My Birth Story

I’ve imagined what it would be like to give birth for much of my life. The problem is, there’s not much information to base this imagination off of: Hollywood movies, watching Call the Midwife twice all the way through, and reading other women’s experiences. That’s about it. But truly nothing more could have prepared me for the insane experience of giving birth besides just doing it.

12/11/24: The most surreal, miraculous, intense day of my life. I now understand how women can go through so much discomfort, pain, and fear during pregnancy and childbirth, but still have the desire to do it again. I just feel so grateful myself and my baby girl Eleanor are healthy and thriving doing life together. It was absolutely the craziest thing I have ever done, I just hope I can do it justice as I retell the story. 

For the ten days before my scheduled induction on the 11th, I planned a fun date for Dallin and I to do together. We went to the movies, ate at a sit-down restaurant, hung out with friends, and did other things that I thought would be more difficult once our baby was earth side. 

Tuesday’s date was walking around the mall and getting lunch. I was feeling extremely pregnant that day— the pelvic pressure made walking feel nearly impossible. While walking around the Patagonia outlet, I got a phone call from the hospital. They asked if we could be at the hospital in 45 minutes! We knew going in for my cervical ripening could happen earlier in the day, but that phone call of a sudden made things feel a whole lot more real! So we picked up some Chick-Fil-A, ran home, packed up those last minute things, and drove five minutes to the hospital. We got to the hospital around 4:00pm on December 10th. After getting all checked in, we were admitted to the room I would be delivering in. It was a crazy feeling knowing that soon the baby bassinet would be outfitted with my daughter. 

Around 7pm, after being checked in and getting my IV all set up, they started me on Cervadil. It looks like a small, flat tampon and it’s used to help your cervix soften and thin out before pushing Pitocin for the actual induction. As they placed it, the nurse checked my dilation and I was 1cm and 80% effaced, as I had been for 2 weeks at this point. My doctor had said not to expect the Cervadil to put me into labor, but the nurses were optimistic that I would start contracting that night. We had my final meal before the induction, Costa Vida, and went to bed around 10pm. I woke up at midnight with my first contraction. I had been having Braxton Hicks for weeks up to this point, but this contraction definitely felt different. It was centered in my back, and felt like a deep, aching pain. Ten minutes later, another one came. I texted my mom saying I think I just felt my first contraction! At this point, they were painful, but I was able to fall asleep in between. I wasn’t expecting it to be so focused in my back, though. Things that helped manage the pain at this point were: breathing in and out for equal counts, and using my fist to massage my back at the peak of the contraction. I labored laying down in the bed like this until 5am, at which point I think I was moaning a little bit and woke up Dallin. He was excited that I was having contractions, and we were anxious to know if I had dilated over night. At the 12 hour mark of having the Cervadil, 7:00am, the nurse removed it and checked my dilation. I was really frustrated to hear I was only at a 2, and was 90% effaced. The strength of the contractions already felt like I should be much farther along! But I tried to be positive, because it was really the Pitocin that was supposed to dilate me. 

So thirty minutes later they started me on Pitocin. I’m not sure what the unit for the Pitocin amount is, but the nurse said it can go up to 20, and they started me at 4. For that first hour on Pitocin, honestly it was a much needed break from the Cervadil contractions. They were farther apart, and felt less intense. To cope with the pain during this hour, I laid in bed and listened to a hypnobirthing video on YouTube. It guided me through breathing, repeated affirmations, and helped me feel calm. During each contraction, I tried to distract my mind and I would go through each muscle in my body and clench it, then release it. Starting at my toes, up my calves, my thighs, abs, chest, shoulders, then face. I tightened each muscle for a few seconds, then released it. By the time I finished my whole body, the contraction would be over. This gave both my mind and my body a job to focus on instead of the intensity of the contraction. 

From 9:00-11:00am, I tried a variety of pain management techniques. At this point the pain was still primarily in my back, so counter pressure from Dallin felt really nice. I would sit on the exercise ball, and he would squeeze my hips together from behind. I also tried going on all fours on the bed and he would do the same. It wasn’t as pain relieving as I thought it would be, but definitely helped. At this point, my Pitocin had been doubled to an 8, and the contractions were 3-4 minutes apart, about a minute long. I had asked for cordless monitors so I wouldn’t have to be confined to the bed, and I was really glad for them at this point. It was four little stickers put on my belly that monitored my baby’s heartbeat, and my contractions. Being detached from the machine (besides my IV) made it really convenient to move around the room, and try different positions. I had every intention to get into the tub at some point to relieve pain, but wanted to wait until things got a little more intense. 

