Leander Roxas / The Midwife Center for Birth & Women’s Health, Pittsburgh, PA / Birth Story – Part 1

One of the things I did immediately in the days following Braelynn’s birth was sit down & write out her birth story – every detail I could possibly remember (that was still super fresh in my mind) of the beginning of her story. I choose to handwrite her story and it filled something like 13 front-and-back pages of notebook paper & took me several days to write out.

With Leander, I knew I wanted to write out his birth story too – it’s crazy how quickly the details fade from your memory! But, I knew I would never have time to write his story out by hand – so typing it up on Google Drive seemed the perfect solution. It still took me several days and ended up spanning 15 typed pages (I can only imagine how many pages of notebook paper that would be!)

So, this week, I’ll be sharing Leander’s birth story here on my blog! I shared Braelynn’s story the same way (if you love reading birth stories & want to go back & read the story of how our baby girl came into the world, it’s split into two parts – here & here).

The purpose of me sharing this story is to simply shine a light on birth. I know that for me, reading birth stories (specifically the stories both my wedding photographers wrote out for their babies) made me feel more prepared & less scared going into my own birth experiences.The word “empowering” is a super cliche word associated with birth, but it’s definitely not a word I would use to describe Braelynn’s birth. However, it is one I feel describes Leander’s birth beautifully. Every birth is completely unique & beautiful in it’s own way, and I share this in the hopes that it might help someone else enter their own birth experience with more confidence!

On December 2, 2018, we went to bed & Derrick said, “I’m not going to say anything about you going into labor. Because, as we found out last time, it doesn’t matter what I say: if it’s going to happen tonight, it’s going to happen. So, whenever you’re ready, so am I.”

Our baby boy was due on December 14, 2018. Secretly, I really hoped that he would come early – and the earlier the better. Not only because I was anxious to meet him & be done being pregnant, but because I wanted his birthday to be as far from Christmas as possible. Of course, with his due date being just 11 days before Christmas, the odds were that he would be born closer to (or even on) Christmas Day than the odds were that he would be born further away.

It’s a crazy season – we know so many babies who were due to be born within days of our baby boy. A friend from where we used to live had the exact same due date as me. Another friend from church here, was due just days before me – Derrick’s best friend from growing up was due just days after me. And the best: my cousin Zeb & his wife Emilie were due just 3 days before we were! With so many babies due basically at the same time, I felt like either I would go first – or I would go absolutely last. And mentally, I was doing my best to prepare to be “last”. Not that giving birth to a baby is a race or in any way controllable – it is super-duper mental though, so I was doing my best to prepare to see everyone else’s baby be born & to still be waiting to hold mine.

Since the beginning of November, I had been experiencing pretty substantial pain. It grew as the weeks went on and we got closer to December. Mostly it was the worst at night – when it got to the point where I could barely walk. My hips literally felt like someone had pulled them apart & they were no longer attached to each other (picture a baby doll who’s hips are attached by an elastic string so you can bend & move her legs around – but you can also pull them out of their sockets – that’s what I felt like). My low back was furious with any little twist. And I could feel baby boy pressing further & further into my pelvis. All together, I felt like a little old lady shuffling around the house. I would hold onto the walls & couch & basically anything I could, it was horrible. Sleep was elusive and I’d wake up literally moaning in pain from having tried to turn over. Braelynn knew that something was wrong & anytime she’d hear me complaining, she’d grab my hand & pray: “Dear Jesus, please help Mommy’s back to feel better. Amen.”

I was so ready to be done being pregnant & meet my baby boy.

Before we even got pregnant with our baby, I knew I wanted a different birth experience than with Braelynn. Was Braelynn’s birth experience horrible? Well, no, it could have been worse. But it definitely was not ideal. So many things happened that were beyond what I wanted, and even though I understand that that is just how the labor & delivery process in a hospital goes, looking back there were definitely things that could have been prevented to make the experience completely different.

With this being my second baby, I was a little braver when considering my “options”. Meaning: I was open & leaning toward going to see the midwives who were in the Strip District of Downtown Pittsburgh. Derrick was not convinced, but equally agreed that our experience in a hospital with Braelynn’s birth was something we did not want to relive. So, he reluctantly agreed to attend an orientation of The Midwife Center for Birth & Women’s Health.

Along with a group of about 10 other couples, we heard a presentation by a nurse and got a full tour of The Center. She talked about how birth is one of the most natural parts of life & it shouldn’t be feared, but embraced, as an empowering event (especially for the Mom). She was so positive & encouraging about the labor & delivery process (which, I’ll be honest, I was definitely nervous to relive), that she actually made me excited to labor through & deliver this new little baby.

