A Birth Story (Part 2)

**This is part of a series. To begin the series, click here.**

I have decided to post a series on the birth story of our daughter, who recently arrived. It will start from the beginning of trying to conceive through pregnancy and labor and delivery, ending with her birth and some reflections. These posts will be detailed and include some descriptions which some readers may find uncomfortable/graphic, (labor and delivery is no joke!) though, I have endeavored to not be too gross with details. I want to be true to the beautiful, messy, incredible experience and journey. I hope that it adds beauty, inspires, and adds some light and hope this season. Peace to you all.

Love,

C.

Pregnancy was an incredible and completely other experience. I cried when it was my last appointment at the fertility center – at twelve weeks. The staff had become like family, so supportive and hopeful for us.

I read pregnancy and birth books. I wanted to prepare myself and make educated decisions about labor and delivery. I thought I was really fortunate to be assigned a midwife who would have long conversations with me about those decisions and what would be best. She listened well, and she offered other experiences and voices for me to consider as well.

Ultimately, I decided against a completely natural birth, and optioned for an epidural after doing research and considering my own body and needs. We talked about not wanting to be induced, no pitocin for induction or stalled delivery, and no episiotomy. (All if possible.) Conversations I never thought I would have.

I made it through horrible morning sickness, intense reflux and heartburn, leg cramps, and other discomforts. I delighted in the first quickenings, and in later obvious movements in my belly which could be seen. I found my hand naturally and instinctively resting on my belly often, which many people found to be funny and asked if I was holding my belly up.

No, I was connecting with my daughter.

I sang to her, and I wrote her a lullaby in French. She moved at the sound of my voice.

Pregnancy was a beautiful and sacred gift.

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