One of my favorite moments of the whole birthing experience was during this hour. Dallin had asked all my siblings and my parents to write me notes of encouragement that I could read while in labor. It was honestly one of the nicest things he has ever done for me, and I’m not sure where he got such a sweet idea! I remember sitting on the birthing ball, breathing through contractions, and then opening a note from my mom. In the background, Noah Kahan’s “Call your Mom” was playing, and I just had this spiritual moment where I felt so incredibly supported by my mom, and my whole family, even though they weren’t actually there with me. I felt peaceful, and motivated to keep going. 

At 11:30am, my OB came in to break my water. I was still only at a 2, and felt upset that he was breaking my water so early. I had done research about the risks of breaking your water early, as it can increase the risk of infection the longer it’s broken. At this point, I had no reason to believe my labor wouldn’t be 24+ hours, so I was skeptical of his reasoning. He told me he felt confident that breaking my water would push my body over the edge and send me into active labor. I remember laying on the bed, and crying to my OB as I explained to him my desire to have an unmedicated, no epidural, birth. This had been my plan since the beginning of my pregnancy, but slowly gathered more fear around it the closer I got to delivering. At the beginning of my pregnancy, it was a goal I was excited to share with people, and discuss. Towards the end, and especially when I was told I had to get induced, I felt myself cringing when Dallin would share with people I wanted to give birth without an epidural. I felt like the more people that knew, the more people I would disappoint when I couldn’t do it. Also, I started noticing that people’s responses to me saying I wanted to do it “natural” were actually quite discouraging. 

“Why would you choose pain when you could just feel nothing?”

“I tried that and tapped out at ___ cm.”

“Oh man, good luck!”

“Just wait until you feel that first contraction!”

“You know you don’t have to do that.”

Among others. 

Discouraging comments came from doctors too, though. I felt pressured to have a good enough reason to want to try to go unmedicated. Like just wanting to experience all that natural childbirth has to offer isn’t enough. I was told being induced with Pitocin makes contractions way more painful, so it’s much more likely for me to need an epidural. And that as a first time mom being induced, I would be in labor for 24-36 hours and wouldn’t have the energy reserve to do it without an epidural. 

So as I laid there, moments before having my waters broken, I cried to my OB about feeling my dream of an unmedicated birth fade away. I had been in the hospital for over 15 hours at this point, and had only progressed to 2cm. It felt extremely daunting to get all the way to a 10 at the pace we were going, with the pain I had already experienced. He told me he would support whatever ended up happening, and that I didn’t have to decide at this point. 

Then, he took out that long crochet hook-looking stick and broke my water. It felt like warm water was just oozing out of me. I had no idea what to expect for my contractions after this point, but was honestly hoping things would ramp up. 

And ramp up they did. 

The first contraction after my water broke was intense. I tried to use to the word “intense,” rather than “painful” during labor to redirect the energy to a more positive mindset. But now that I’m not giving birth, I’ll just say it was PAINFUL. I was still laying on the bed from having my water be broken, and [spoiler alert] I did not move from this position until my baby was born. I had every intention to continue moving around the room while laboring, get in the tub/shower, and try different positions. But once these contractions started, I was pretty much paralyzed in the fetal position. This is when Dallin was truly my rock. Especially as I think back to it now, he was so helpful in helping me endure through this. 

In one hand, I gripped a hair comb, with the bristles digging in my palm as I squeezed it to direct my mind elsewhere, and in the other hand I held Dallin’s hand where I’m told I dug my nails into his knuckles… As each contraction began, Dallin would repeat the same phrase, “Okay Alysee, here comes another one! Let’s count to 15, and we’ll be at the peak. 1… 2… 3…” During which I would be holding a deep groan. When we got the peak of my contraction, he would encourage me that I had done the hardest part, and count down from 15 until my contraction was over. In between contractions, I was completely entrapped in the zone. My eyes were closed the entire time, and 100% of my focus was on breathing, and maintaining that low groan. If I ever let out a scream or higher-pitched squeal, Dallin would remind me to direct my energy down, and moan in a low register. I had done research about how higher pitched screaming induces panic, and displaces the energy needed to move your baby downward. So we had quite the method down. And time was extremely warped at this point. I had no concept of how long I had been laboring, how long my contractions really were, or how long in-between them. I was 100% focused on getting through each surge of pain. 

Towards the end of my pregnancy I started feeling really sad that it hadn’t ever worked out to get a midwife or doula. With the job hunt constantly being under way, there was the looming possibility we wouldn’t be living in Utah when I gave birth, so I never felt comfortable switching to a midwife practice or investing in a doula. But as it became evident that we would still be unemployed and living in Utah when the baby came, I felt sad that I wouldn’t have a doula on my birthing team. But I can honestly say now, post birth, that there is no one else I would have wanted in that room. For me, giving birth was an absolute mental game. It was me, myself, and I getting through each surge of pain. Dallin did what he could, and 100% helped me feel supported, but it was such an individual journey that I’m honestly not sure how a doula could have improved the experience. So I am grateful for everything working out the way that it did. 

