The birth of sweet Morgan

**This is written super choppy. Both because I was piecing it together intermittently and because my brain is still a little murky.

At 10:13pm, Wednesday February 17, sweet, perfect Morgan Jack Mayhem made his way into the world.

There are not words to fully describe how full he has made our hearts, or how much he has soothed my soul by simply being.

Of all my labors and births his was by far the most difficult. Physically.

He came a whopping 12 days “late” (it’s hard to say he was late when no one gave him a calendar – he came when he was ready!). By then I was sore and swollen, and rather missing my ankles and having my feet fit into my shoes.

Wednesday morning started off like every other morning. There was nothing. Nada. No signs. No symptoms.

A few Braxton Hicks. But I’d been having them regularly for the past month. Sometimes they’d be so close together and strong that I’d think “Oh, maybe this is going to be it!” But alas.

J asked if we were going to have a baby today. I laughed and told him “no” because nothing was happening at that point.

While J was putting his shoes on to go to work around 8am I went to the bathroom and had some bloody discharge. I walked back out of the bathroom and told him that maybe today would be the day after all, so he should stay near his phone at work, but told him to go to work because there was definitely nothing too exciting yet.

I took a shower before taking the kids to story time at Barnes and Noble and lost my mucous plug at that point. That was the first “sign” of labor when I had H, so I was feeling like this really had to be it.

Finally.

At story time I had some really mild, random contractions that still seemed just like Braxton Hicks, so I wasn’t too excited about them. But I was feeling like today would be the day. Whenever it decided to happen.

I took a nap that afternoon. I called J and told him he should probably come and take the kids to their gymnastics that evening because I was pretty tired and just knew labor was going to start soon.

Shortly after J and the kids left for their 5pm classes contractions started. And these were the real deal.

 
They were coming fast and furious. I vacuumed the entire house like a crazy lady, pausing when the contractions got too intense too vacuum through.

At around 6:30ish I called my midwife and told her that the contractions were no longer fun and it was probably time for her to head over.

J and the kids got home a little after 7pm and at this time I could hardly think or speak through each contraction.

My mom and sister stopped by to drop off desert, but I honestly cannot tell you when or for how long they were there. I was in my zen zone by then.

A bit after my midwife arrived. I believe I had retreated to my bedroom at that point.

 

I went to the bathroom to pee and then decided that water sounded quite enticing for my intense back labor.

Oh WHY did I think my back labor with H was better than front labor with B? I must have been so high on baby bliss that I was completely unaware of how painful it really was.

This was intense. There are not words to describe it.

 
J ran the bath water for me. I had to laugh at the situation. I’d had a birth tub for H. I labored in it, but ultimately gave birth out of it. With B I was pretty adamant I wanted a water birth, but when the time came the very idea of water was so unappealing. So with sweet baby M I decided not to bother with a birthing tub as I figured I wouldn’t want it. Joke was on me, for sure!

The water was fantastic. B sat on the edge of the tub, stroking my forehead and my tummy, telling me repeatedly, “You’re so brave, Momma. You’re so brave.” Thinking about how sweet and strong that loving boy was through it all still chokes me up. He was apprehensive, but he brought his A-game and was incredibly thoughtful and resilient.

 

Eventually it got to the point where the only comfortable way to get through the contractions were to push with them.

Also, at some point while I was in the tub my dear friend and M’s godmother showed up to take photos.

 

I couldn’t get fully comfortable in the tub with pushing, so got out and decided I was probably not leaving the bathroom. You know, the smallest room in our house. That was now housing J and myself, plus our midwife and her apprentice, our sweet photographer, our darling B who was in possession of my camera and super click-happy, Miss H who just wanted the baby out all ready, as well as my step-mom. It was a party in the bathroom.

I stood in the bathroom, pushing with contractions. The birth stool wasn’t really comfortable, and real squatting wasn’t terribly comfortable. So mostly I just stood. And pushed. For what felt like forever. My water broke during this time.

After a bit of that, I was exhausted and finally sat down, mostly laying back onto J. But that was getting no where and my back hurt SO BAD. More than the pushing or the contractions, my back raged in pain. And sweet Baby Bighead didn’t seem to be going anywhere.

I then pushed on hands and one knee down/one up for a bit. That didn’t go anywhere.

I’m telling you, this baby was very content being physically a part of me for, well, ever.

Then we moved into the bedroom. Where I had intended to birth anyway. Really, maybe sweet M is just good at following directions and realized that the bathroom was not according to plan and he figured at least one part of this pregnancy could go as planned, ha.

So in my room I ended up on my back, knees over my head, in a position I would have never instinctively gotten into. But you know what? It worked. He took his sweet time, but our perfect little angel baby made his way into this world.

H helped to catch him; B was excited to see he was right and now had a baby brother; J was pretty happy to actually witness the baby coming out (he’d never actually seen that with the other two because he was always behind me, supporting me, with his view being blocked by me); and me, well, I was just glad for it to be over with and this perfect tiny human to finally be here.

 

Once he was out the pain was gone. My back no longer ached. I no longer felt so exhausted I could barely keep my eyes open. I no longer questioned if I really could endure the pain much more. I felt euphoric and on top of the world, and so completely in love.

All babies are blessings. They’re all fantastic little miracles. But we went through just a little extra to have this darling; it made it just a wee bit more amazing.

I usually have words. All the words. Too many words. But to accurately describe how we were exactly missing this little person and how he fills our hearts and our family; how he has soothed my soul in ways I hadn’t quite imagined; well, I have no words.

He is so loved. So deeply loved. I feel like I have known him my whole life, and yet he’s a completely new little being.

It was five very intense hours bringing his sweet little soul into the world. And I’d do them all again for him tenfold.