My Birth Story

Dec 18

The water rolled off my swim cap and over my face as my head emerged from the water, huffing and puffing as I grabbed onto the wall of the pool. A threshold swim at 37 weeks pregnant was no joke. I didn’t know it then, but on the afternoon of April 19th, I was doing my last pool swim while pregnant. I hadn’t done a triathlon or running race since earlier in pregnancy, but I was grateful my body and mind allowed me to continue training (even with frequent pee breaks!) and enjoy most of the things I loved during my pregnancy.

Fast forward to 11:55 PM on April 19th. I was finally climbing into bed to get some sleep. I had been restless all day, finishing small work tasks, getting in my workout, and cleaning and organizing random things around the house. As a bit of a workaholic and certified neat freak, this day wasn’t unusual for me, even at 37 weeks and 5 days pregnant.

As I laid my head on the pillow, I felt a trickle in my pants. Did I just pee myself? Not totally out of the ordinary at full term. I laid still, but the coolness continued leaking through my underwear and PJ pants. I shook my husband, who had been asleep for two hours.

“Hmmm?”
“I think my water is breaking.”
“It definitely isn’t. You’re probably peeing.” (Classic husband response!)

I got up and walked to the bathroom. Fluid kept trickling out. This was definitely not pee.

“Ryan! My water is definitely breaking. Look!”
“Oh, shit! It is!”

As I sat on the toilet waiting for my midwife to call back, I started shaking and shivering uncontrollably, my teeth chattering as if I was standing naked outside on a 32-degree day. The labor shakes. It hit me—Oh my gosh, this baby is coming! Labor is starting!

I had planned to finish everything over the weekend—prepping meals, installing the car seat, cleaning the house, and packing my hospital bag. I sighed deeply as my first lesson of motherhood hit me: I cannot control the uncontrollables, and the Universe always has its own plan.

I frantically packed my hospital bag, texted my doula to tell her my water broke, emailed my boss that my maternity leave was starting, and climbed back into bed to try to sleep before contractions began.

After a few hours of on-and-off sleep, my contractions became too intense to ignore.

I got up, made some toast, filled my water bottle with electrolytes, and started doing exercises on the birthing ball in the living room. Eventually, I moved to the tub. Our sweet dog, Jameson, curled up on the bathroom floor next to me as I started timing my contractions.

At 5:30 AM, I called for Ryan and demanded, “Vacuum the car and install the car seat!”

“We can’t bring the baby home in a car filled with dog hair!” (P.S. A second lesson of motherhood—your child will sometimes be covered in dog hair, and they’ll even eat it, and they’ll be OK.)

As most husbands know, it’s not worth arguing with a pregnant wife, especially if she’s in labor. Ryan sweetly obliged.

Shortly after, my doula called. My contractions were now 3–6 minutes apart, lasting 1–1.5 minutes, and growing in intensity. We agreed it was time to head to the hospital.

We arrived at the hospital shortly before 8 AM on April 20th. It was a beautiful, frigid bluebird day in Colorado. We met our doula, Lisa, in the parking lot and decided to walk outside to try and pick things up before checking in. The wind was so gnarly, though, and I decided to go inside and get admitted—I was just too cold.

Once settled in our room, I began walking around the labor unit, raising one leg with each contraction while Lisa applied counterpressure and Ryan supported me. Lisa then got me cozy in bed with a peanut ball, eye mask, and my meditation app while her acupuncturist worked magic to progress my labor. Soon, contractions became more intense and about 2 minutes apart.

I eventually got in the tub and melted into the warm water, feeling safe and surrounded by my birth team—Ryan, Lisa, our incredible nurse Nicole, and our amazing midwife Jess.

Nicole and Jess checked on me and Baby every 30 minutes, listening to Baby’s heartbeat with a Doppler and offering love and encouragement. With Lisa and Ryan’s help, I alternated between the tub and toilet every 30–45 minutes, stayed hydrated, and fueled. The contractions were incredibly intense. I felt my Baby’s head descend deeper into my pelvis and eventually entered that altered state of consciousness many speak about during labor.

Lisa and Ryan cared for me, reminding me of my power and helping me visualize climbing hill repeats on my bike. I repeated my mantra, the one I’d said to Baby every night: We are strong, we are powerful, we are healthy, we are brave, we are loved, and we are worthy of each other.

I was deep in labor. My midwife checked me and said I was very close to meeting my Baby. I didn’t want to know my progress during labor—I didn’t want numbers to discourage me or take me out of the present moment. Lisa and Jess helped position me with a peanut ball in the tub to help my cervix get to 10 cm.

Then came the “resting phase,” a brief calm before pushing. I sat on the toilet, practicing some pushes, before moving to the bed. To my surprise, the only position I wanted to push in was on my back. My contractions had spaced out, so I agreed to a small dose of Pitocin to bring them closer together. At this point, I was ready to meet my Baby!

During each contraction, Lisa and Nicole held my legs while I pushed with everything I had. My midwife meticulously worked with oil and warm compresses to ease Baby’s head as it crowned. Ryan stood next to her, ready to catch our Baby.

After 1 hour and 45 minutes of pushing, Jess helped Ryan catch our baby.

“It’s a boy!” Ryan yelled as he placed Jack Everett Dreyer on my chest at 7:35 PM on April 20th, nearly 12 hours after we arrived at the hospital.

Pure joy, relief, and exhaustion washed over me as I held Jack. Surrounded by my husband and the incredible birth team who reminded me of my strength during the most vulnerable and challenging moments, I knew I wanted to help other women and their partners through the life-changing journey of pregnancy, birth, and motherhood.