Okay. Back to the story. I’m in 10/10 pain, laying on the bed, in the zone, and it’s been an hour. I am completely convinced I am still at 2cm dilated. I didn’t have any reason to believe I was further along, because I had been at a 2 for soooo long at this point. Something suddenly switched in my mind, and I lost all confidence in myself. I honestly felt like I could not do it. I could not go any longer. In between contractions, I looked at Dallin and said, “I actually can’t do this. I want an epidural. I’m serious, I feel okay about it, I just want an epidural.” I didn’t know how Dallin would respond to this, because we had talked at length about how to tell if I ACTUALLY wanted an epidural, or if I was just saying that. But I think he could tell that I was ready to tap out. He said it was super hard to see me in pain, so at that point my previous desires didn’t really matter. When the nurse came in a few minutes later, Dallin asked her for the epidural. She said okay, but that the anesthesiologist was in surgery and wouldn’t be ready for another 45 minutes. Hearing that was the worst news of my life. Once I had made up my mind about getting the epidural, it was all I could think about. The relief it would bring me. I honestly felt like I could not do it anymore, mostly because I still thought I was at a 2, and if THIS was 2cm contractions, no way I could endure contractions at 10cm. Or so I thought :)

In hind-side, I was totally in transition at this point. Transition is the final phase of active labor, when your body dilates beyond 8cm. It is the most intense, and from all my research and classes, I heard multiple times it is the phase when women say “I can’t do this,” and ask for the epidural. It’s pretty crazy because I totally felt this shift.

At 12:30pm, one hour after my water had been broken, and a few minutes after asking for the epidural, I asked if there was anything I could do while we waited. The nurse suggested fentanyl. I had previously been against any drug that would make me feel sleepy at the time of delivery, but at this point I was prepared to accept anything they could offer. The nurse pushed fentanyl in my IV and I continued to labor in bed. The fentanyl was odd. It didn’t take away any of my pain, but it definitely took away any concept of time remaining. In between each contraction, I truly felt like I was taking a 10 minute nap. When in reality, they were still one minute or less apart! Dallin repeated the same phrases, and I did not move from the fetal position, comb in one hand, Dallin in the other, fan blowing in my face full blast. 

At 1:00pm, the fentanyl had worn off, and I was still convinced I was at a 2. But then something odd happened. All of a sudden, I had this contraction where I felt my body pushing. My low groans transitioned to deep grunts, and I couldn’t control it. My body was pushing my baby out! But how could this be? I thought I was still only 2cm dilated! A different nurse came in and heard my grunting and said, “What are you doing!” And I was like, “I don’t know, I feel like I need to push!” She responded, “I guess I should check you!” 

Before, when they would do a cervical check, it felt very tight and painful for the doctor’s or nurse’s hand to go up me. But when she checked me this time, I barely felt her hand slip up there. Still in my own world, I heard the nurse shout excitedly, “Holy sh--! You’re at an 8!” Dallin and I could not believe our ears! She asked if I still wanted the epidural, and I didn’t know what to say. I was so close. I could literally feel my baby coming out, but it still hurt so bad. The new nurse looked me in the eyes and said, “Let’s just do some practice pushes, I think they will relieve a lot of the pain.” I felt good about that. 

I asked for a mirror to be brought in, so I could see my progress. I had written in my birth plan that I wanted to try pushing on my hands and knees, or on my side. The nurse said I was totally welcome to do that, but she thought I might like starting on my back. I grabbed both my legs behind my knees, and waited for the next contraction. As it ramped up, I began pushing. Chin to chest, I silently pushed for three sets of 10 seconds. And boy was that nurse right! Pushing was such a relief from the pain. Yes, it still hurt, but I felt like I could finally do something with all that pain. Even on that first pushing contraction, we could already see baby’s head! That was the moment I realized I was going to achieve my dream of giving birth without an epidural. She was right there. I was so close. And she had a full head of hair! 

For a couple more contractions, I pushed through them, and could feel my baby descending down the birth canal. They called my doctor, who was driving to another hospital and turned around at their call. When he got there, it was around 1:10pm. They got the bed ready for delivery (they took off the bottom portion of the bed so I was scooted up right at the end). The next few minutes are honestly a blur. It all happened so fast, I literally could not believe the time had actually come to meet my baby. 

