth with no drugs and no epidural. However, I was willing to change my mind and go for some relief if I had to.

With my previous pregnancy we rushed to the hospital, only to be there for thirteen hours before I was dilated enough to push. Not this time around. I would stay home for as long as I could and go to the hospital once I was having hard contractions that were 5 minutes apart. With any luck, I would be able to sleep through some of those first contractions.

A wave of pain came as I lay in bed and it tightened my mid section. I relaxed my body just like the Bradley method suggested. I became a flower and willed myself to open up and let the baby slide down. Not too bad, it was actually kind of fun being a flower. Another contraction came and I relaxed, picturing my petals opening up. Soon there was one more. I should time my contractions.

My contractions were coming at constant intervals of 5 minutes, so I woke Andy up and announced that we were having a baby and we had to get going. I was thankful that just the night before I had made a list of all the things we needed to take with us to the hospital. Those things that you cannot pack ahead of time and that can be easily forgotten, like your journal or toothbrush.

While Andy showered, I gathered the items on the list and made the bed. As contractions assaulted me I squatted, just like the Bradley method suggested. My body relaxing, my flower opening up, and my baby coming down and moving out. Oh I could picture it in my head! A tight pink flower-bud slowly relaxing, opening up, and revealing a beautiful baby girl coming out to greet the world! Oh how thankful I was to have been blessed with great imagination.

I showered too. And even in the shower I squatted and became a flower.

“Honey, are you okay?” Andy asked, “Almost every time I look you are squatting, we got to go!”

“I’m okay, this just really helps with the pain.” Then I added with some humor and a sing-song voice, “I am a beautiful flower opening up to the world!”

“Yeah” Andy responded, “I think we still got time”

I dried and curled my hair. Births require pictures, and I was determined not to be “ugly mom.” Squatting and curling hair requires talent when you are 38 weeks pregnant, and I got to say, I was pretty good at it. However, even though I was talking and joking, my husband was not liking the amount of time I was spending sitting on my heels. He decided we needed to go, and no, doing my makeup first was not an option!

As we drove to drop off our oldest daughter at our friend’s house, I called my midwife to tell her we were on our way. She asked the usual questions, like, “How far apart are your contractions?” and “How are you handling the pain?” She said she was out the door, that she would meet me at the hospital, and to get there as soon as possible. It was 6:30 am. I did my makeup in the car and joked some more. My husband wondered if maybe after all, we should have waited home a little bit longer.

At 7:15 am we arrived at the hospital parking lot.

“Do you want me to go get you a wheelchair?” Andy asked.

“Nah” I responded, “I can walk.”

We got in the elevator at the same time as an elderly couple. We said hello and made small talk. Soon I was squatting, still looking at them and smiling. “I am having a contraction,” I explained. I wonder if Andy was embarrassed.

As we walked to the “maternity” desk we saw the morning nurses gathered to get instructions for the day. One of them noticed us and approached me.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes!” I said happily, “I am having a baby today!”

She looked at me questionably, “Wait a second here.” She turned around and was gone.

I was squatting as a different nurse came along and told us to follow her to a small room where she would check my contractions and see how dilated I was. She handed me the hospital gown and instructed me to lie down and wait for her. Andy helped me change.

“Hey honey,” I asked, “Would you mind rubbing some peppermint oil in the small of my back? It is pretty sore and I think it might help relax that area.”

As I lay on the small bed waiting for the nurse, Andy and I were taking guesses at what time the baby would be born. Maybe it would be at noon, maybe early afternoon. The peppermint oil was working wonders and I continued to open up my flower and allow the baby to come “down” and “out.”

As soon as the nurse came back in I wished I had gone to the bathroom. She hooked me up to a monitor to check my contractions and there was no way getting out.

“Huh” she observed, “Your contractions are very close together and are really spiking. Are you in pain?”

“Well, yeah, it is painful, but I am okay.”

