Emma's Birth Story

    In the late afternoon of December 19, I went on base un-showered and unsuspecting of the non-stress test ahead of me. Being over my due date, I was thinking of how non-stress tests always seemed to get me contracting with the twins and I was hopeful I’d be coming back to the hospital later that evening in labor. I just felt like it was going to be the night. I was stopped up short when the doctor came in and said there were some concerns on the non-stress test. Nothing terrible but also not “text book perfect” and if it’s not “text book perfect” when you’re passed due it’s time to get induced. Like pronto. His comfort zone was having me on continual monitoring from that point on. No going home to get my stuff and coming back. This was it. 

    Induced. Induced?! (Insert tires screeching on the asphalt) An induction. I didn’t want an induction. Even on the one pregnancy when I was going to be induced, the cervix softener they gave me the night before was enough to kick me into labor and I never needed the pitocin. I definitely didn’t want pitocin crashing my plans to have an unmedicated delivery. 

    Because this was going to be the big one, you know? The final one and the delivery where I would feel in control of the pain instead of like the pain was in control of me. I was determined to make it so. My plan had pretty much been going along smoothly until that non-stress test.

    The plan. I was going to have contractions multiple nights in a row and go into labor just passed my due date really late at night. That’s how it had been for the last two pregnancies. I had a great midwife that I jived with who was going to come in for me even if she wasn’t already working which is almost unheard of these days. I had new tactics to try to help manage the experience this time after crossing other tactics off the list with previous deliveries. I had internal dialogue with Emma and I felt our connection. We were two girls that were going to get through this together.

    This. was. it. The birthing goddess feeling birth. If you want to know what my version of a birthing goddess is, look no further than my sister, Rebekah. She will roll her eyes and die a little bit inside because I brought attention to her, but there it is. She’s totally my birthing spirit animal. 

    So anyways, back to the wrench in the plan. Unshowered Sarah sitting in a monitoring room with a bunch of wires strapped to me being told it was time for an induction. The OB kindly handed me his personal cell phone (because most cell phones don’t work on base but his was one of the lucky few that did) and had me call Jayce to fill him in and get him to the hospital. I was at war with it in my head but the OB pointed something out that struck a chord with me—when you’re passed due and the baby is fully developed but not passing the non-stress test with flying colors, what do you really have to gain in waiting?

    Fast forward. I’ve been admitted to the hospital. Jayce has arrived after getting everything squared away with the kids (thank you angel friend, Andrea, for staying with them overnight) and when we have time in the room alone, I let myself have a little cry. I just needed a short pity party to let the tears wash away the way I thought things were going to go. While Jayce went out for food I washed up a bit and put on a little bit of makeup because for me, it’s like war paint. Before I give birth, I need some war paint. I feel reclaimed and ready for the night and I step forward on this unexpected path ahead, the new path to Emma.

    I was really wary of the pitocin and they knew it, so they started me on the lowest possible dose and decided to up it minimally every 30 minutes or so. My body wasn’t doing much, so I decided to get what sleep I could. Woke up early on December 20, a chilly day at Eglin AFB, ready to get moving again.

    I did laps in the hallway and I went up and down on the stair stepper my midwife put in my room. Also, a word on my midwife. Midwife Cooper, you were such an essential piece in this delivery. She empowered me, she cared about me and my baby, she counseled with me, she gave me helpful tools, and on a couple of occasions she shielded me. I can’t express my gratitude enough.

    Back to the laps around the hallway. When contractions were picking up, I’d pause and then keep on taking my little laps. Because I’ve had a cesarean doctors like to keep me on continued monitoring during delivery, which I appreciate. In the past it meant that once I got to the hospital I’d need to be hooked up to the blue and pink contraction and fetal heart rate monitors in a bed. It’s part of the reason I waited as long as possible to go to the hospital for Spencer’s and Aiden’s deliveries. I didn’t want to be confined to the bed for long. Eglin had the cordless Novii contraction and fetal heart rate monitor and it was a godsend. My nurse put it on just right and knew how to handle it when it was occasionally temperamental.

