Visits with my midwife had become weekly at our apartment, where I planned to give birth. My partner and I had gathered a team, laid plans, and obtained the things needed for the home birth I’d long dreamt of having, all while preparing our minds and hearts for what was yet to come.

Though I was content to still be pregnant, I was becoming increasingly eager to meet my baby and to do away with the mounting sense of anticipation that accompanied the final weeks of pregnancy. Who was this little person? How would their arrival unfold?

As a first time mom, I anticipated going over 40 weeks despite an inkling I had that baby would arrive before then. I was doing whatever I could to encourage the onset of labor; walking, being intimate, using my breast pump, eating more dates than is enjoyable, drinking red raspberry leaf tea, seeing a chiropractor… But I knew baby would come whenever they were good and ready so mostly, I waited.

I woke up on a Friday morning in my 39th week with a cramp and some spotting. I was delighted at the signs that my body was getting ready, but I knew this revealed very little about when labor would truly begin. I booked a session of prenatal acupuncture for Sunday morning as a treat. As the acupuncturist made her way out the door, I asked her whether I should expect anything to happen. She smiled slyly and reminded me that it would simply depend on the readiness of my body.

Back from a walk on Sunday evening, my partner and I were deciding what to eat for dinner. In between suggestions, I squatted down and felt an audible pop! Within seconds my waters had reached the kitchen floor. I was stunned and excited, but disheartened upon seeing that the liquid wasn’t clear but light green and I suspected meconium was present.

My midwife came over promptly. Upon inspection she confirmed it was in fact light meconium and noted that I was already 3cm dilated and 80% effaced. Assuring me that all was well, she left us with instructions to use the breast pump and a recipe for a castor oil concoction to stimulate contractions. We wanted to see baby out within the next 12-24 hours. I alerted my doula and hoped for the best.

By midnight, the measures we had taken were working! I was having increasingly strong and regular contractions. It was already apparent that I wouldn’t be getting much rest for the night as I alternated from bed to bathroom and back again. My partner began timing contractions when we suspected they were getting closer to being 3 minutes apart, 1 minute long, for at least 1 hour. When my midwife and doula listened to me labor over the phone, both said that they still seemed a bit short, so I resigned to laboring on my own a bit longer.

Only a couple of hours later, I could not take it any more! I had no sense of how far I might have progressed, or how far I still had to go, but I needed my team. It was at this moment that I was questioning my ability to make it through. It seemed contractions were one on top of another and I felt an overwhelming urge to bear down which I could hardly resist.

The team filtered into the apartment in the wee hours of the morning. When I was checked, I was immensely relieved to know I was fully dilated to 10cm and given the green light to push as I felt. Lying on the sofa now with my doula by my side, she rubbed me down with coconut oil, made sure I was fed and hydrated, and coaxed me to relax when I wanted nothing more than to tense up. At some point in all of this, the birth pool was filled and readied in the kitchen.

But, the contractions were coming at longer intervals, and after a short rest I would have to get up in order to keep them going. I retreated to the bathroom once again. This time with my partner, my doula, my handy breast pump, and some dark chocolate as I readied myself for the final stretch. There was a moment as my partner held me up from behind that I realized I needed to let go, and that I could let go as I was being fully supported in every way.

My contractions quickly regained strength and the baby’s head was just becoming visible at which point I made my way toward the water. I noticed that the sun was coming up. Here, the real dedicated pushing began as I worked up the nerve to give it everything I had, knowing that the only way out was through. I was on my hands and knees with my partner in front of me, doula beside me, and midwife behind me.

Before I knew it, the baby was out in one fell swoop! The relief was immediate. I glanced behind me and saw two little eyes that met mine as my partner announced that it was a boy. I lifted my leg as he was passed underneath me and brought him to my chest.

I have never known a moment like that one. It had all happened so quickly. He was here, healthy. I had made it. I had made him! I was buzzing and my eyes could hardly believe what they were seeing. After a few moments in the pool, I waddled with my baby in arms to bed to deliver the placenta. Lying there as a brand new family, the room came into focus and I looked up and saw my midwife’s shirt which read “Birth is powerful. Fear is normal. Women are strong.”

Daisy is a new mama, aspiring doula, and advocate for women’s reproductive health. She lives in Brooklyn with her partner and son.

Blinky’s Birth by Daisy McNairy