the day you were born

it’s 3am in the morning and I’m

lying in this uncomfortable hospital bed watching you sleep.

part of me is still in disbelief at the past 24 hours, part of me feels like your a little old-soul, like me, that I’ve been meant to know my whole life and how could I have not known you any sooner.

your mama is exhausted, so the story of your birth below is going to be written over several days, snippets of time where I can stop staring at your sleeping face long enough to form the words that I feel sum up the whirlwind of emotions and love your daddy and I are feeling.

The reality is there are so many words one could say but here are the most important: I am so humbled and am in total awe of you. I am proud of my body for growing, carrying, and delivering you. I am so thankful for the team at the hospital we had. And lastly, you are the most precious, inspiring, wonderful thing that has ever happened to your daddy and I, and we are over the moon in love with you for today and always.

I woke up the morning of Wednesday January 12, 2022 around 2am to go to the bathroom and then went straight back to bed. At 3:30, daddy’s alarm went off for work, we both stirred, said good morning, and talked in bed for a bit. I was the first to get out of bed, and took about 3 steps before I stopped suddenly and stood there, puzzled. Tim noticed and frantically asked “what is it? what’s wrong?” and I slowly replied… “I think my water just broke.”

We called the doctor, who recommended trying to get some rest and advised to call back when contractions hit 8-10 minutes apart. Daddy got dressed for work, set me up with the contraction timer app, and then mama had some yogurt and then tried to lay back in bed. After he left, contractions started and right off the bat, 5 minutes apart. They weren’t intense, mama could walk around and talk through them still, but unable to sleep with so much excitement, I took a shower. When contractions hit 3 minutes apart, I called the doctor who told me to come in, so daddy headed home. Aunt Caitlin ended up coming over, nervous about how close the contractions were and helped load mama and the bags in the car. On the ride down, daddy told me as he picked up gramps for work, “All American Girl” played on the radio, and he knew it was going to be the day we met you. Contractions started to get a little more intense, and as we pulled in to the hospital at 7am, Mama was almost done braiding her pigtails. When the nurse walked in the room, I still was braiding, so they weren’t so sure if really was in labor.

After meeting Chris, our nurse, and being monitored for an hour (there were about 2-3 contractions within a 5 minute span at this point) Chris said I was there to stay. At first check by Jeannine, the midwife, I was 6cm! From that point on, though, I didn’t feel like moving from the hospital bed, so daddy held my hand and thanks to encouragement from him and advice from Chris, we very very quickly were at 8cm. They wanted to give me an IV for fluids, because I had been throwing up some, and I had actually requested some pain meds for a little break before pushing, but they weren’t able to get the IV after 2 or 3 tries and at 9.5cm Chris told me it was almost time to push, and I was going to do this all natural!

At 9:35am Jeanine came back in the room and I started pushing. It was honestly a relief to feel like I could have a release from the pain and pressure. Between every contraction, daddy would give me sips of ice water, which he spilled all over me about every time. Jeannine told me to try for 3 pushes each contraction and to not breathe out while pushing, to channel all that energy into the push. Motivated as ever to finally meet our girl, I tried each time to do 4 pushes. It was hard work, and I tried between contractions to lie back my head and rest every muscle in my body.

With Tim’s hand on my back I could feel just immense love and support being channeled over me. Chris and Jeanine, the nurse and midwife, rounded out the 4 people who were in the room as you were born, and honestly, we were so tremendously blessed with so much support and encouragement from them. You daddy used the word “empowering” to describe it and I can’t think of a better word. They were genuinely excited and compassionate and both mothers themselves, so encouraging, saying “that’s a girl” and “that’s your push, Courtney!” over and over and over.

At 10:48am, you were born. You didn’t shriek or cry like we had expected, or at least seen in movies — instead you let out a few whines and once you were put on mama’s chest, you were completely at peace. The instantaneous love we felt for you was overwhelming. I know not every mama feels that, but honestly, as you grew inside me of course you were my baby, but until I held you on the outside, I never realized how much someone could love someone they just met.

You were and are still absolutely beautiful, we knew it from the moment we laid eyes on you. You were so determined to be here you came 9 days early, but right on time. You were also so at peace, you didn’t fret much at weigh-in or at any time during our hospital stay, really. Just a content, healthy little baby. We felt and still feel so enormously blessed.

In those first few hours your daddy and I took turns holding you up against our skin, taking the first thousand of many thousands of pictures of you, and just staring at you, then looking up and staring at each other. We made you. You were ours. You were finally here! We could not stop smiling, it was a moment in time we only wish we could freeze and relive over and over and over.

We left the hospital and headed home a little over 24 hours later, the afternoon of Thursday January 13th. The whole first night at the hospital, we did the exact opposite of what everyone recommends and we hardly slept. Watching you sleep, so peacefully, was what we had waited 9 months and then some for. We didn’t want to miss a moment.

Ever since you came home, time has flown. The days truly go by so fast, but remembering your birth is so important to both of us, we wanted to make sure we write it out so that we never forget what an incredible, joyous, wonderful day it was. Truly, one of the very best of our lives. We love you so much, Ellie Jo.