Born at Mile Marker 375 {A Birth Boot Camp Birth Story}
We are ringing in the new year with another awesome feature on our website: birth stories! To kick things off we had a little contest, and today we share a birth story from our winner, Deanna Chiappone, who was randomly chosen.
And wow, it’s a great story!
Deanna says that the thing that made her birth experience amazing was, “My husband was so calm and relaxed and both he and my mom had enough knowledge to know how to handle the situation.” We love to hear about incredible partners being an integral part of the birth process.
Congratulations on your amazing birth Deanna, and thanks for sharing your story with us!
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After baby #1 who was 2 weeks late and had to be herbally induced by my midwife, I seriously thought I had plenty of time. But as it turns out, with baby #2, I was barely hanging on. A week of Braxton-hicks contractions and nesting was nothing I hadn’t already prepared for. Even when I went to bed late one night at 11 pm after checking off the last of my “To Do”s.
One very persistent Braxton-hicks told me I was tired and it was time for bed. So off I went. I slept until about 3 am the next morning when my husband woke me up complaining. “Honey, you HAVE to stop squeezing my chest every time I’m about to drift off again. I can’t sleep.”
“What??”
I told him I was having contractions. He offered to time them as I lay in bed.
Big contraction – small break- small contraction – big break- big contraction – big break – repeat.
Agreeing it was either false labor or Braxton-hicks my Hubbs offered to walk around the house with me to try to get them to go away. After half an hour he timed them again.
Big contraction – small break- small contraction – big break- big contraction – big break – repeat.
Confused, we decided to take our midwife’s advice and go back to bed, trying to rest as much as possible. Another half hour later and I was getting concerned. My husband called my mother who came over and watched a single contraction before stating.
“Get the car. We should go.”
New residents to the Abilene area where the closest midwife was two hours away, we took my mom’s advice seriously. 20 minutes later we were headed to Weatherford and the midwife.
As any traveling laboring woman would know there is only so much sitting you can take while contractions pull you open. An hour into the 2-hour drive, I begged to get out. Not wanting to help speed the process, my mom refused to let my husband stop. So I lied and said I had to pee. My husband stopped at the very next rest area. The cleaning crew had just left and the lights were still low, it only being about 5:45 am.
Three contractions to the bathroom, one in the bathroom, and three contractions back. Those six contractions in and out were the first time I was able to cling to my husband like we had practiced over and over in the months before.
Oh was it so peaceful and relaxing? My anxiety melted away at his reassuring words. Not wanting to sit anymore, my butt was too sore, I entered the car facing the rear window, knees on the seat, using the headrest as a pillow and life preserver.
Less than five minutes back on the road and my water broke.
Panic ensued.
In my husband? No. He was calmer than the perfect beach day.
In my mom? No. She, having dreamed of being a doula for years, turned into a calculating machine and immediately called the midwife to receive instructions.
I, on the other hand, was crying, hyperventilating, and complaining about how messy this was going to be. Molly the midwife informed everyone she was driving to meet us and not to stop. Flashers were turned on and a speed of 90 mph was reached. Molly and my mom spent the next few minutes convincing me not to push I wasn’t intending to) and to breath, in a way I wouldn’t pass out. Three contractions later and my baby was crowning.
The next single contraction looked like this:
Mom talking to Molly over the phone about what to do, Mr. SuperHubbs driving like a champ and calmly reassuring me that any mess made would be dealt with by someone else, Me almost yelling that the baby is coming, all the while country music plays in the background and lights flash by.
The baby falls out in one contraction refusing to stay confined a moment longer.
My mom drops the phone to catch my bundle like a pro. I grab the phone before my contraction is fully over to tell Molly we just had a baby. My husband laughs because this is quite literally the exact opposite of all of our planning and the single fear I had about a midwife so far from home.
The few minutes it took for my baby to cry seemed like ages. Still going 90mph on I20 toward Weatherford. Molly met us 20 minutes later noting all was well. Another 20 minutes and we were at her clinic where I received the best postpartum care to date. Up until this point my husband and I wanted to be surprised by the gender, it wasn’t until Molly asked several minutes after bundling and relaxing that anyone even looked.
Our baby girl Ellena Temperance Chiappone was born at 6:18 am on I20 approximately mile marker 375 toward Weatherford. She is happy, healthy, and a bundle of joy.
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Want to share your own amazing birth story on the Birth Boot Camp blog? Just fill out this form. We can’t wait to hear from you.
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