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“We have a secret in our culture, and it’s not that birth is painful. It’s that women are strong.” –Laura Stavoe Harm

On August 29, 2019, my son was born. I was born as well; I am as new as he is.

I am incredibly lucky to have had the birth I had. It was pretty close to the plan I had written out months before. There were definitely deviations and the process was not exempt from a great deal of physical pain. But above feeling the pain, I felt supported, loved, empowered and divinely feminine.

Before I get into the details of the birth, I do want to say something to every mother reading this: I see and acknowledge your birth. All births are transformative and powerful and magical. My birth story doesn’t elevate or detract from yours. Your birth was just as powerful and unique to you as mine was to me, and I see you. Our births may vary greatly, and perhaps your differences were not in line with your choices or your desires. If that is the case, I am so sorry. At the end of the day, we are all mama and I honor you and your story.

I can’t fully explain Walt’s birth without talking about the previous day, too. On Wednesday, August 27, 2019 (my estimated due date), at about 10PM, Ted and I found fleas on two of our dogs and one of the cats. We were both exhausted and had no capacity to deal with it right at that moment, so we decided to go to bed and address it in the morning. I woke up at 2AM on the 28th to use the bathroom (because #40weekspregnant). When I came back to bed, I was wide awake, playing and replaying the list of things that we needed to do – and in what order – to address the flea issue before the imminent arrival of our first child. I could tell that Ted was awake too.

“Can you sleep?”
“Nope.”
“Want to make a list and get started on all of this?”
“Yep.”

So that’s exactly what we did. We were the people who go to Wal-Mart at 2:30AM, half-dead, to buy $150 worth of flea remediation products. We also got cinnamon rolls. Girl’s gotta eat.

Flash forward about six hours – together we deep cleaned every surface, flea-bathed all three dogs and both cats, flea-bombed the carpeted rooms, washed every linen in the entire house, and ate a cinnamon roll apiece. I had to get out the door for a chiropractic adjustment and a nail appointment; Ted had to log onto his computer and start the work day. I started having some contractions while I was out, but at this point I had been contracting on and off for about ten days. I really didn’t think too much of it, other than wanting to be close to home just in case.

We had lunch when I got home. My dessert was a castor oil and sherbet smoothie, as directed by my doctor (castor oil can induce labor). It made me violently nauseous and I threw up all of lunch. I knew I needed to eat something, but I was wiped and my first priority was to lay down for a nap. When I woke up (about 3PM), Ted and I ran a few errands. He was able to get through his work day early and needed to pick some things up from True Value and Lowe’s, and I wanted to go by Target to look at rugs. Mostly, I just wanted to have to be up and moving (also because #40weekspregnant). By the time we got home, Ted had been awake for 15 hours, so he took a nap. I put on a movie and lay down as well. 45 minutes later, I heard a “POP!”. Nothing happened immediately, so it was a very surreal moment. I thought maybe I’d misheard? Nothing hurt and nothing happened, so it was just very confusing. I stood up, and out gushed the water. There was no mistaking what had happened.

“Hey, Teddy…. I need you to wake up. My water just broke.”

The water was not really water – it was practically green. This is not normal and I knew that. A quick call to my OB revealed that my sweet son had a bowel movement on the inside, which is pretty uncommon. It also meant that baby would be at risk of NICU following delivery. More on that later.

My water also broke before I started contracting with any regularity. This presented a unique obstacle because I am Strep B positive and I knew that as soon as my water broke, I needed to head to the hospital, get checked in, and get antibiotics. Part of our plan was for me to labor at home as long as I could manage, but because my water broke before labor began, this was impossible. We took our time getting ready and stopped for sandwiches on the way to the hospital. We had both hardly eaten all day so we knew we needed fuel. The hospital is about a 45 minute drive from our house and my contractions really started to pick up (both in time, and intensity) on the drive.

We checked in and I was triaged. Although I was in labor at this point, I was not dilated enough to be admitted into the Natural Birth Center at St. Thomas Midtown – I needed to be 5cm for that, and I was only 2cm. We knew we’d be able to move rooms once I got to 5cm, but in the meantime, we got settled in a standard room. Anyone who knows me well should not be surprised to hear that I spent some time getting the room set up the way I wanted – everything organized just so, pausing for contractions along the way.

