I hesitated for a few weeks (ok she’s a MONTH OLD tomorrow #yikes) to write this. Birth stories are incredibly personal, sacred and sometimes a little gross or scary. Ultimately I decided to post it, because of how helpful and informative it was for me to read as many birth stories as I could get my hands on during my third trimester. It’s pared down and cleaned up and hopefully not too gross or personal for y’all.

THEN it was the challenge of actually writing it. Each time I sat down and started typing I’d either delete entire paragraphs, worried they were too icky or personal, or I’d start crying about how amazing and beautiful it was. Because that’s who I am now – that obsessed, emotional mom. But here goes.

DISCLAIMER: My experience was awesome. Incredible. Dare I say easy? Everyone keeps telling me “Man, you shouldn’t tell other women – they’ll be angry!” Well, it doesn’t mean your labor/delivery will be murderous. Nor does it mean your baby will be as chill and perfect as mine. Its true; I don’t even know how lucky I am. But I am so grateful anyway. 

On Monday, February 9th I was four days overdue and went into my OBGYN to see if there had been enough progress for her to set me up for induction. Turns out there was very little progress from the previous Friday, but the tiny progress + her sympathy for my big bloated waddle pushed my doc over the edge. She told me I’d be induced tomorrow, February 10th and gave me a little info paper. A few hours later, after a final Target baby section visit, house organizing, and a hair appointment with Patti B I got a call from Labor & Delivery telling me to be there at 6 am! Ryan & I had a nice final date night and settled in for an early night of nervous/excited half sleep.

Yeah, I got up at 4:30 to shower, shave and do my hair and makeup. And I REGRET NOTHING. I swear, you guys, looking put together and feeling pretty helped me so much. The whole process is pretty gross and often undignified, so knowing that my hair looked fly and my brows were on fleek made me feel SO MUCH BETTER. I’m actually going to dedicate an entire forthcoming post to looking glam in the delivery room because I feel so strongly about it.

After check-in and getting set up in the room they started my pitocin around 7:30ish. Turns out I HAD been having contractions for a couple of weeks, they were just mild and I didn’t think they counted. Now I watched them on the monitor and just kept smiling – this means she’s coming! Still, I was prepared for 24 hours or something crazy like that, since it’s my first time and I was only at like a 3, right? Ryan fell asleep and I did some reading and writing in my journal.

My doctor showed up at 9 am and broke my water which was probably the weirdest feeling in the entire world and also completely gross. My contractions had been getting slowly stronger and closer together, but WOW did they pick up after my water broke. Within about 5 minutes of my doc leaving they were a couple of minutes apart and took intense concentration to get through. Yeah. Labor sucks, just like everyone says. How do women do it naturally? And for DAYS?! My nurse told me I could get the epidural whenever I wanted, and said my contractions were getting pretty intense so I just needed to say the word. About 30 minutes later it was MOTHER EFFING SNAKES ON A MOTHER EFFING PLANE every other minute. I was so grateful to feel real labor and know what it was like. But I felt right about saying “Ok bring the juice. Give me the juice.” Notice the lack of exclamation points. I handled my biz. I was ok.

The anesthesiologist showed up around 9:40 and brought probably the hardest part of my entire labor process – holding completely still, hunched over my racking womb, for 3 hard contractions worth of time while he loaded the juice into my spine. Oh yeah, Ryan. He was there, doing a great job by the way. A little overwhelmed but holding my hands and head and telling me I was doing great. Within about 10 minutes I was feeling soft and heavy and blissfully numb. BAM. I was asleep.

About an hour later I wake up feeling really well-rested. Ryan grabbed me some of their sno-cone Tiger’s Blood flavored ice chips and I was updating all my family and pals, thinking “Hey. This ain’t half bad!”