I was so impressed by the staff we met, by the atmosphere of the building, and by the homeliness of the birthing rooms. I left that orientation 110% sold that that would be where I would deliver my baby. The thought of going to a hospital was as far as the East is from the West (even though they were very clear that the midwives could only deliver babies at The Center for normal, healthy pregnancies. If there were any problems, they would still remain the primary caregiver, but the birth would have to take place in a hospital.) I had a goal though, a specific end in sight: I wanted to deliver my baby at The Center if it was the last thing I did.

Derrick was not quite as convinced as I was, but he definitely agreed that everything about the midwives & The Center was impressive & so different from the hospital, that he agreed we should pursue my pregnancy care, labor, delivery, and postpartum care to the midwives.

I was so excited. Yes, excited. This experience was going to be so much better than with Braelynn & I was excited.

Of course, my pregnancy was anything but what I had experienced being pregnant with Braelynn. I had 24/7 “morning sickness” for about the first 18 weeks. I failed my glucose screening and had to take the actual, 3-hour, glucose test. And that experience shook me to my core. If I failed the glucose test, I would not be able to have my Center birth as I had envisioned & so desperately desired. Let’s just say, those 10 days of being unsure were some of the hardest days I have ever lived through – a true test of Who my reliance was on.

I cried fat, happy, hot tears when I passed the 3-hour test.

That experience changed the entire remaining course of my pregnancy. I completely changed my diet. It’s not like I was eating big luscious pieces of chocolate cake every night & drinking gallons of chocolate milk every morning – we were eating “okay”, but the glucose scare really forced me to take a serious look at what I was eating & ask the question: Could it be better? And the answer was yes. I jumped head first into a low-glycemic diet (following a plan laid out in a book called The Trim Healthy Mama). My Mom had been eating this way for years & I had had the book on my shelf, with every intention of “eventually” reading it, but the experience with the glucose test made my hands fly to that book & make time to read it.

Almost instantly, my pregnancy changed. I hadn’t been able to wear my wedding rings (but I was expecting that because I had had to have them cut off when I was pregnant with Braelynn). And suddenly, after a few days of diet change, I decided to try to see if I could wear them. Miraculously, they slid right on to my (previous too swollen) finger. I was amazed.

I lost weight – which you aren’t technically supposed to do during pregnancy. I had been on course to gain about 45-50 pounds (which is what I gained when I was pregnant with Braelynn), so I just figured that was what my body would normally do during pregnancy. But upon changing up my diet, I shed a few pounds, and then leveled out with very little gain for the remainder of my pregnancy. In the end, I only gained about 25 pounds with this little guy – which is what the “recommended” weight gain is for most pregnancies anyway. I can still hardly believe it.

My blood pressure dropped back into a “low-normal” range. Up until this point, every time the midwives would take my blood pressure, they would comment, “Well, it’s not really ‘high’, but it’s borderline.” They were amazing at never instilling fear in me that there was anything inherently “wrong”, but I went ahead & did that myself with a few Google searches. It was just another worry that if it was too high, I might not be able to deliver my baby at The Center like I so desperately wanted. And with the diet changes – my blood pressure was “perfect”.

And suddenly, I had some energy back. Changing my diet completely changed the remaining 12 weeks of my pregnancy.

Suddenly, I went from riding the line of being a “normal, healthy pregnancy” – which is what I needed to deliver at The Center – to being a way within the “normal, healthy” boundaries. (Oh, and let’s not forget that I got bit by a tick during one of my last weddings of the season & had to be on antibiotics because of the rash that occurred.)

I was elated. I absolutely loved the midwives & had every single faith that not only would this birth experience be different, but that it would be, dare I say, “wonderful.”

So, back to the days leading up to my labor & delivery: I had an appointment with the midwives on Thursday (November 28) morning. At that appointment, I explained how I was in so much pain. The inability to walk “quietly” (meaning, without whimpering with every step) was quickly invading my days. I went from it just being bad in the evenings or after sitting too long, to it being bad in the afternoons, to starting at lunchtime, to it just being non-stop pain. The midwife I was seeing encouraged me that it sounded completely normal for the last few days of pregnancy, and upon her listening to the baby’s heartbeat & feeling where he was sitting, she explained that his head seemed to be planted firmly right on top of my pelvis. This, along with hormones being released that were loosening my joints & muscles in preparation for labor, was more than likely what was causing me so much discomfort. She smiled & reassured me that labor could start at any time, and either she’d see me back in the office in one week’s time, or they’d see me in the delivery room.

At that appointment, she told me that she was estimating that my baby was around 6 ½ lbs. In just 4 days, we would find out that she was pretty much right on the money.

Encouraged, but still mentally preparing for it to be at least 2 more weeks, I came home, determined to finish off my “list”.

