Our home + hospital birth story
While this blog is mostly professional, I felt called to share my, very personal, birth story here. It’s long, but the writing and sharing process has been both reflective and healing, and I hope if you take the time to read it all the way through it will provide you with some insight or inspiration too.
And while this is more personal than some of my other posts, it’s not really off-brand: I’ve used the metaphor of birthing a business in my coaching work for many years now, taking clues from our physical gestation process and applying them to birthing businesses, programs and other creative projects.
Since having my son, I’ve had many more thoughts on this metaphor and look forward to sharing those insights at a later date!
Flynn’s birth was hands down the most physically, mentally and emotionally challenging experience of my life: over 48 hours of labor, including 5+ pushing.
And while I had no expectation that labor and delivery would be easy, the level of intensity surprised me. The physicality of the experience surprised me. And of course us ending up at the hospital surprised me.
Flynn has been full of surprises since the day he was conceived, so I guess it’s on brand for him ;)
And surprises aside, I did end up with the unmedicated, vaginal birth I had hoped for and for that I am grateful and proud. He is healthy. I am healthy and healing. We are finding our way as a family of three and I love learning more about him every day.
The day before going into labor - very ‘full moon’ indeed
I was sure I’d go into labor early. Both Colin and I were born a whole month early, and so in many ways I was prepared for contractions to begin anytime after 36 weeks.
I also felt that our little guy had strong Taurus energy in him, which meant he would arrive on or before his due date (funny how things work out: he ended up as a Gemini sun but actually has more Taurus in his chart than if he had been born on his due date as a Taurus sun).
The last week or so of pregnancy was tough! While I loved being pregnant (SO MUCH!!), going past one’s due date can be a bit of a mind fuck (even when you know most first time moms go to 41 weeks + 3 days).
On top of the mental game (“Is everything okay?? When will he come??”) I got COVID. It wasn’t a bad case but did disrupt my sleep, which worried me as I wanted to be in good shape for labor.
THURSDAY 5/26
At exactly 41 weeks, contractions began early in the morning, around 3:30AM. I woke up and thought “Is this really, finally happening??” and waited until 8:30AM or so to wake Colin and tell him the good news.
We texted our birth team (our midwives and doula) and our families - it’s happening! Little did we know it would be nearly 48 more hours before Flynn would arrive earthside.
We stayed in bed a little while longer, then made pancakes. We puttered around the house and decided to go for a walk in the early afternoon, hoping the activity would help the baby along.
When we left for our walk my contractions were about 7-8 minutes apart, and they sped up with the movement. At this point I was feeling them and it wasn’t comfortable to keep walking through them. We’d stop, I’d hold onto Colin and rock a bit until it passed. It was about the time school was getting out and a bunch of teens passed up. I remember thinking “I bet they have no idea I’m in labor - ha!”
The walk did speed up the contractions and when we got home I hopped in the shower for some sweet hydratherapy. I think I got back in that shower at least 3 more times during labor. I kept my phone right outside the shower to continue timing the contractions - they were speeding up! 4-5 minutes apart. I felt more excited, especially because at this point the pain was super manageable (especially when in the shower).
This is where I start to lose track of time looking back, in awe of how long and many-phased this experience was.
Our doula, Kaely, told us to call her when we didn’t feel like we could continue on our own. Our midwives would come once I was in active labor.
At some point, Colin slept some. I didn’t.
Affirmations & baby photos of me and Colin for birth inspiration
FRIDAY 5/27
Around 3AM I woke Colin “I think it’s time to have Kaely come.”
My contractions were pretty consistent, but had slowed down, back to about 7 minutes apart. I thought she would be able to help us progress, and help me manage the mounting intensity of sensation I was feeling in my body.
Kaely’s arrival gave me a new wind of energy (which was needed, because at this point I had been awake for 24 hours). She encouraged us to try new positions to help the baby drop, including one where Colin would support me as I sat back in a chair shape (essentially a supported wall sit). We’d revisit this position later in active labor… and its part of the reason both of our legs were SO sore the next day.