Then I realized how hangry I was. They said to eat a good breakfast, but I was too nervous to force down anything but a little bit of greek yogurt and berries. It was now 11:30 and I was STARVING. My legs went from feeling nice and numb to feeling heavy and sandbagged. I couldn’t get comfortable. They checked me and found that I was at a 5, but since I started at a 3 that didn’t really seem like anything had really happened. My mom asked if she should head to the hospital, but I said “No, I’m just at a 5 and I’m hungry and fussy and whiney so there’s no reason. You can’t even bring me a cheeseburger so what’s the point?” I hunkered down, trying to distract myself with books and twitter and ice chips, thinking I still had 10 hours to go and that maybe I was stupid for getting the epidural so early. {In retrospect, the nurse said this was when I was going through “transition” which is an intense part of labor, even if you’re numb apparently.}

Less than an hour later (about 12:40) the nurse came in to see how I was doing and if I needed anything. I said “Well if you can’t give me a cheeseburger I’m not sure there’s anything you can do for me right now!” and we had a nice laugh. Throughout all of my labor I was in great spirits and joking around, even this weird part, which I credit to both the epidural and being all done up and put together. And it was awesome, because I think it helped put Ryan at ease and I swear it made the nurses way happier and more likely to do whatever they could for me. **Be as nice and chipper and optimistic as you can in labor and delivery. Everyone benefits, I promise**

She said “You’re right, I can’t get you a cheeseburger. Sorry! But we can at least check and see if you’ve progressed! Those contractions still look pretty strong.” Meh. I shrugged. Go ahead. Whatever. I don’t care. I’ll probably be at like a 6…

“OH. Oh. Ok. You’re at a 9.5 and her head is basically right there. We’re ready to start pushing!”

WHATTTTTTTT.

We snapped to attention. Ryan is clearing up all my distraction detritus from my lap table, they’re summoning my OBGYN and we called my mom to head on over. Two minutes later Ryan texted my mom “Patti B you better get here or we’re gonna have this baby without you.” She did not find that as hilarious as we did.

At about 1 pm my mom shows up and I was officially at a 10! The pushing began! I pushed through about 5-6 contractions. The nurse had me push for 10 seconds, 3x during each contraction. It was weird, not being able to feel but apparently I’m a rockstar pusher because after 5-6 contractions the nurse goes “Ok STOP. Stop. Don’t push anymore. Wow. Ok we can’t keep going or she will get here before your doctor!”

WHATTTTTTTTT?!

Nurses fly in, prepping the room and bringing in all kinds of shiny, scary metal objects. I couldn’t stop laughing and smiling. This can’t be real! It’s like 2 pm! I pushed like 5 times! My mom is all giggles and Ryan is this ball of nervous excitement gripping my hand. The doctor walks in just after 2 pm.

“Hey Danica! I hear you’re moving right alon- WHOA! Ok. OK. Yeah they weren’t kidding! Ok let’s go!” 

She is throwing on her gloves and gown and stuff, asking where the NICU nurses were (there was meconium {fetus poop} in my water so they have NICU people there to suction out their lungs when they come out, apparently). But we weren’t gonna wait for them! She has me push.

“Oh! She’s crying! She’s trying to cry!”

“What? You can see her face? Wow!”

“Ok push again Danica here we go…. now!”

And there she is.

I can’t believe I’m seeing her.

There’s this little squirming purpley-gray little ball of fists and fury in my doctor’s hands! And it’s MY little squirming ball!

I’m all tears and smiles. It’s like my eyes and my heart and my hands are all magnetically drawn to her. Invisible threads connected us immediately, my baby and me.

They suction out her lungs and here comes the screaming! Baby girl got lungs like her momma. No one really expected my baby to be quiet, did they? They cut her little cord and wipe her down and bring her right to my heart, right where she belongs.

This moment. Straight magic. All love. Pure heaven. How can anyone doubt the existence of our Supreme Creator and the beautiful Plan of Salvation after a moment like this?

I reluctantly gave her up to be measured and cleaned and checked. Gross stuff is going on at the foot of my bed in the meantime, no details necessary on the blog. (I am willing to give you the 100% honest, TMI version in person anytime you want though.) It was great to just turn my head and watch Ryan watch her. I’ve never seen his eyes quite like that.

Pretty soon she was back on my chest for skin-to-skin, the room was clean and empty, and we were The Holdaway Family. For real, for the first time. Ryan, Danica and Reese.

And the second best moment of the day was that blessed tray from the hospital cafeteria holding a cheeseburger, fries, an icy Diet Coke and my favorite Oreo shake. Hands down the best meal I’ve ever had. Not just because I was so hungry and happy and proud. But because this was the view:

Welcome to the world, Reese Viona. We love you. So. Much.