    Amidst all of this Jayce was pumping me up, pushing my pitocin bag around behind me, and really was just willingly at my beck and call. He also really enjoyed watching my contractions on the screen and especially seemed to enjoy comparing mine to the two other women in the rooms around me (because for some reason we could see the progress of everyone on a screen in my room). “Whoa. That was a big one!” “Wow, that woman in room 3 is still in labor?!” “Room 2 is probably going to be done any minute now.” “Welp, room 2’s contractions slowed down again. You could totally beat her!”

    Finally things picked up enough that I decided I needed to get into the shower for a bit. I sat on the birthing ball while Jayce gently sprayed my back with water contraction after contraction for at least 30 minutes. I was in full focus mode at this point. Jayce quietly did everything I asked of him while also keeping the bathroom from flooding. These showers don’t have any sort of lip between where the water sprays and the rest of the bathroom floor, so he had like five towels on the floor soaking up the runoff by the end of it.

    When I was done in the shower, I was feeling like I was also done holding off on having my water broken. It was time. I dried off and put on my gown while Jayce let the nurses know and while they were getting my midwife Jayce put counter pressure on my back while I sat on the birthing ball again. It was then that Jayce and I looked out the window and noticed that the rain outside had a certain lightness to the way it was falling. We looked harder and realized it was part rain, part snow out there. As you can imagine, snow in Florida is a rare thing. When people see it show up for several minutes at 4:30 am on a random winter morning, it’s talked about. Seeing it during daylight hours in this moment was like magic. Something as rare and magical as a baby girl in the Porter Family.

    My midwife and a few nurses assembled in my room, I got up on the bed and laid on my side with a peanut ball between my legs and Midwife Cooper broke my water. At this point I was dilated to a 5. Based on what I was feeling, I had been hoping that I was a little further along and I noticed a chink in my mental armor starting to form. I looked up at Jayce who I could tell was starting to feel at a loss for how to help me through these more difficult contractions. He tearfully and nearly helplessly looked back at me and unspoken emotions and sentiments passed between us. I finally voiced, “I just want her to be here.” He held my gaze and our grips tightened on each other and I found the grit to keep going. I went from a 5 to holding Emma in my arms 36 minutes later and Jayce was there holding my hand and watching over me through the whole thing.

    Birthing goddess state achieved. Haha. But really, it was a sacred experience that I will always hold close to my heart. It was just the way I wanted to feel after my last delivery. She arrived at 12:21 on December 20, 2022. She had a full head of brunette hair (the two brunettes in the family were really happy to have another join the ranks) and as our second largest baby at 8 lb 9 oz.

Things that helped my mental game this time around: 

•  Knowing my why’s, which I recorded in a Note like this: 
• I feel connected to generations of women who have given birth before me. 
• I feel empowered by choosing to go unmedicated. I can do hard things. 
• I feel closer to Emma because we are doing it together. 
• I enjoy having as little intervention as possible. 

• A playlist for delivery. My favorite pump up songs in early labor were Meghan Trainor’s “Mom” and MKTO’s “Classic.” My favorite song for the later stage that will forever be Emma’s song is “I Get to Be the One” by JJ Heller. 

•  My favorite mantras that helped all through the delivery were, “I can do anything for a minute,” and “I open at the close.” I practiced thinking “I can do anything for a minute” at the gym during difficult exercises during my pregnancy and “I open at the close,” as all Potterheads know, is an important phrase from the 7th Harry Potter book. I recalled the phrase when I was on a walk listening to a labor and delivery podcast one day and thought, “THAT IS SO PERFECT FOR DELIVERY.” Go ahead, have a good chuckle now, but Harry Potter for the win yet again.

And as usual, there were some talks and quotes I listened to and read pre-delivery that were good soul food. 

 “Birth is not only about making babies. Birth is about making mothers 

— strong, competent, capable mothers 

who trust themselves and know their inner strength.” 

—Barbara Katz Rothman 

 “There is a secret in our culture and it’s not that birth is painful. 

It’s that women are strong.” 

-Laura Stavoe Harm 

 “She loved me, so I let her lead me.” 

-Sheri Dew 

 Birth is truly amazing. Emma was literally dreamed of, faithfully walked towards, and now she’s 6 months old as I finish typing this up. She came in a season already illuminated by joy in remembrance of another baby and another mother and another father. She was our best Christmas gift.