Fast forward a few hours to sunrise on Friday AM and my contractions were still not coming any closer together, although they were slowly getting more intense. The midwives agreed to come to check on me and baby, and to see how far I was dilated.
No one was concerned at this point: it is completely normal for a first time mama to labor over 24 hours, especially when at home without interventions.
When our midwives, Sam and Ronit, arrived around 7 or 8AM they asked if they could do a cervical check and I agreed (my first of the pregnancy, and thank you practitioners who understand consent!). They determined I was 5 cm dilated. Both my vitals and baby’s vitals were good.
The hardest thing about my labor was feeling like I was stuck, like I wasn’t progressing. The midwives' arrival and this news was a boost as it proved to me that things were moving, even if it didn’t feel like it.
Since I still wasn’t in active labor, they decided to leave for a few hours to get some office work done. We all thought we’d have a baby by midnight. They encouraged me to rest as much as I could in between the contractions to save some energy for transition and delivery.
Again time escapes me. We did rounds of the Miles circuit, stairs and more to try to help this baby along. At some point, there was a tornado warning so we found our way to the basement.
There were also tears. Another layer of surrendering what I thought birth would be like, another layer of my ego shedding to allow the birth shaman to come through
Shout out to my friend Stephanie who made me a birth playlist which we had on repeat from here on out - there were many, many moments where the music gave me inspiration and strength to carry on when I didn’t think I could.
Sam and Ronit returned late in the afternoon (maybe 4PM). They checked me again and I was about 7.5 cm dilated. I was a little let down with the progress… I thought I’d be further along (10 cm is typically when you move into active labor and the ‘pushing’ phase), but they were not.
They were a little concerned with my energy. Let me remind you that at this point I had been awake and in labor for over 36 hours.
After consulting with one of their teachers, they suggested that I try a medicated sleep. They thought with a specific medication combination (Ambien and Tylenol PM) I’d be able to sleep through contractions and get some much needed rest so that I could deliver this baby without medication, without having to go to the hospital.
It sounded good to me… but also too good to be true. Would I really sleep through contractions?
The hour it took to fill the prescription (for the Ambien) from my local pharmacy was excruciating. The hint at rest made me realize how tired and worn down I was.
When Colin finally arrived with the drugs, I took them as fast as I could, ready to fall into a blackout of sleep.
Well, that didn’t happen, at least not totally.
I was able to sleep in between contractions, but I’d wake up with each one. In my stupor, I’d moan and someone would help me through the wave with hip compressions or repositioning the heating pad on my back. They also kept monitoring the baby to make sure he was still doing well and the little trooper was.
One of our midwives, Ronit, giving me hip squeezes during a contraction
Eventually I woke up, around 8 or 9PM. Did I feel well rested? Not really, but I definitely felt like I had more to give.
Throughout labor my goal was getting into the birthing pool. I thought if I could make it there, that meant we were close to pushing and from what I had heard pushing was hard work but also some fun. You could feel the progress and were so close to meeting your baby (unless, like me, you pushed for over 5 hours hahaha).
So I was thrilled when we all agreed we could set up the pool.
A little before midnight I got in the pool.
“Guess we’re not having a Friday baby!” I thought… but I was also reinvigorated: we’re close!
More hip squeezes & words of encouragement in the birthing pool.
SATURDAY 5/28
Pretty soon after getting in the pool I started to question if I was going to be able to do this. Contractions felt different than I had anticipated - I thought they’d be like strong menstrual cramps, or intense abdominal pain. Instead they felt more like I was being stretched, no torn, open, which make sense because opening is in fact what is happening.
Instead of bearing down through pain I had to learn to open to sensation. I acutely remember feeling very vulnerable, as if the physical opening I was undergoing was also opening me up on a spiritual, emotional and energetic level.
