I became a mom nine years ago today, after giving birth to my first daughter. Let’s just say she knows how to make an entrance, then again so does her sister. Both my girls have birth stories that aren’t all sunshine and roses, but then again whose is? So I get a good chuckle when people make a comment like, “I heard you have a crazy birth story, what happened.” I have to ask “which one?” Then their eyes get wide and I start to tell them the stories of my daughters’ births.

Both my girls were born early and spent time in the NICU at Duke. Their NICU care teams are outstanding! We joke that my body has a 5 lb eject button because my daughters' birth weights were 5 lbs and 5 lbs 2 oz, and they were born at 36 and 34 weeks. They weren't quite finished developing so they needed a little extra help adjusting to life outside my womb, and we are grateful to the NICU for providing that.

A few years ago I wrote about my second daughter’s birth on our bathroom floor and it was very cathartic. It has taken me longer to get to a place to write about my first. 

Early in the morning on Monday, January 13, 2014, I woke up with a sudden feeling that I was going to meet my daughter that day and sure enough, I did. What I didn’t know when I first woke up was that what I was feeling was contractions. 

I called my OBGYN to talk about what I was feeling, and since my due date was still 4 weeks out, she suggested that it was likely Braxton hicks and encouraged me to take a warm shower and try to get some rest. Well, my body had other plans. Partway into my shower, I realized I was having contractions and they were coming stronger and quicker, and it was time to get out of the shower and to the hospital.

After telling my husband it was time to go to the hospital, I called the doctor back to tell them we were coming. At the same moment, the person on the phone asked if my water had broken yet. As if on cue, my water broke right as she asked me that question. I had to laugh. After cleaning myself up, we sped up the process of leaving for the hospital. 

I don’t know how fast my husband drove us to the hospital, but I know it was faster than he has ever driven. He later shared I was making some crazy noises in the car and he knew we didn’t have much time. He was right.

Within minutes of entering the hospital, I was in a room getting checked out. We quickly learned that I was fully effaced and there was no time for meds. Our daughter was coming and coming fast. It had been less than 2 hours since I’d woken up with the initial pangs of contractions. Then the mood in the room changed. I remember being told to stop pushing, my baby was breech. She was trying to come out bottom first. 

I had no idea I was pushing, my body had taken over, so how was I supposed to stop? I remember having a death grip on the bed rail asking how to stop, and barely being able to talk. That’s when they said they had to do an emergency c-section.

I was quickly rolled into an operating room and transferred onto the operating table. Trying to sit up and sit still while they administered medication so they could perform the c-section was incredibly difficult and so very very painful. My body had taken over and I was writhing, so holding still felt nearly impossible. 

The next few minutes were a blur, and then my daughter made her debut and I was officially a mom! But they didn’t hand her to me to hold. Instead, I was told my daughter needed to be rushed to Duke or UNC’s NICU because she had a tear from her rectum to her vagina and she needed to see a specialist there right away. She needed an ambulance to take her there. And they wouldn’t take me with her. 

I chose Duke because that’s where I had been seeing some specialists. The care team cleaned up my newborn daughter and put her in a special NICU transfer “box”. And with some convincing from my husband, brought her to see me in recovery for a few minutes. But I still couldn’t hold her. She had to stay safely nestled in the transfer unit. It was time for her first ambulance ride.

My husband followed the ambulance to Duke and kept me informed. I told him to stay with her. Just stay with her. 

Amazingly, the team at Duke discovered that her tear was superficial and just needed some stitches. There were no internal issues. We later learned that her bottom likely swelled while stuck in the birth canal trying to come out bottom first, and then her skin split. How it split we will never know, there are multiple possibilities. 

It was such a relief that she didn’t need surgery, but the next few days sitting alone in a hospital bed in a different hospital from my newborn daughter were awful. My care team was great, my husband, my parents, and my in-laws all came to visit me, but I couldn’t hold my daughter, and I couldn’t see my daughter other than on a screen.

I ached in so many ways. I ached physically from the surgery and birth, and I ached emotionally for my child. 

The day she was born was the hardest. I didn’t want to eat. I had trouble sleeping. And my mind was full of worries and fears. 

Lactation consultants came and taught me how to use a breast pump and I set timers to pump, and pump, and pump. And the new grandparents took turns shuttling breast milk from me to my baby. The hospitals were just less than an hour apart. 

Then the NICU nurses had an idea. They sent a little felt butterfly for me to snuggle with, skin to skin. They told me to lay it on my bare skin, right on my chest. And then it too was shuttled back and forth so my baby so could “smell me” and I could smell her. That helped bring me a little out of my fog of frustration and pain. 

On the second day in the hospital, I started to get restless. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t be at the same hospital as my baby. I was told there were no medical reasons to transfer me from one hospital to another, and I had to recover from the c-section. But I was determined. I soon learned one of my discharge requirements was the ability to walk a certain distance unassisted, I believe it was a certain number of laps around the wing of the hospital. 

Suddenly, I had a goal. So between naps and pumping sessions, I forced myself out of bed and started walking. It hurt so much at first and it was frustrating how short a distance I could make it, even with assistance. But I had to walk in order to see my baby, and so little by little I walked. I even recall doing laps at 2 a.m. between pumping sessions when I couldn’t sleep.

The next morning, 48 hours after I gave birth, I convinced my care team to discharge me a day early so I could go see my baby (their protocol was to keep c-section mothers for 72 hours). I couldn’t wait any longer. 

I promised that I would ride a wheelchair to the car, then at Duke Hospital, I would again use a wheelchair to get from the front door to my baby. I had to see her. 

On January 15, I finally got to hold my baby. It was emotional. She was so tiny and she was connected to a lot of wires and machines monitoring her. I didn’t want to let her go, while also being afraid to hold such a tiny fragile baby.

For the next week, we spent a lot of time in the NICU. Her stitches needed to be monitored and she needed to learn how to eat and breathe before she could come home.

In time, she needed less assistance from the machines and I was allowed to start nursing her with the help of some incredible lactation consultants. She didn’t take to it quickly, so there were a lot of tears from both of us. But because of my diligence with pumping, she only had 1 bottle of formula during her stay at the NICU. 

The NICU team also taught us how to care for her stitches. Let’s just say that diaper changes with stitches are challenging. We couldn’t use baby wipes for the first month or so. 

Finally, on January 18, we got to bring her home! It was time to start a new challenge and adventure.

To all parents who have babies that spent time in the NICU, I feel for you on so many levels. I know we had a relatively short stay in the NICU, but it was still scary and a glimpse at how fragile life can be. 

To all NICU workers, thank you! I can’t thank you enough for your patience, your support, and your bravery. You take care of such precious little wonders. 

To expectant parents, having a plan for the birth of your child is important, but so is acknowledging that the plan may need to go out the window. Kids keep us on our toes, even before they are born.

To my daughter, thank you for making me a mom. I love how curious, strong-willed, creative, and compassionate you are. I will always, always be here for you.