Brite Wren: A Birth Story

I was 39 weeks on Monday April 20th.  I had an early appointment scheduled and the doc and I had some ummm…plans.  Must we really say membranes here? Let’s just say it quickly and keep moving.  She stripped my membranes.  Onward…since this worked with Marin, I felt pretty confident things would start rolling along soon.  I started to feel some cramping around 4 pm, but it was pretty irregular, so I didn’t pay much attention to it.  My neighbor Whitney texted me to see if Marin and I wanted to come over to play. We sat in her backyard while the kids splashed in the water toys, Marin covered in water and sneaking her first sip of diet coke because hello possible CONTRACTIONS HERE. Whitney and I talked and drank diet coke with “Ooh yay I’m feeling another cramp!” interludes.  Andy got home from work a little early that day, so Marin and I said our byes and headed in.  By six o’clock the cramping had tapered off, so I had resolved that our little lady had decided to extend her stay. 

Then to my surprise, the cramping started again just as we were wrapping up dinner. They were a bit more uncomfortable but still irregular, 3 minutes apart then 7 minutes apart, etc.   I decided to call the on-call doctor around 8:00 pm to get her thoughts about whether or not this was labor because I didn’t want any rushing–to-the-hospital type of situations.  She told me that it didn’t sound like active labor because the contractions weren’t frequent or consistent, but that we could head to the hospital if we wanted.  I told Andy what she said and of course, you know, with visions of having a baby on the highway dancing in his head, he was pretty much in the “Get in the car now” mode.  BUT, I really hate being at the hospital and wanted to labor at home as long as possible if it was actual labor, so I decided to just keep timing the cramps for another hour to see what happened.  And there it was…by nine o’clock they were 3 minutes apart.  I knew our drive to the hospital was going to take about 40 min. and that second babies usually come a little quicker, so I told Andy it was time. 

My parents were at our house within ten minutes.  We gave hugs and kisses to Marin and told her that she would get to meet her baby sister soon. We walked out to the car with all of our bags in hand. And here comes one of my favorite moments.  Our neighbors, Whitney and Stevie, happened to be getting home as we were walking to the car.  They saw our bags and were like, “Wait. Wha?! Is it happening?!”  We told them we were headed to the hospital.  Stevie asked if they could pray for us real quick.  They put their arms around our shoulders and the four of us huddled in prayer, contractions happening through it all.  They prayed for a safe delivery, a healthy baby, and they prayed for our daughter by name (some of the few people we actually told the name).  They prayed she would be a light for the Lord.  You ever just feel like heaven’s listening? 

We thanked them for sharing in our joy and for praying for us. Then we hopped in our car.  I’m always really nostalgic about the car ride to the hospital, with both of our daughters’ births.  We talked, drove slow, and breathed through contractions and butterflies. It’s a car ride we could never have wrapped our brains around when we were the Megan and Andy who had just met, exchanging numbers and wondering what would come from this relationship.  Then all of a sudden there you are together, sitting in this hushed moment just before you have your second child. 

We checked in at the labor and delivery counter around 9:45.  They told us it would be a short wait while they prepared a room.  I had forgotten how perplexing the labor and delivery waiting room is. I mean, there is the guy restocking the vending machine and the family eating McDonald’s right next to LADY IN LABOR.  Oh, hello. 

They called us back around 10:30.  We settled in.  Our nurse Katherine was so kind and peaceful. Peaceful is important, friends. When she checked me I was already 7 centimeters dilated and 90% effaced! I remember being shocked that I could be that close to 10 centimeters and not be in any real pain yet.  The doctor came in and we decided to go ahead and break my water to get things rolling a bit quicker.  Andy would laugh at how easy I just made that decision sound. The reality is that I was in full fickle hormonal paranoia mode and my doctor’s knowledge and years of experience were no match to my Google doctorate.   Also, was it really necessary to make me use my remaining brain cells.  

After breaking my water, we put in the request for the epidural because we figured things would start moving pretty quickly…which they did.  My contractions started feeling more intense, to the point where I couldn’t talk through them anymore.  Thankfully the anesthesiologist walked in soon after that, just as I was entering the “throw up pain."  He told me that he had one person ahead of me but for some reason they weren’t ready yet so he came to me first.  I could not have been more grateful that he let me skip in line because only a few minutes after he put in the epidural I felt like I NEEDED to push.  I told the doctor with urgency, “I really need to push! Can I go ahead and push!?” I never felt that with Marin because I couldn’t even feel my ear lobes during my labor with her.  So, yeah, it was go time.  Andy was so calm and encouraging, just telling me every contraction that I was doing a great job.  Poor guy was simply rubbing his thumb on my hand at one point when I looked at him like…if that thumb rubs my hand one more time.  It’s okay; we laugh about it now. 

Then, at 12:39 am, Brite Wren entered the world.  Her cry was quiet and her eyes were alert.  The doctor layed her on my chest.  I couldn’t tell if it was something in me that felt more confident this time around or if it was her, but her entrance into our lives felt like a whisper, seamless, like she had always been ours.    

We love you, Brite Wren.  Our hearts leapt at your first breath and will for each one after.  We are honored to be yours.