Right around 12:30AM I started to push. I had Colin get in the pool with me - we were all convinced I was having that baby soon, and I wanted him (Colin) to be prepared to catch our son.
All he ended up catching was my poop :) And bless Colin - while I knew I had pooped, I wasn’t really aware of it (or the fact that we were hanging out in poopy water). I was in labor land! He was not but still stuck it out with me.
Shortly after we got in the pool, my water broke with a push. I didn’t really feel much but Colin said he felt it! This was encouraging, another step closer to our baby.
With pushing it was a relief it was to have something to “do”... but like with riding the contractions, it felt a lot different than I expected. Much of this phase I felt like we were hitting a wall, like the baby was stuck and my efforts weren’t doing much to move him.
When we thought Flynn was coming
After maybe 30 or 45 minutes, Sam and Ronit suggested we move out of the pool and into the bedroom, where we remained for the rest of our time at home.
Back in the bedroom, I tried it ALL: the birth stool, the toilet, supported squatting with Colin, on hands and knees, on my back… and probably some other positions I’m forgetting now. I was game to do anything that would move this baby out… except when Ronit suggested we turn on some upbeat music and try dancing… that was a hard NO ;)
This went on for literally hours. I was sweating. Colin was sweating. I’m sure our birth team was sweating. This birth was hard work!! Props to Mr. Flynn - he stayed strong the entire time (again the midwives were closely monitoring him).
Somewhere in the midst of pushing, Flynn passed meconium (ie he pooped!). This is a ‘yellow flag’ as my midwives shared - it’s not something that requires immediate hospital transfer or intervention, but can pose a risk to the baby the longer he’s still inside.
Despite all our hard work, Flynn wasn’t crowing, in fact it did seem like he was stuck - no matter the position or effort, he wasn’t making moves. And my contractions seemed to be weakening - while they were definitely still coming at regular intervals, it was getting harder and harder to find the strength to push with them.
At a little after 4AM (now I’ve been in labor for over 48 hours!), the midwives had a pow wow. They returned and shared that they think Flynn might actually be stuck behind my pubic bone, and that this would be a great scenario to use a vacuum to help him along… but they (as midwives) are not licensed to use this device at home.
With the length of time I had been laboring, and the fact that he had passed meconium, and that I had tested GBS+, plus this hunch that he might be stuck, they were suggesting that we transfer to the hospital.
I was devastated to hear this - I had dreamed for years of welcoming my child into the world at HOME, and for the last 9 months had been planning to birth with this incredible team of support - but at this point I was completely exhausted and truly all I wanted was for my baby to be delivered safely.
So to the hospital we went.
48 hours into labor and 4 hours into pushing
Thank goodness I had packed a hospital bag (just in case!), and we already had our infant car seat installed. Colin grabbed the bag, someone put clothes and shoes on me and we made our way down the stairs and out to the car.
This was a herculean effort given I literally had a baby coming out of me. Maybe he wasn’t crowning, but it sure felt like he was, and as soon as we started moving my contractions picked back up.
Colin drove and Sam rode with us (just in case kiddo decided to come while we were en route!). I was in the back seat, on my knees, hugging the headrest of the seat.
I knew it was 11 minutes to the hospital and this was probably the longest 11 minutes of my life. When we pulled up to the ER, Colin rushed in to get help and let them know I was deep in labor.
I pulled out my theatrics (okay, it wasn’t really theatrics!!) and as soon as I got out of the car screamed “I'M HAVING A BABY RIGHT NOW!” at least three times.
They tried to get me in a wheelchair (hello, has anyone tried sitting while in labor, especially past transition? Literally not possible.) - like in the car I got on my knees and held the back of the chair. Someone whisked me to triage while Colin gave the staff my information. Then I was transferred to a gurney and wheeled upstairs to labor and delivery.
