✨ Kevin’s Birth Story ✨
One Thursday evening in February, I woke up to contractions and glanced at the clock — 10:45 PM. I wasn't sure if it was Braxton Hicks or real labor, so I started timing them.
A half hour later, I got up because I couldn’t sleep. I walked around the living room as the contractions came and went. Around 2 AM, still unable to rest, I decided to take a bath, hoping it would help me relax and ride out the contractions. I stayed in the tub for an hour before heading back to bed.
By 3 AM, we called the birth center to let them know labor had started. I texted our birth support person, Victoria, and our birth photographer, Rachel, to give them a heads-up. Afterward, I turned to Garin and said, "I don't know what I was thinking — doing this for the third time. What's wrong with me?" He reassured that I could do it. We tried to get more rest.
At 8 AM, the contractions disappeared completely. I cried as I texted Rachel, feeling frustrated. After laboring intensely all night, now I felt nothing. Rachel reassured me that this was common with third births, something she and many other mothers had experienced. Victoria echoed the same advice, encouraging me to rest and let my body take the lead. I decided to follow their guidance and not stress over when labor would pick back up.
By noon, contractions slowly picked up again. By 3 PM, they were consistent, so I messaged the midwife, Victoria, and Rachel. I sent the midwives a screenshot of my contraction timing so they could gauge my progress. One of the midwives suggested we come in by 5 PM since I needed antibiotics.
As we waited, I put on my favorite songs, hoping to distract myself from the pain. It worked — at least for a while. The music helped keep me calm and focused, and the familiar tunes gave me a sense of comfort amidst the intensity.
We arrived at the birth center around 5:30 PM. In the office, we talked about where I was in labor, and Victoria arrived soon after. As soon as I saw her, I started crying — after a long night and day, I was exhausted. We did a cervical check, and my heart sank when I heard I was only 4 cm.
“Oh my god. I have such a long way to go. How the hell am I going to do this?”
Since I needed antibiotics, they had me stay. I was brought into a room where I noticed something familiar — the exact same bed frame where I gave birth to Mabel. The birth center where she was born had closed a month after her birth, and the bed frame had been gifted to this new birth center. Seeing it felt like a full-circle moment — my first and last birth, connected in an unexpected way.
I got on the bed and started the antibiotics. Garin and I lounged, chatting with Victoria for about half an hour, but soon, the contractions intensified, making it impossible to hold a conversation. Each time one hit, I pressed my feet into Garin. After a few trips to the bathroom, I decided to stand, leaning into the bed with stacked pillows while Garin stepped in to do hip squeezes when I needed them.
At 7:03 PM, I felt a huge gush — my water had broken. A contraction hit immediately after, so I couldn’t say anything right away. Once it passed, I looked at Garin and said, “My water just broke.” He immediately looked down at the towel I was standing on and went, “Whoa!” clearly surprised by how much there was.
I looked up at Victoria while still leaning on the bed and told her. She just nodded and said, “I know.”
Confused, I asked, “How do you know?”
She said, "I heard it."
That caught me off guard. “Wait… you heard it?!”
She nodded. "Yeah, it sounded like you poured a cup of water onto the ground."
I couldn’t believe it. It hadn’t even occurred to me that my water breaking would make a sound — just one of those funny moments where being Deaf made me forget the little things hearing people notice.
Feeling the intensity ramp up, I turned to Victoria and asked, “Can I get in the tub now? I’m ready.” She hurried to prepare it, and as soon as it was ready, I climbed in as quickly as I could. But before I could fully settle into the water, I felt the baby begin to crown.
Garin and Victoria looked at each other, both realizing what was happening. Their eyes widened, and it was like a silent “Oh shit” moment between them. Without hesitation, Victoria bolted to the other room to get the midwife, who was assisting another birth. I held Kevin’s head until the midwife arrived, and Garin reminded me to take small breaths.
One more push and he was out. All in just 13 minutes from my water breaking.
Just like that, he was here. Our son, our grand finale, born in a rush that took us all by surprise. The hours of waiting, the waves of contractions, the moment of doubt — it all ended in a blur of power, instinct, and love. I held Kevin close, feeling the weight of him, the warmth of his tiny body, and the overwhelming sense of love. He was here. We did it.
As I looked down at him, I suddenly remembered Rachel — she had missed it. She had been just minutes too late, and I couldn’t help but think, ‘Oh no. Rachel missed it.’ But in the end, it didn’t matter. He was here, and we were complete.