From the moment labor started (in the car) until the moment I gave birth, the contractions were about 45 seconds long and consistently 3 minutes apart. While they weren’t super powerful initially, they were frequent and dynamic enough to make rest impossible. About 8 hours into labor, at 3AM, (which felt like a lot longer), I reached the 5cm mark. We started the process of changing rooms and called our doula. Active labor was beginning and we were ready and excited to meet our son. One of my biggest wishes for birth was to be unmedicated – meaning no epidural, pitocin, etc – and being admitted to the Natural Birth Center felt like a big, triumphant stepping stone in that direction. It felt like committing.

A few hours and many painful, productive (or so I thought) contractions later, the sun rose on August 29, 2019. I have always been drawn to sunrise – many days throughout pregnancy I was headed to the gym when the sun rose, and on many of those mornings, I cried on the way. I just love a good sunrise. Our room was positioned so that we could see this particular sunrise over the Nashville skyline. It was plum and crimson and tangerine and golden and so, so beautiful. Ted came up close and told me that it was the perfect sunrise to have on a birthday. I wept because I knew he was right.

A little later on, things started to get tougher. I thought the first part of labor would be slow-going, but things would accelerate once active labor got started. My expectations were incorrect and it took a painfully long time to progress. After another 7 hours of very active labor, I was seemingly stuck at just over 5cm. I fully wanted to give up. For the first time in labor, I said, “I can’t.” Thank God for the encouragement of my husband and doula. They knew how much I wanted the birth that I did, and they kept me on that path. They had to do this several more times before baby arrived. At this point, I had been in labor for 17 hours – no food, no sleep. It would have been impossible to continue on without the support that I had. I had to be reminded that I am a warrior and I was made to do this.

About 5 hours and many contractions, tears, position changes and mini-breakdowns later, I was finally to a point where my body was ready to push. I had been in labor 22 hours and change. Remember the point about the NICU risk? Well, because he’d had a bowel movement on the inside, he would have to go straight to NICU if he didn’t cry right after delivery. So as I started to push, the NICU team came in. They were respectful and kept their distance, but it was unsettling to know that I might meet my son after a very long day, and then immediately lose him. Fifteen minutes into pushing, my nurse told me that my son had hair, and I was so tired that it didn’t even phase me. Every push felt like an eternity on the battlefield. I have never felt so simultaneously powerful and defeated. I hoped that every push would bring my son to me, but several passed by with seemingly no progress. He was a bit stuck – he is painfully stubborn, like me. A very long thirty minutes later, through screams of agony and sobs of victory, Walt was born. And so was I. And the lungs on this kid! I tell ya! NICU packed up and left right away. My son lay on my chest seconds after birth, and the whole day melted.

The stats –

Norman Walter Shumaker – affectionately, Walt – was born at 4:16pm on August 29, 2019. He was 7 pounds, 9 ounces and 20 inches long. We aren’t sure about his eye color – at birth they were gray-blue, but they’re starting to look a bit darker – but his hair appears to have a bit of red to it. He has full lips, a button nose, and a side-eye that puts mine to SHAME. The sass…

At the end of it all, I labored for 23 hours and one minute. The delivering midwife (who had to step in because my OB was in a scheduled surgery) told me a little later that the c-section rate is about 50% for mamas whose water breaks before labor begins – and that’s including all medicated births, too. For my water to break prior to labor, and for me to labor as long as I did, and still have the natural, drug-free birth I wanted, is basically a miracle. I have achieved a lot physically and athletically, but this was by far the most challenging and most rewarding feat on my list to date. I am remarkably proud, but I also have to give credit where it’s due: I had an amazing support team. The staff at St. Thomas Midtown, my OB, the delivering midwife, my doula and my husband were all instrumental in Walt’s birth going the way that it did. All women should feel as empowered by birth as I did. I am so very thankful.

After the dust settled, we all ate (Ted and I had Burger Republic and Gigi’s Cupcakes delivered to the hospital – thank you UberEats) and we all slept soundly – even Walt. As it turns out, birth was pretty exhausting for him, too.

For those of you who have gotten this far: thank you for reading. “Women are strong, strong, terribly strong. We don’t know how strong until we’re pushing out our babies.” –Louise Erdrich

To my Walt: You are my whole world. I am so thankful for the birth experience we shared.

You and me, we’re in a club now. I love you, son. I am in awe of you.