Because of COVID, I was only able to have Colin come with me (no midwives or doula). Luckily we had some lovely nurses attend us, and the on-call OB actually knew Ronit, which I took as a sign from the universe that we were in good hands.
Maybe it was the car ride or all the activity at the hospital, but when the doctor examined me Flynn was there, crowning. So she said “let’s have your baby” and that’s what we did. Maybe 5-10 big pushes later and he shot out all at once. It was the most wild sensation feeling him leave my body like that.
Less than one hour after leaving for the hospital, and more than 50 hours after labor started, Flynn Atlas Callahan was born at 5:56AM on Saturday, May 28th 2022.
We had planned for delayed cord clamping, and immediate skin-to-skin**, but because of the meconium he needed to be suctioned (the risk is for babies to swallow the meconium and they can get sick). There was a team of neonatal nurses ready in the room and, after cutting the cord, Colin watched as our son was cleaned up.
I couldn’t see him but my eyes were fixed on the huddle around him, even as the doctor told me we were going to deliver my placenta**. I heard him cry right away - a good sign! - and asked Colin “Do you see him? Is he okay?”
And he was.
After what felt like forever but was probably only a few minutes, a nurse brought me our baby boy and everything else fell away. I was bleeding quite a bit and needed stitches, but the only thing I could focus on was the tiny human in my arms.
He was finally here. He had ten fingers and ten toes, a teeny bit of hair that appeared reddish (a not-so-secret wish of mine!), and he latched onto my breast right away.
**Even in the whirlwind, our doctor acknowledged our desires, while also explaining her recommended course of action with the birth and after birth given the circumstances. I appreciated this care, especially given the emergent nature of our hospital birth.
Finally, Flynn arrived!
We remained in L&D for an hour or two - like I mentioned, I was bleeding quite a bit (likely due to the long labor and pushing phase) and so the doctor needed that to ease up before she could send us to the postpartum floor.
Colin called the birth team and our parents to let them know the good news. Eventually we were transferred to our room, where we spent the next 24 hours resting and being with our little guy.
As mentioned previously, another “risk” factor I had going into the birth was that I tested positive for GBS and chose not to treat with antibiotics. Because of this, Flynn had some additional monitoring at the hospital (which our midwives would have done as well, if he had been delivered at home). He was completely fine.
We did keep Flynn’s placenta, but chose not to consume it or encapsulate it, also because of the GBS. It currently resides in our freezer and we’re planning to bury it in a special place at a future date. The hospital wouldn’t keep it for us while we were there. Bless my mother who came to pick it up (she’s not the “eat your placenta” type!) and drop off a homemade meal, even though she wasn’t able to visit and meet her grandson (again: COVID restricted visitors).
On Sunday, May 29th around 10AM we were discharged.
We drove home - me in the backseat again, but this time calm, watching over our little man while he slept. One of our midwives came for a visit later that day. As we recounted our hospital tale to her, I couldn’t help but think how it all felt like one, strange trip…
One day old!
When taking psychedelics, I’ve heard it said “You don’t get the trip you want, you get the trip you need.”
Sometimes you get a beautiful, transcendent experience where you see your spirit guides and remember the magic of life. And sometimes you’re pulled into the underworld to face your fiercest demons.
With both trips, you emerge transformed. This was my experience with birth. Yes, there were moments that were beautiful and empowering, but mostly it was raw and physical and more intense than I could have ever imagined.
While at first I was disappointed, and also angry, to end up at the hospital, I’ve come to peace with this outcome. I now see that there was clearly a part of me that chose this path, and Flynn too.
I’m grateful that despite the challenging labor, I did get the unmedicated, vaginal birth I had hoped for. And even more than that, I’m so thankful that Flynn is healthy and that I have recovered well.
I thought the lesson of Flynn’s birth was surrender, but now I’m seeing it’s actually acceptance. And even more than accepting the terms of the experience, owning them.
I chose this wild path, we chose this path and it’s more than okay: it’s perfect.