by Natalie Spring

Monday, February 2, 2009


Madeline was born at 41 weeks weighing in at a healthy 10 pounds. While she lingered in utero for a bit longer, when she decided it was time to be born she hurried on out in less than three hours.

I took the day off of work on the day Madeline was born. I had an appointment with the midwives, and I didn’t want to go into work and deal with the “so you haven’t had the baby yet” and “when are they going to induce you” conversations. Instead, I stayed home and cleaned, took a short nap on the couch, ran errands, and just generally tried to tire myself out. At my appointment Leigh Ann declared that I was indeed “a good four” and that she was rather stingy on her centimeters, so I should expect the baby anytime. I told her I wasn’t getting my hopes up, but okay. She reminded me to call the midwives if I started having contractions so that they could eat/rest in preparation for a middle-of-the-night labor. I dismissively agreed.

When I arrived at 5:45 p.m. to pick up my partner Harris from work I realized I might be in labor. Up until this point I thought I was just a miserable 41-weeks-pregnant woman who had gained 50 pounds and was having a hard time at life.

We were chatting with his coworkers when I realized that I was really having contractions and not cramps. I tried to time one on the lab timer, but while I counted 25 seconds, the lab counter timed it at 45 seconds. They all thought I was joking when I said I was having the baby that night, and they  kept on with their experiments. About five minutes later when Harris was done, another contraction had already started. We got back to his desk, I explained that I was having contractions and that HE should probably drive us home. As he drove through traffic,I was focused on getting home and lying down for a nap.

Once we got home I was only able to rest for about 2 minutes before I felt like I was going to lose my milkshake. I moved to the bathroom, and Harris brought me pillows and a blanket. Contractions started coming quickly and were starting in my abdomen and then moving to my back very quickly. It was very painful, and I had a hard time imagining this going on for 12 hours or more. Each time one would stop, another would start. Harris called the Birth Center to let them know that I had started having contractions. Sarah asked him (at 6:11 pm) how far apart my contractions were and how long they were lasting. Harris told her that we had just gotten home and that they seemed to not stop, but we hadn’t timed them yet. Sarah, anticipating a slow first baby, told him to time them for half an hour then call her back. As I lay on the floor another one was starting. He grabbed the first thing he found, a folder containing a Nintendo Power magazine (Super Mario Brothers 3 strategy guide) and a teal crayon. He timed each contraction running back and forth while putting away groceries and making sure bags were ready. I kept time on the clock and asked him to call Sarah. Time was so very important to me. I kept counting, kept watching the clock. When he spoke with Sarah he dutifully reported that the contractions were lasting about minute and were 2-3 minutes apart. She told him to get in the car and get me to the Birth Center right now. Be safe, but get here. Despite our birth classes, neither of us fully appreciated what was going on.

I jumped in the shower because in those childbirth classes we had learned two things that were very important to me at that moment:

1) Water makes laboring women feel better

2) The car ride is horrendous, mostly because there is no way to be comfortable and the loud noises you are making freak out anyone else in the car (i.e., the driver). Add to this any nausea, and you get a car ride from hell.

It sorta took the edge off. I hobbled out of the shower, and Harris brought me a cotton dress that really should have been a t-shirt. I covered this with a huge old jacket from high school and climbed into the backseat of the car. I might or might not have been wearing shoes. It was freezing cold outside, and I loved the chill on my skin. I laid my head in the previously unused car seat and squatted on all fours on the back seat while Harris drove us from Durham. I moaned into the car seat with each contraction and tried not to think about the nausea or the at best 20 minutes it would take us to get to the Birth Center. I figured at some point it would be 10 contractions, and I could totally do 10 contractions in the car, but then I lost count of how many contractions I had had.

I was so afraid that this was going to go on and on like this for hours. I just wanted to take a nap, and it seemed like that was not going to be an option for me. I was tired. I wanted a nap, damn it, and these contractions sucked. I thought I had mentally timed the trip from different intersections and turns, but when I looked up from the backseat, we were still not there. I saw Harris tailgating a car with the license plate reading “Aloha KC”. They were driving under the speed limit on a back road near the Birth Center. We were not there yet because of this a***. In the driver’s defense, it was dark, the road was curvy, and it was raining. I guess they were just being safe and didn’t realize that the car behind them held a woman in labor.

We finally got to the Birth Center, and I made a rather pathetic figure limping out of the car. A yoga class had just ended and some women were milling about the parking lot. I crawled out of the backseat, blood running down my leg, barefoot, ass hanging out, making all kinds of noises a woman coming out of a yoga class should never hear.

I felt like the biggest wuss in the world. Here I was saying that natural child birth was the way to go, that we were prepared, and that it would be great, but I couldn’t imagine how to cope with the contractions or how I would hold up for the next 10 hours. I crawled onto the bed, whimpering, and Sarah examined me. Fully dilated, baby’s head was down and currently trying to get past my pelvic bone, and we were going to have a baby. It was about 7:30pm. Harris asked her if he should get the stuff out of the car, and I asked her how far along I was because I didn’t think I could cope with this for very much longer. Sarah told us both that the baby would be born within an hour and that we were about to start pushing.

What we both thought was early labor in the car had really been transition. After that realization hit, that the worst was pretty much over and labor was NOT going to last like this for many, many hours, I felt a surge of relief and competence.

Cheryl gave me a birth ball and that made so much difference. I was exhausted but didn’t really feel like I had done very much. My body was doing all of the work, and it was my mind’s job to cope with that involuntary work. Mentally, I went to a very quiet place. They told me how to position my body, I told them how that felt. We talked, Harris brought me water, and every time I said, “Can we please just rest? I want a nap,” they encouraged me that I was about to nap with my baby. The moment of change was when I said, “I can’t do this,” and Cheryl whispered into my ear, “You ARE doing this.”

Sarah and Cheryl helped my legs into their shoulders, and sooner than I thought possible, my Madeline was born. When we looked up at the clock, after snuggling with our little girl, it was 8:30. Sarah was right. Sarah very jokingly and lovingly told me later that I was utterly ridiculous. Here I was, having my first baby in three hours, and that baby was an unexpected 10 pounds strong.


We chose to leave the Birth Center in the middle of the night so we could sleep at home. There was a light snow falling over Chapel Hill. We drove home to Durham with our daughter and were snuggled up eating peanut butter sandwiches by dawn.