Nikki is a colleague of mine from college. She is a talented educator and a mother of three. Supermom if you ask me. I met her in my first literacy course at the University of South Carolina, where we were asked to write a memoir. I remember Nikki being asked to read hers in front of the class. She shared the story below and I remember being completely blown away by her courage and strength as a mom. I think you will agree with me after reading this incredible birth story.
We found out that we were expecting our third child in early 2005. My husband and I had two lively, lovable little boys and were excited to be blessed with another child. It was pretty clear early-on that this pregnancy was going to be different than my previous two.
We found out that we were expecting our third child in early 2005. My husband and I had two lively, lovable little boys and were excited to be blessed with another child. It was pretty clear early-on that this pregnancy was going to be different than my previous two.
When I reached the twelve week mark, I began having some spotting. I worked a very physically demanding job at the time and was switched to light duty to lessen the strain on my body. Despite the change in work demands, I continued to experience some spotting over the next several weeks. My doctor decided that an ultrasound was in order at my next appointment. I remember watching the screen as the doctor evaluated the baby. I was praying to see the familiar flutter of a tiny heart so that I would know that my precious little one was alright. The doctor determined that the baby was fine but the placenta was not. There was a tear near the bottom which meant that a visit to a specialist would be needed.
A few days later, my husband and I went to see the specialist in Columbia. The specialist decided that limited activity and no lifting of my two boys would decrease the chance of an early delivery or placental previa (basically a rupture of the placenta). During our visit that day, we learned that our tiny baby was a girl. The tears really flowed then!
Over the next months my doctors monitored the placenta closely. As we got closer to baby girl’s due date it looked like the placental tear had healed. The worry now was how well it would fair during labor and delivery. In the last few weeks of my pregnancy we began to look at induction dates to make sure that my doctor would be there for the delivery. Despite our best intentions, my doctor did not make the delivery.
My daughter’s birth story is quite different from that of my boys. Both boys were born at the same hospital and delivered by my doctor. Allie however, was not born at any hospital nor was she delivered by a doctor.
I began having contractions very early on a Saturday morning. Both of my previous labors had been pretty quick, so my husband and I got the boys taken care of and headed quickly to the hospital. We were taken to Labor and Delivery and checked in. After a few hours of monitoring we were told that it wasn’t time and the nurse sent us home.
I spent the rest of the day resting on the couch and timing contractions. The day crept by, and I was feeling pretty uncomfortable. My husband, the boys and I watched a movie that night and by the end I decided that I had had enough of lying around. I was beyond ready to have my baby girl in my arms, so I thought that if I walked around a while the contractions might become stronger and more regular. No such luck!
I went to bed early that night and rested pretty well until about 4:30 a.m. The contractions had become so strong that they woke me. I didn’t want to bother my husband until I was sure, so I went to the living room to read and time the contractions. By the time I reached the living room, reading was not an option. It was all I could do to time the contractions. I soon realized that this was the real deal. According to my somewhat distracted efforts at timing the contractions were about two minutes apart. At that point I decided that it was time to wake my husband for some help with the timing.
I started to walk back to the bedroom to get him but had to stop before I even made it out of the living room. A very strong contraction stopped me in my tracks and I lifted the entire pack and play off the floor with my non-dominant hand. I woke my husband while kneeling through a contraction on the floor beside the bed. He quickly jumped to action and called the doctor’s on-call service to let them know my status and called my parents to have them come over to sit with the boys. The answering service told him that the doctor would call us back in few minutes.
I figured that I should probably use the potty before we got in the car, so I headed to bathroom. I ended up making a stop or two on the way in and out of the bathroom. I then had to stop and fight through another contraction while sitting on my oldest son’s bed. I made my way toward the back door. The contractions were right on top of each other at that point. I got as far as our dining room and couldn’t take another step. I lowered myself to the floor and had to lie down.
I told my husband that there was no way I could make it to the car. He started to get a little flustered when I told him that we could not wait on the doctor to call us and we most certainly couldn’t get to the hospital. Before the doctor had a chance to call back we had to dial 911.
The contractions were not that painful at that point but they were non-stop. As my husband was explaining the situation to the 911 operator I was trying to keep from pushing. The pressure to push was unbearable. I told my husband that I was going to have to push. The operator heard me and told my husband not to let me push because the EMTs were on the way. What?! How was I supposed to NOT push? I don’t think that the operator understood that not pushing was impossible. I mean there was no stopping it. I insisted that I had to push and the operator gave in and said that I could push. At that point the paramedics were still not near my house.
I pushed three times and it was all over. My sweet baby girl had arrived! My husband considers her delivery to be his greatest accomplishment. He caught her and wrapped her up in towels. He even sacrificed a shoelace from his brand new shoes to tie off the umbilical cord. I was of course concerned that the baby might not be breathing or healthy. The EMTs were still not there. We waited about five to ten more minutes before they arrived. It was a relief to have trained medical personnel there to reassure us that everything with baby girl looked great.
We were both loaded in the ambulance and taken to the hospital. Apparently accidental home births are a big deal at our hospital because as were wheeled in the ER folks lined the hallway and packed my room to gawk. It’s a good thing I’m not that bashful. We stayed at the hospital overnight and returned home the next morning. I had always worried that my water would break in public or that I might need to have a c-section. I never would have guessed that my husband would be delivering our baby in the dining room!
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