Our Birth Story

It was a Saturday just like any other Saturday. Dr. Karisa went into the office to see her usual round of patients. And while I typically use this quiet time to catch up on work, play video games and tidy up the house, today I felt inclined to continue preparing for our birth, which was still (at least) two weeks away.

I read a few chapters from The First 40 Days and put the finishing touches on our freezer meal lineup and labor snack menu. I even tested out inflating our birth tub and hooking up the shower converter that had just arrived yesterday. To say you’re “ready” for birth would be a lie, but it was nice to feel a bit more prepared – even though we still had a couple weeks to go.

Karisa came home experiencing some fairly consistent contractions. This wasn’t our first bout with Braxton Hicks, so it wasn’t a super noteworthy event. Take a nap and it’ll wear off. When that didn’t happen, Karisa called a friend to get adjusted. Her pelvis felt off, and as a preacher of pelvic alignment during pregnancy, she needed to get this addressed before her birth…in a few short weeks.

Contractions continued into the early afternoon. We called our doula and midwives as an FYI, but let them know we’d update them when the contractions subside. Karisa Facetimed a friend who had recently given birth. Is this really it? Surely they will go away soon.

Just then a whoosh we’ll never forget took place. With a flair for dramatics that would foreshadow the evening ahead, Karisa’s water broke in our living room like something out of a movie scene. She laughed, cried and stood frozen as a puddle formed underneath her feet. It was about the only thing that would snap her out of her denial that we weren’t a few weeks away. This was happening now.

A calm, focused fury ensued. I was certain this baby was going to pop before our home birth environment was even set, so I moved down the birth checklist with a military precision. Karisa reminded me to soak up the moment with her and I obliged…for a moment.

After the initial chaos, a divine peace settled in. Our doula, Rhonda, arrived and our friend Tyler brought over groceries. We baked a cake for our baby to be – a whole new meaning to the word “birthday” formed in our minds. Karisa’s contractions kept up around 3-7 minutes apart. We laughed and joked in between. Our Leon Bridges radio set a good vibe. The visions of pain and stress burned in your mind about birth did not apply. Early labor at home was fun.

As the sun set, the evening intensified. Karisa was progressing – contractions ramped up and the joking in between stopped. She moved from the kitchen, to the bed, to the tub and we followed her every move. The strength of this woman could not be overstated, but it was her intuitive connection to her body that was most remarkable. She seemed to track every shift and shake going on inside her as our little peanut made their way into the world.

After a fair amount of time feeling “close”, Karisa’s intuition kicked in again. Something was off. She immediately asked for a cervical check. Both midwives felt a hand leading the way, with an uncertain body part trailing behind (a butt or ear was hypothesized, but at any rate, not the back of the head). A third midwife came in the wee hours of the morning to form a consensus: baby was not coming out head first.

Instincts may tell you that a home birth midwife’s job is to help you deliver a baby at home. But that is simply not the case. The midwife’s paramount role is to ensure a safe and healthy birth for mom and baby – whatever that entails. We are so grateful our team from Vida Midwifery (Britt Jackson & Evelyn Yaeggy) recognized the increased risk of the situation and sent us to the hospital to find out what was really going on in there.

We packed a makeshift bag for the hospital at 2:30am, a little over 12 hours into labor. It only took hospital staff about 12 minutes to confirm our suspicions: baby had gone full breech. Some felt a hand, others felt a foot. We suspect baby flipped multiple times during labor – perhaps even on the ride over. Knowing her mother, keeping everyone on their toes is in our little baby’s blood.

With a confirmed breech baby on ultrasound, the hospital staff expedited preparations for a caesarean delivery. Our room was abuzz with activity until suddenly, it wasn’t. The entire ensemble left for the OR except for one lonely dad in scrubs. Surely it wasn’t worse than the poking, prodding and puking going on in the other room. But sitting there alone with my thoughts wasn’t the most comforting experience of my life.

The bright lights and beehive mentality of the OR offered little relief. It was a short commute to the hospital, but we were light years away from the salt lamp birth tub oasis we had created in our nursery. Still, we remained calm and confident we had come to the right place to bring our baby into the world safely. The golden retriever on the anesthesiologist’s surgical cap let us know Charlie was watching over the proceedings as well.

We’re grateful for the hospital staff who made that possible, and we’re even more grateful for the person who was with us every step of the way – our doula Rhonda (oilydoulamn.com). From conducting the positional choreography of birthing at home to helping us navigate the unexpected twist of a surgical birth, she was an invaluable member of our birth team. We couldn’t recommend her services or any of our wonderful local doulas more.

After a successful surgery, we finally got to meet our beautiful baby at 4:51am – a girl, just as mom knew all along. After some special bonding time in the post-op room, we weary-eyed parents retired to our hospital room now a family of three. Babygirl Walsh officially became Mila James Walsh that afternoon and mom and Mila passed all their tests with flying colors. 36 hours later, we returned to the place we were meant to be all along: home. And we’ve felt more and more like a family every day since.