The Birth Story of Poet Love, My Third Daughter by Erika James

When I think back on the past few days and Poet’s birth story, there’s a whirlwind of emotions…

Strength.
The soulful kind. the kind of strength that connected me to my demons and my warriors.

Vulnerability
We made love incarnated. but so much is out of our hands when that heart beats outside the safe walls of my womb.

Love.
Why does this word not seem like enough?

Awe.
This life. our bodies. our power.

Labor
On February 21st, I texted Garrett around 5:00pm, “Feel like I’m feeling a little extra back and low pressure but also feel like it’s just her positions and she’ll be in there for another week lolll.” I was hyper aware of any subtle change or feeling in my body because I knew labor could start any day, but I also didn’t want to get excited in case it was nothing. I tracked my first contraction in my Notes app on my phone at 7:10pm that same night. It was honestly an hour or two before I was willing to accept these were contractions that I was feeling. I was in denial because I didn’t want to get ahead of myself and get excited if it wasn’t the real deal, and the contractions were all over the place in terms of time, so that confused me.

We put our two daughters down for bed, still unsure of what I was experiencing. And over the next couple of hours, the contractions were forming a pattern, increasing in intensity, duration, and frequency. I kept walking around my house because that kept the contractions progressing. If I sat down, they would slow down. And I was ready to have this baby! So, Garrett and I spent the next couple of hours packing bags, setting up the girls for school in the morning, tracking contractions, watching “Perfect Match” (a horrible Netflix show), and trying to time out when we should ask his mom to come over and stay with the girls. I wanted to head to the hospital close to the “511” rule, so it was a waiting game.

I could feel each contraction coming on like a wave. It would build in intensity, peak, and then slowly fade away. I tried explaining to Garrett what a contraction felt like, and my best was this…a bowling ball is trying to escape from your stomach through your butt.

Pretty accurate.

Around midnight, my contractions were consistently happening every 6-8 minutes, and each contraction was lasting 50-60 seconds. So we called my mother-in-law to head over. The hospital was only 5 minutes from our house, but I underestimated the time it took to park, walk, and get admitted. We couldn’t find the right parking lot, so we were walking in the windy, freezing cold, walking too far, while I had to stop for each contraction. By time we got in, I was worried I would be too late for an epidural, and the contractions were pretty intense.

The nurse checked my dilation, and I was already 6-7cm dilated.

She said we earned our stay, and they got me set up in a labor and delivery room right away.


Epidural
I had actually considered an unmedicated birth, but I ultimately decided to go with the epidural. It’s such a personal decision, and the more I reflected on it, I just knew I would be my best self if I felt rested for baby girl. And I’m so glad I did.

The anesthesiologist asked me about complications with my first two epidurals (I had a somewhat traumatic experience my first time), but he seemed so confident that this would be easy and worth it. He administered the epidural so quickly and effectively.

It took another 5 contractions or so until I could feel it taking effect. And once I wasn’t feeling those contractions anymore…I was so thankful for the decision I made to get it.


Time to Push
Around 3:00am, they checked my dilation again, and I was 9cm. They said my bag of water was coming out of me, and Poet’s heart rate was dropping. It was time to break the water. I felt a gush, and then it was time to push. It all happened so fast!

They immediately coached me into a position. I had an amazing team of women advising me on how and when to push, and we went for it.

I struggled.

This was harder than my experience pushing River, so I was feeling frustrated and fatigued. I had been trying several positions, but my pushing felt ineffective. One of the downsides of an epidural is that you can’t feel the pushing you’re doing. I was trying to visualize an effective push, but to actually execute the push was so challenging because I felt numb.

The doctor told me they may need to use a vacuum because her hear rate was dropping. She warned that the vacuum has risks, as with everything, such as abrasions to the head, but it’s rare. I trusted her and kept pushing as hard as I could.