“You know” she continued, “I think I better check and see how dilated you are.”

I almost said no, that I would wait for my midwife to get there as she was on her way. Really, who wants to have multiple people checking one for dilatation? But she was not asking me or giving me a choice, she was coming at me with a gloved hand.

She felt around. “Well,” she exclaimed with big eyes, “I would say that you are about a 9!”

“What!” I squealed, not in delight, but in great surprise. I quickly glanced at Andy who was looking at me with just as much disbelief.

“Yes,” the nurse continued, “Maybe even a 10, and I can feel the baby’s head.”

She quickly took her hand out, “We were sure you would be here a long time, being so happy and talkative.” She took her gloves off and looked at me intently, “I will be right back, and whatever you do, do not push!” With that she turned on her heal and ran out the room where we heard her yelling and calling for backup.

Andy and I barely had time to look at each other in incredulity. Was this really happening? We were giggling with excitement and nervousness, much like small children do when they get to ride a roller coaster for the first time. But before we could say anything at all, a swarm of nurses came rushing into the room.

They wheeled my bed to the delivery room. Andy following the busy workers who handed him a stack of papers and instructed him to sign them now!

I transferred myself to the delivery bed, while the nurses held their breaths. Once I was lying down, they begged me to breathe and wait for my midwife, who had just parked her car and would be there in just a few minutes. I told them I was fine, I just needed to go to the bathroom.

“Oh honey” one of the nurses said, “You do not have to go to the bathroom, that is just your baby, and it wants to come out!”

Kim, my midwife, ran into the room already scrubbed. She washed her hands, slipped her gloves on and got to work. I was ready to push she said. I told her I didn’t think so, but I really needed to go to the bathroom. She smiled. The nurses chuckled. “You don’t have to go to the bathroom” Kim said, just like the nurses had before, “This baby is ready to come out and you want to push!” So we found the most comfortable position for me, Kim broke my water to avoid getting splashed and said, “Whenever you are ready.”

There were many people in the room; Andy, Kim, nurses, more nurses, and even some students. I guessed Andy had signed a consent to have the students present. And here we were, in a hospital room, with about 15 people, and 13 of them strangers. All of them looking at my open flower in all its glory. I did find it amusing how they were all looking at me between my legs, with smiles on their faces, because they were about to witness the miracle of birth. So I pushed.

On my third push I felt excruciating pain. My skin ripping apart as my baby’s head was coming out. Kim tried to help, but there was nothing she could do.

“Oh Lord Jesus please help me!” I screamed.

I thought I saw a student glance at me and chuckle. But just as soon as I had screamed my desperate prayer, “The head is out!” Kim exclaimed. Nurses gathered with bulb syringes as they sucked on a little nose and mouth. I knew to wait until they checked to make sure the umbilical cord was not wrapped around the head.

“Can I push again?” I asked,

“Yes” Kim replied, “Do you want to grab her head and guide her to you?

“No! That is your job!” Was my quick answer.

In the next 2 pushes she was out. Just like that. Kim lifted my baby girl up, her naked back side facing me. My eyes were drawn to the thickness of her neck and the floppiness of her body. She has Down syndrome, I thought. Like in slow motion, I watched my baby girl make her way into my arms, knowing my world was about to change. I noticed all the faces around me smiling, marveling and awing. They did not know my baby was flawed, but I was almost sure of it. It was 8:22 am. I looked at Andy, who held my hand and had tears in his eyes. He gently kissed me and whispered in my ear, “I have been surprised by joy.”

But not me, looking into the face of my baby, examining her features, I could see Down syndrome. It was not joy that I felt, it was fear.

***

It is Down syndrome awareness month, so I am sharing our story of finding out our daughter had Down syndrome and the first few weeks of her life. If you missed my last post, make sure you read: Ultrasound Results

Next post: Does she have Down syndrome?

If you just joined in, make sure to read the first post introducing you to this journey: The road less traveled.