Coming into being due with a baby just days before Christmas, I had set certain goals for myself. The biggest one was that I wanted to be done with “Christmas” by December 1 – cards, shopping, & have everything wrapped. Thanks to some awesome Amazon deals on Black Friday & Cyber Monday, I officially had all of my gifts bought by November 26. They had almost all arrived in the mail & I proceeded to wrap gifts Friday night & almost all day Saturday. Normally, I would spread present-wrapping out over the course of a week, but I was bound & determined to hit that December 1 goal. Somewhere in the back of my head, I knew that if I could check that huge goal off of my list, that maybe, just maybe, my body would agree that since I was “done” – that I could go into labor.

As Saturday, December 1st came to a close, I officially checked off everything on my Christmas list – I was done.

Sunday, December 2nd, I stayed home from church. I simply couldn’t do it anymore. I was home to stay until baby was born.

Again, with the hopes that something “mental” would potentially trigger labor, I painted my fingernails on Sunday afternoon. I know that sounds really weird & crazy, but in the days before Braelynn was born, I had painted my fingernails & I remembered how wonderful it felt to have pretty nails while holding my newborn baby. So, again, even though mentally preparing for at least a few more weeks of waiting, I decided to go ahead and make my fingers pretty.

We went to bed Sunday night, as we had the last few nights, wondering out loud if “tonight” would be our last night as a family of 3.

(the below photos were taken on December 1st and December 2nd, right before we went to bed – Saturday & Sunday nights)

At 1:23am, I woke up. It was pretty much the average time I had been waking up every night to go to the bathroom. As I laid in bed, I wondered what had woken me up, because I didn’t seem to have that crazy urge to pee (as usual). Sighing, I figured I better get up & go anyways, because if I was awake, I might as well make use of it.

I slid out of bed and waddled into the bathroom. As I got closer to the toilet, I realized that suddenly I was losing control of my bladder. Suddenly wide awake, I wondered if my water could possibly be breaking. I almost laughed to myself though that that couldn’t be it (I was, after all, mentally preparing for at least 2 more weeks), I peed, and as I stood back up, I realized that I literally had zero control over what was going on “down there”. I took 3 lunges forward & stepped into the shower, just as a huge gush escaped my body.

I just stood there. Did my water really just break? And as I was thinking it, here came another gush.

This was it. This was real. My water had broken & I was going into labor.

I just stood there for a few minutes, letting it all sink in. We were going to have our baby today. What was the date? December 3rd – our baby boy’s birthday would be December 3rd.

I couldn’t believe how close this labor was starting out to how my labor with Braelynn’s started: almost at the same time, in almost the same way – with my water breaking in the middle of the night. This was strangely weird.

I waited a few more moments and then wrapped a towel around myself in order to go wake up Derrick. He could hardly believe it either as we both stumbled back into the bathroom.

Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, I called the midwives right around 1:30am. They asked if I was sure that my water had broken & I said, “Yes.” I explained exactly what had happened & how my water had broken for my first child, so I was 110% confident in what had just happened. They asked if I was having any contractions, and I said no. Just like with Braelynn, I hadn’t experienced any contractions leading up to my water breaking. The midwife on call told me to hang tight at home & wait for contractions to start. She suggested waiting until they were coming “strong” & needing to be breathed through before calling and coming in (she explained that she currently had someone at The Center in labor & about ready to push, so she would have to call in another midwife if I was coming soon). Further, she said that if nothing seemed to happen over the next few hours, to call back at 7am – that’s when the next midwife’s shift would start & I should talk to her to make a game plan for the day.

Fully expecting for my contractions to begin (just like they did with Braelynn), I agreed, hung up the phone, and called my Mom. She answered on the second ring & sounded wide awake. “Are you awake?” I asked her. “Well, I am now!” she responded.

I explained to her our game plan – that my water had broken & that I was going to wait at home for contractions to start. I promised to keep her updated & with that, Derrick & I went back to bed. We laid down a few towels for me to lay on, turned off the lights, and attempted to get some rest.

Of course, the number one thing you should do at this stage of the game is rest. But the last thing you can do at this stage of the game is rest! I was so excited that this was it, and just the thought that within the next day, that we’d be meeting our baby, made my heart all a flutter.

Around 2:15am, I began to feel the twinges of my first contractions. The first few were so mild, that I didn’t even time them. But as they began to have a rhythm, I downloaded a contraction-timing app on my phone & I began to time them.

By about 3:30am, I was having a contraction every 5-6 minutes and it was lasting about 40-50 seconds. I knew they were still just “baby” contractions, but since they were coming fairly regularly, I decided to get up and begin packing things up for The Center. I had my bag packed, but had a few extra things I needed to grab, so I went down my list & carefully checked off each item. Moving around seemed to change the rhythm of my “regular” contractions, so I ended up going downstairs & laying down on the couch. Derrick came down too & took up residence on the other couch. Again, we laid in the dark, attempting to rest – and he actually (finally) got some sleep. I could hear his slow & steady breathing & was thankful that he was getting at least a little bit of sleep. Who knew how long (or short) our day would be?

