Hey everyone, Kim here! Since my daughter is already 3 months-old and the memory of my birth is already becoming foggy, and I’ve missed connecting with you all during my maternity leave, I thought now would be a good time to share my birth story.

When your memory of your first birth is a little scary (3 days of intense labour and a very eventful delivery), you’re bound to have some fears leading up to the due date. However I was surprisingly calm, probably because I was looking forward to the end of what had been a nausea ridden pregnancy, and partially because I had been so busy with photography bookings that I didn’t have a moment to really contemplate it. Thankfully, my sweet daughter Violet blessed me with a quicker birth (18 hours, but quick by my standards), but it had some chaotic moments. So here’s the birth story:

I ended up in the hospital on my due date, but instead of having a baby, I was there celebrating my 40th week with some IV and nausea meds. The midwife thought it was food poisoning, until I got home later that day and my husband AND mom became violently sick as well. While my husband lay in the fetal position waiting for the fever, chills, and profuse sweating and nausea to pass, I crossed my legs and guzzled electrolyte drinks and prayed to all the gods that I wouldn’t go into labour that night. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t freaking out a little bit.

The very next day, as soon as I started feeling better, I felt a few minor cramps. By that evening, the cramps turned into contractions. They were few and far between, so I told my husband I could go to bed, but around 11pm they were coming anywhere from 7-15 minutes apart and were more than a minute long. I didn’t actually wake him up, because I was coping well on my own with my peaceful music and essential oils, and needed him to save his energy for the harder stage that I knew was coming.

By 6am, my son was about to wake up and my husband could hear me having the contractions in the next room. He came in and was shocked to see I had been in labour all night! I reassured him that I would have gotten him if I needed him, and I was adamant that we probably had another couple of days ahead of us. Things happened quickly after that though, so my wonderful doula Jen from The Motherhood Project came over and my mom popped by to pick up our son. I remember being on our bed on all fours moaning while my son stood at the side, patting my head saying “it’s okay mommy”, which was just the sweetest moment!

I had heard about “back labour” before, but it wasn’t until experiencing it first-hand that I understood how excruciating this pain was. Each contraction felt like my tailbone was on fire, and actually had me screaming a couple of times. Thank god for Jen, who reminded me to make LOW sounds, not high-pitched screams. I needed this reminder with each contraction, and it really did make a difference, which is exactly why I think we should all have a doula for our births!

The other hardest part of my labour was the long contractions, many being over a few minutes long, but not consistently close together enough to go to the hospital. By 8am, I simply couldn’t cope anymore, and the midwife recommended we head to the hospital. After an excruciating car ride to Peace Arch Hospital (try sitting down while having back labour, it’s pure torture) I made it to my labour delivery room. The midwife believed I was about 7cm, and after I begged for an epidural they warned me that it would at least be an hour until the anesthesiologist could be there. My midwife tried to mentally prepare me for a natural birth, while the nurses scrambled to get an IV in me – not an easy feat on someone who has recently been recovering from dehydration.

Luckily the midwife determined that I was NOT actually 7cm at the next cervical exam, and had thought so due to the amniotic sac bulging out of the cervix. The anesthesiologist arrived with his magical needle, but the nurses had STILL not been able to get an IV in despite multiple jabs.

I am not exaggerating this next part: I was on my knees on the bed, slung over the back, sucking back laughing gas like my life depended on it, while nurses continued jabbing me for what felt like an eternity. I remember glancing down and seeing blood trickling down my arms and multiple bandages because they couldn’t get an IV in. A very loud drill started going off next door… yes, they were doing construction at this moment. It’s all very comical, in hindsight, and in the moment I actually didn’t care about all of the chaos because the back labour was completely consuming me.

After at least 15 jabs from multiple medical personnel at Peace Arch, an ER nurse took no mercy on my arm and slapped it around to get that damn IV in. I wanted to hug him. Let me tell you, when I got my epidural, I was EUPHORIC. I apparently started roasting my husband, announcing to the room that I would push this baby out faster than it takes him to go to the bathroom.

I could still feel the contractions with the epidural, and I felt EVERYTHING when the baby came out. I remember I just KNEW I had to push the baby out, and somehow my body just took over and the animal in me pushed through the hardest pain of my life to make it happen. They had to call an OB in because they were worried about baby’s heart rate, even though I had only been pushing for 30 minutes. I remember thinking “the only way to make this pain stop is to cause myself more pain” and I had to drum up all of strength and knowledge that I would not actually rip in half by giving that final push.

Right from the moment her head came out, I felt her head wiggling around like crazy as if she was trying to look around the room at everyone and everything. We left it a surprise to find out the sex, so when we found out it was a girl, I just remember bawling and shaking probably from all of the adrenaline. The pain was still so bad, I was shaking and actually couldn’t even hold the baby anymore, so hubby got some snuggle time in those first moments.

It took us a week to name our sweet girl, because we had to get to know her personality and try out our different choices to see what suited her the best. We chose “Violet”, a name for a girl who is soft and sweet but far from shrinking. She is the most sweet natured, calm baby, but since she was in my belly has been feisty, strong and expressive. She was already doing push-ups on my chest and looking around the room on the day she was born!  

Thank you to Stephanie at Semiahmoo Community Midwives, Jen from the Motherhood Project, and the amazing nurses and staff at Peace Arch Hospital who helped bring our daughter safely into the world. Like our midwife Steph said, “it got a little exciting there for your birth, didn’t it?” Yes, it sure did, but in hindsight it’s empowering to know I did THAT so there is nothing I can’t do. After my first birth, my husband said “women should legit rule the world”. After this birth, he said “if any man ever dares to think that men are stronger than women, he needs to watch a birth from start to finish”. Amen to that!

Here are just a couple of photos I mustered up the energy for when Violet was a week old…