I pushed through a few more contractions (yes, I pooped; no, it was not a big deal), until her head stopped slipping back up when I was done pushing. Eventually, her head just stayed there, and slowly stretched me out. At this point I had to focus on my breathe in-between contractions too, because the stretching sensation was so intense. The nurses, Dallin, and my OB were so encouraging that she would be here shortly. The nurse warned me that I was about to feel the “ring of fire,” when the largest part of the baby’s head is delivered. I had been so scared of this moment, having had heard many horror stories of it. I was coached to push long, slow, and hard as her head was born. And honestly, it was intense, but not as bad as I was expecting. My contraction ended, but everyone yelled at me to keep pushing, so I did one more push and BOOM. 

There she was. 

White, bloody, and screaming. 

My daughter. 

Eleanor Grace. 

There is truly nothing like feeling that initial relief of the baby fully exiting you, and seeing their lanky body squirming in the air. I guess I didn’t believe there was an actually a real human baby growing in me until that moment. It was indescribable. I couldn’t stop saying, “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh!” I felt so proud of myself for actually having given birth without an epidural. I had prepared so much for this goal of mine, but it often felt impossible to achieve. I am so grateful to have had the opportunity to be 100% present and feel the whole experience. 

We waited until the cord stopped pulsating, then Dallin cut it, and I delivered the placenta. From Dallin’s observation it was a bloody event.  Then came the terribly painful part, that I was not as peaceful during: sewing up my stitches. I had torn in two places, both second degree, and I could feel every bit of them. My OB numbed me up with lidocaine, but I honestly don’t feel like that did anything. It hurt SO bad as he stitched me up for a solid 20 minutes. And it felt extremely unnatural to see and feel the thread piercing my skin and pulling through me. I lost quite a bit of blood, which contributed to the events of the next 48 hours. 

We had a beautiful two hours with baby Nora laying on my chest, breastfeeding for our first time, and sitting in the awe that was the last 24 hours. Every 30 minutes they came in and pushed on my belly (extremely painful) to help my bleeding and contract my uterus. After the first hour they weighed, measured and did some tests on her. She was perfectly healthy! APGAR scores of 8 and 9. 6lbs 2oz and 18”. Everyone was shocked she was above 5lbs! My baby girl must have had a growth spurt in those last few weeks. 

After those two hours. I tried to stand up to walk to the bathroom, but fainted in the arms of the nurse. They ended up having to put in an intermittent catheter, which was uncomfortable, but nothing compared to giving birth haha. I was extremely lightheaded for an entire 48 hours, and we weren’t allowed to leave the hospital until I could use the bathroom by myself, which ended up being Friday morning. 

I actually didn’t mind being in the hospital for so long, it was comforting having nurses check in on us every couple hours. Dallin, on the other hand, was ready to get out of there after the first night of sleeping on the notoriously uncomfortable couch-bed. For the first couple times breastfeeding, she had a hard time latching so we finger fed her with a syringe of colostrum I had pumped. By the time we left the hospital, though, we were both getting much better at feeding!

The drive home from the hospital was equally as surreal. Even though she had been with us for a few days at that point, it was so wild bringing her home with us. The start of a totally new phase of life. 

When it’s 3am, and we’re staring into each others eyes, I literally just can’t believe how much I love her. She is the product of me and my eternal love, Dallin. She is just the most perfect baby I have ever seen, and I love her so much. At the hospital when they gave her first bath, she screamed through the whole thing. I cried during the whole thing, too, because I hated seeing her in discomfort. I only want Eleanor to know goodness and love in this world. I never want her to be hurt, or feel anything but joy and contentment. I often remind myself when I am frustrated with her or a situation she’s put us in (like diarrhea blasting on me and my pillow case and sheets at 1am), that she doesn’t know any better. She is going from all the perfect conditions of my womb— warmth, constant nourishment, soothing sounds, etc.—to a world where I’m trying my best, but she’s bound to feel occasional discomfort. Sometimes I wish she was still in my belly so I could protect her from the cold, and other trials a baby faces. I didn’t have to do much to protect her when I was pregnant, but now the responsibility of providing her with a safe home is a one that heavily looms over me. 

My last thought is that I have thought a lot about the baby I miscarried two Octobers ago. That baby, taken from me too early, was grieved by Dallin and I for many many months. As their due date in July came up, I thought about how different our lives could have been if the pregnancy was viable. But truly the most healing thing for my miscarriage is having a baby earth side. I wonder who that baby would have been, what they would have looked like, and think of the inevitable joy they would have brought to our lives. It makes me sad, but only for a moment, because now I have another Heavenly angel sleeping soundly next to me, reminding me of the miracle that life is.