My body was shaking. And physically, I wanted to give up. But in between each contraction, I would close my eyes and talk to myself…

Deep, slow breaths.
You can do this, Erika.
This is how you meet Poet.

And then we’d push.


Birth Team
It was only Garrett and I this time, which was new for us. We also had the best team of doctors and nurses with us. Garrett joked after that he didn’t even know what to do or say because he felt like all these women surrounding me were professionals at cheering me on. The nurses were so encouraging, positive, and one kept calling me Mama. They were just what I needed. But having Garrett by my side…he’s my person. His cheers and support pierced through the noise for me.


Earth Side
All of a sudden, my OB was using the vacuum. Looking back, I believe she had to make a quick decision because Poet’s heart rate was dropping. And when Poet came out, her body was so limp. Time suspended as they lifted her lifeless looking body out of me, and I felt this slow loss of control. They rushed her over to the baby warmer station where a NICU team was waiting.

This was the moment, in my first labors with our first two daughters, that Garrett and I broke down together in elation. But this time, we looked at each other, unsure and vulnerable in this magnified moment.

She cried.
She cried so loud.

We did it.
They did it.
They brought her over to my chest for our Golden Hour.
Poet Love Yoshiko James

The OB came over and held my hand. She looked overcome with emotion, which surprised me, and I’ll never forget how she looked me so dead in the eye, full of relief, celebrating that we did it. It was so sincere, and it made me feel like she must’ve been afraid at one point.

Later, she explained that Poet was face up in the canal, which made the pushing more difficult. She was trying to turn her face down. And the vacuum became necessary when her heart rate dropped to 50 bpm.



Postpartum
This word, “postpartum,” has some negative connotations. It’s often associated with depression, anxiety, challenging shifts, exhaustion, and more. And these were all true for me in previous births. But I’m going to be so annoying and promise you that it can actually be beautiful.

And I know that sometimes there are circumstances beyond our control that make this period of transition so overwhelming. It took me until my third babe, but I found a sacred postpartum. This is my third birth. I did not tear or need an episiotomy. I’ve been so connected to Poet throughout the pregnancy, and I’ve been curating a perspective of gratitude and spirituality surrounding the entire journey, from pregnancy to labor to postpartum. I’m reveling in this time transformation as we find our balance.


So here is where I am.

My first baby was a game-changer. She turned my world upside down.
My second baby was double the challenge. I had two under two.
But the third. This is our dessert baby.

I’ve done this before. Nothing is a surprise. I take each change in grace.

I embrace this new soft, squishy tummy that my daughters like to poke and snuggle. I know it’s temporary.
I take these engorged, painful breasts in stride because I know it’s temporary.
I hold Poet in my arms throughout the night because I know it’s temporary.
I take way too many pictures because I know it’s temporary.

And we’ve been lounging around the house, allowing ourselves to really soak into this change.

It never should have been about “bouncing back” or proving how soon you can take baby out into the world like you didn’t just go through battle. Because you did. You went through it. And this is the time for you to love on your baby, love on this new evolution of yourself, and surround yourself with people who will take care of baby and Mama.


The End
It took me four years (River is four) to decide I wanted another baby.
This trio of girls was always our story.
I’m just now seeing it.

No matter where you are in your life, don’t accept it as absolute.
We are always evolving.
We are on roads that we cannot yet see.
And there is more meant for us.

Poet, tell me a story.
Make it your own.
Find the right words.
And let them spill on to pages.
Be authentic.
Find awe in the small, the big, yourself.
And breathe into those stories.
Because this life is as short as it is long.

I’m Erika James, and I am a soon-to-be mama of three girls. I resigned from my middle school Language Arts teaching job last June when my husband and I realized how quickly time was slipping through our fingers. Our girls were growing up before our eyes! But even when my priorities in life change, I still find my way back to writing. I started my Mama-ish blog to create a community of stories on motherhood, womanhood, and the road to finding, meeting, and loving our evolving identities.

Website: mama-ish.com
Instagram: @the_mamaish