“Late Friday morning, July 2nd, I got a call from my midwife with the results of the tests I’d been doing. We were trying to decide for the last 4 weeks if I had pre-eclampsia. I had been on the cusp. Blood pressure pretty high, protein in my urine, swelling like no tomorrow.

The words I’d cried about hearing over the last month spilled out of her mouth with remorse. “It would be best if you went to the hospital to get induced.”

So be it. I’d been making the best of everything that happened so far and I thought, perhaps, this day would come. And by God if this day was coming, I was going to choose which one it would be.

It wasn’t an emergency by any means, so I decided on that upcoming Tuesday… after the 4th of July celebrations, of course

The 6th of July at 9am, Jacob and I strolled into the hospital of choice for the first time ever.

I explained my situation a few times to a few different people, and suddenly I was hooked up to a couple machines, blood pressure being checked every 10 minutes, IV in my hand.

My nurses kept saying how sorry they were that I had to be there today. They were so sweet and caring and understanding of my unique situation. I just tried my best to be calm and remind myself that this is all going to end with a baby. My baby girl.

Finally, 4 pm rolled around and it was time. I was in labor and delivery, and they started me on my first drug of choice. The only medication to enter my body for 2 years or more at this point.

Then the real fun began as contractions started.

My body surged lightly for an hour or two before things started picking up a bit. The nurses kept coming in and saying “are you feeling those contractions?”, to which I replied, “Oh yeah! Keep ’em coming!” I was also repeating the phrase, “Give me more, I want more!”

In our birthing classes, our teacher talked about how the language we use during labor can change the way you perceive the situation, as well as the “pain” that we’re used to hearing about in labor. So I asked all my nurses to use the language I wanted, to which they happily obliged. I seriously can’t thank them enough for being willing to make my experience as close to normal for me as they could.

They started me up on drug of choice number 2 to keep things progressing. That’s where things started getting a little wild.

I started bleeding. At first, I thought it was my water breaking. It was not. The gushes kept coming, all of them blood, as my contractions got stronger and stronger.

I leaned on my mom so much, and I’m monumentally grateful that she was with me she was rubbing my back during the surges, and I was floating in and out of spirit space.

Labor was as grounding as it was illusory. Very surreal as the waves crashed on top of each other, over and over and over, each one stronger than the last until I really thought I couldn’t do it anymore.

I could hear the voices of several nurses, doctors, random people, talking about how much blood I was losing. “Should we take her to O.R.?” “She’s only at a 5.” “Maybe we should talk about getting her ready for surgery.”

I couldn’t reply much, just hear their words. At this point I didn’t care how my baby came out, I just needed her OUT.

I asked for the epidural. Something I never thought I’d do, but in my head, if I’m about to have a C-section, it better be as painless as possible. Besides that, they say I’m only at a 5?? If this is a 5, I don’t want to know what a 10 feels like.

But, of course, God had other plans…

As the voices around me were swirling the room, we awaited the anesthesiologist.

The waves kept hitting me back to back and were relentless. It felt like something bigger than me was taking over. I can honestly say it was less painful than it was overwhelming. I kept having out of body experiences when the surges hit me. I kept thinking “I can’t do this anymore. Where are those drugs??”

All the while, everyone around me was telling me how great I was doing and how strong I was. I just felt beside myself. Here goes my body, betraying me once again to make room for my baby, but this time it was preparing a grandiose exit for my little princess.

Finally, the anesthesiologist came back in, but not with the epidural. There had been some mistake in communication and she thought I had to be put under for a C-section! So off they sent her to get the right drugs.

Suddenly, as a contraction came over me, it brought with it a new sensation. My body just started ejecting, pushing for me as I sat there on hands and knees.

One voice told me not to push, that I wasn’t complete! Another asked me, “Ah, are you feeling pushy??” To which I replied, “Oh yeah”.

They checked me and, sure enough, this was the 10 I had been waiting for! My baby was coming whether I liked it or not!

A little too late, someone asked if I still wanted the epidural.

“F*ck it” I said, turning onto my back. I had made it this far!

Pushing was a relief. It felt so different from the surges, but that’s when I felt what I would definitely describe as pain. Of course, at that point, there was no going back.

So I pushed. I wasn’t planning on physically trying to pop her out, as that can create more tearing and strain on the good ole pelvic floor, but the nurses and midwives were talking vacuum extraction and forceps if she didn’t come soon since there was so much blood.

So with a mighty roar escaping my mouth with every wave, Jacob and my mom comforting me as best they could, Genevieve was born!

A magnificent volcano of blood and amniotic fluid erupted from my womb space, bringing with it my daughter into my waiting arms.

This is what love feels like.”

-Breckly (Mama)