I was still timing out my contractions, but they seemed to be getting further & further apart. By 5:30am, the gap between my contractions started to stretch from having a contraction every 5-6 minutes to having a contraction every 10-15 minutes. Totally confused, I actually fell asleep in those longer stretches between contractions.

Not only was I keeping tabs on the timing of my contractions, but I was also watching the time of day slowly creep toward dawn. We were getting closer & closer to “a problem” – The Midwife Center is in the Strip District of Downtown Pittsburgh. And as time moved forward, suddenly we were approaching rush hour. If we got stuck in the morning commute of people heading into Pittsburgh, it would push our time from about a 40 minute ride in, to approximately a 90 minute ride in. It was one of my only fears about delivering at The Center – if we got stuck in rush hour traffic, there was the potential for things to get a bit “scary”. Delivering a baby in the car during rush hour was not something I wanted to do.

However, there was nothing I could do. My contractions were simply getting further & further apart.

At 6:30am, I woke with a start – I had fallen asleep & it had been long enough since my last contraction for me to actually fall asleep. I woke to feeling a contraction – one that was stronger than it’s predecessors (but still just a baby contraction – I knew things needed to get much stronger). I decided to call the midwives & ask their opinion. At this point, my contractions had slowed to being about 15 minutes apart. They were picking up their intensity a bit, but they were so far apart from one another. My main concern though was that we were officially entering “rush hour” & I was worried about the drive into the city.

They paged the midwife on call & I waited for a call back. Knowing that their shifts were changing, it didn’t surprise me when I didn’t hear back from them right away. Still having heard nothing, I called back at 7am, knowing I needed to talk to the new midwives coming on for the day to figure out our plan of action.

At 7:05am, I got a call back from The Center. The midwife on the phone introduced herself as Britt & explained that herself & Kara were the two midwives coming on call for the day. She asked for me to explain everything that had happened since my water breaking about 5 ½ hours earlier (after clarifying that I was confident that my water had in fact broken). I explained everything that was going on – ending with how my contractions were getting further & further apart, but how I was concerned with the drive into the city if things started to pick up again.

Britt listened to everything & said that it sounded like my labor was stalling. I agreed with her. She suggested waiting just a little bit longer, but planning on coming down to The Center & arriving around 9am. At that point, they would double-check that my water had indeed broken, and assuming it had, attempt to restart my labor.

I agreed & called my Mom to update her on the plan. Knowing that it was going to take us a while to get into the city, we planned to leave my house by around 7:45am. My sister Amy, (miraculously? crazily? wondrously?) had that specific Monday almost completely free of any obligations. Normally, her cleaning jobs keep her days busy, but cancellations had freed up her day & so she agreed to come over & hang out with Braelynn.

Speaking of Braelynn, at 7am, her “okay-to-wake” clock turns green & she knows that’s her cue to get up & out of bed. So, as I was finishing up talking to Britt on the phone, we heard a sleepy Braelynn come out of her bedroom & we called for her to come see us downstairs.

She sauntered down the steps, wiping sleep from her eyes, yawning, and saying, “Hi Mommy.”

“Hi Braelynn, come here – Mommy & Daddy have something to tell you.”

With that, her steps picked up their pace a little bit & hitting the bottom of the stairs, she came running over to us. I wrapped her up in a big hug & said, “Hey Braelynn, guess what?”

“What?” she asked.

“Mommy’s going to have the baby today.”

She gasped: “Today?!”

“Yes! Auntie Amy is going to come over soon & watch you while Mommy & Daddy go have the baby.”

She gasped again & said that she was “so excited”! It was so much fun to break the news to her ourselves (when we had originally expected to be gone by the time she woke up).

We snuggled on the couch for a few minutes & Derrick got up to make himself some breakfast. At this point, it had been almost 40 minutes since my last contraction. Feeling a bit discouraged that things had seemingly stopped, I got up to double-check my bag and begin getting ready to leave. Within 15 minutes, my Mom & Amy were walking in our door, and after giving Amy a few instructions on where to find some important items for Braelynn, we walked out of our house to head down to Pittsburgh to have our baby.

Derrick drove and the 3 of us chatted away. Literally nothing was happening with me. At the time, it was a bit frustrating, but in hindsight, it was actually kind of nice. It took us a full hour to get down to the Strip District – even with taking some back roads that Derrick knew & avoiding the Squirrel Hill Tunnels (which is where our GPS was telling us traffic was backed up the worst). On the way in, we passed Trader Joe’s – which brought back all sorts of fun memories as that is where we got all of the flowers for Derrick & I’s wedding.

We arrived at The Midwife Center just a few minutes before 9am. We buzzed in & Britt met us right inside the doors.

.. keep on reading by clicking here & going to PART 2!