✨ Mabel’s Birth Story ✨
6 years ago, in July, I woke up around 3 AM, thinking I had peed myself a little. I got up, went to the bathroom, and then made myself some tea. As I stood there, I suddenly felt more trickling down on my legs. Did my water just break a little? I wondered. Shortly after, the contraction started — and I remember feeling completely paralyzed by the pain. I sat on the couch, trying to talk myself through it. I thought I was prepared after all the birth classes we took, but I was not prepared for that kind of pain.
A few hours later, we went to the birth center. They checked my cervix, and I was only 3 cm dilated. Since I wasn’t progressing quickly, they decided to keep me for two hours to see if things would move along. But when they checked again, I was still at 3 cm, so they sent me home.
Back to the couch I went. The pain was so consuming that I didn’t eat or drink anything. Garin kept asking if I was okay, and every time, I just stared at him like, ‘Do I LOOK okay?!?!’ I didn’t have the energy to respond, but in my head, I was screaming, ‘Stop talking to me! Go find something else to do!’ Meanwhile, my mom was quietly timing my contractions from across the room. I could feel her eyes on me, and it was driving me crazy. Finally, I told her, ‘I can feel you watching me. Go do something else!’ I was already overwhelmed with the pain. I didn’t need an audience.
By 9 PM, I decided to go back to the birth center for a membrane sweep, hoping it would get things moving.
As the nurse did the sweep, my water gushed out. I looked over at Garin and asked, “Did that really just happen?” I turned back to the nurse, and she looked just as surprised. She explained that it doesn’t usually happen like that. But even though my water had broken, I still wasn’t dilated enough to stay. They sent us home again, which frustrated Garin. He thought we should have stayed.
The moment we got home, the contractions became so much stronger. And I remember thinking, ‘Oh God, THAT is what they meant when they talked about contractions.’ I spent two more hours on the couch, trying to breathe through them. By midnight, I knew it was time - I couldn’t take it anymore. We headed back to the birth center, and thankfully, this time, we got to stay.
As the contractions grew even stronger and more consistent, I decided to get in the tub. The relief was incredible. I labored there for a while, but then my midwife needed to check the baby’s heartbeat. (At this point, we didn’t know the gender.)
Suddenly, she frantically screamed, “I CAN’T FIND THE BABY’S HEARTBEAT!!!” I think she panicked, assuming I wouldn’t be able to hear her, but I heard every word with my good ear. Her scream is forever scarred in my memory. In that moment, my heart dropped. I truly thought something was wrong.
Panic set in. She made me get out of the tub and change positions so she could try again. After what felt like forever, she finally found it — the heartbeat. The baby was fine. She asked if I wanted to get back in, but I said no. I felt like the moment had been ruined.
From there, everything became overwhelming. My midwife and doula had me trying all kinds of different positions. I just wanted the pain to stop.
And then came pushing. I pushed for two hours. I tried and tried and tried. But I was so exhausted. I didn’t know if I could do it any longer… Until Garin told me the baby was crowning. “I see the baby. Don’t stop pushing. You can do this,” he said.
I gave one last, full-force push and screamed as loud as I could. And then - there they were, placed on my chest. A huge wave of relief washed over me. The midwife explained that Mabel had her hand on her face as she was being born, which may be why I struggled a bit with birthing her.
The doula told Garin to check the gender. He looked and shouted, "It's a girl!"
I knew it. I knew it all along. I screamed with excitement, “A GIRL!!!”
And then, suddenly, my body started shaking uncontrollably. I looked around the room, trying to see if anyone seemed concerned. I thought something was wrong, like maybe I was dying from losing too much blood or something. But the midwife reassured me that it was just my hormones crashing.
As I held her, exhausted and overwhelmed, I couldn’t believe she was finally here. But in that quiet moment, something caught my attention. I noticed that Mabel’s middle finger seemed unusually large. I stared at it, wondering if I was imagining things. I whispered to my mom, asking if she saw it too. Later, we learned that Mabel was born with a rare condition called macrodactyly, where one or more fingers are abnormally large. It’s so rare that only 1 in 100,000 babies are born with it.
Mabel’s birth was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Yes, it was a bit traumatic, but I still can’t believe I did it. I almost gave up, but thankfully, I didn’t because of the incredible support I had.
Visual Descriptions: A black and white photograph of Sarah holding a newborn baby. Sarah is sitting on a bed, cradling the baby close to her chest. The baby is wrapped in a striped blanket and appears to be sleeping peacefully. The woman's hair is tied up in a messy bun, and she is looking down at the baby with a gentle expression. In the background, there are some objects on a bedside table, including a water bottle and a small electronic device. The overall atmosphere is intimate and tender.