2/9/12

My First Midwife Experience


I can't tell you how many times I have sat down to write this post. This is such a monumental story.  It is such an intricate story.  It's just plain hard to write.

But here goes...

A few months back, I quit my job (hooray!!) and took a week off before starting my new job.  That week was the week of my sister, Megan's due date. Perfect timing, huh?


Isn't she pretty?

The Friday before I quit my job, a friend asked me what I was doing the week I had off.   I mentioned hanging out with my sister in her ripening state.  The conversation lead to birth stories and the like.  She asked if I had ever been in the room with any of my sisters during their labor, and I said no...

But that I had walked in on my sister in transition, hanging over her husband moaning.  It was horrifying because I hate seeing any of my sisters in pain.  It was also horrifying because of the non-human sounds coming from my gorgeous sister.  I was a touch disturbed and majorly terrified of labor after seeing that scene.  I shut the door, shuttered, and decided I was not going to talk about what I had witnessed.  

Moving on...

I got a call from Megan that week.  She was going into labor, and since my other sisters were all away, and our mother had to work, I was up to bat to take care of my sister's first born, Duncan.  Psssh.  I can totally do this, I thought.


When I got there, Megan was laboring in the tub like a champ.  She had done this at the hospital with #1 and had great success.  

After a while, Duncan became aware of his mother's pain and started to freak out.  I decided it was time for us to go outside but I could NOT find his shoes.  

From the bedroom I heard my brother-in-law yell, "Robin! Get your sister's shoes!".  Those I could find.

I put Duncan in the play room and ran downstairs to grab my sisters shoes and jacket.  Even though it was November, my panicked mind picked up her sandals.  Stupid panicked mind.

Looking back I know why I was panicking.  I could hear Megan telling Bobby, "I'm sorry- he's here.  He's here, Bobby. I can't make it."

My sister had labored so well, that she was already to push.  TO PUSH, people!

My sister waddled down the hall, where I met her with her sandals and jacket.  Then she leaned over me, wrapped her arms around my neck and began to moaning. The exact scenario I had told my friend about.  The exact scenario I had been so scared by.  Only this time, it was me my sister was holding onto. Only this time I was not going to get to just close the door and walk out.

Only this time, I was not afraid.  I was ready to help.  Thank you, God.

Megan made it to the basement in her sandals (I'm such an idiot) and got into the garage where she promptly alerted her husband and I, that she was not going to make it to the hospital.  The baby was going to be here within a matter of seconds, and she was either going to have the baby in the car, or in the basement. 

My brother-in-law, being the sound of mind person in the room (remember the sandals?), brought her back into the house.  At which point, I collected Duncan and ran upstairs to call 911.  

All this while Duncan had been in my arms, because he was crying seeing his mother in pain.  Earlier in the day he wrapped his little arms around her leg while she was having a contraction and then when she was finished, he stepped back and said "All dun?".  Buuuh. Broke my heart. 

I run upstairs, Duncan in hand, to call 911.  Instead, I called my father.  Again... I am NOT the smartest person in a state of chaos.  Good thing I did call him, because that is how I found out he was in the driveway.  As I ran downstairs to unlock the door for him, I heard the sweetest sound.  Baby Whit crying.  He was here!  HE was here!

He was here?

I opened the door and tried to explain to Papa what was happening.  I'm sure I was very clear and he understood perfectly. Sike.

Bobby and Megan had somehow made it back into the house and (wisely) chose the laundry room to deliver the little man. One tiny push, and Bobby caught Whit!

I should mention here, that Megan is an RN.  She knew what was going on during this whole thing, and she was completely coherent.  Just a little too good at giving birth.  

Back upstairs, I finally called 911. One small problem; I could not remember their address.  

Side note- this is simply unforgivable is because I lived there for 9 months in 2008. 

I grabbed an envelope and could not to read their address to the dispatcher because my hands were shaking so violently.  I laid the envelope down on the table and read it to her.  

My father loves to tell the story of what I looked like while calling 911. He likens it to me aggressively exfoliating my face with my cell phone.

Laugh it up, Papa.

At this point, baby Whit was eating, Duncan was being taken care of by Papa, and the ambulance had arrived.  

I started to call the family and tell them their grandchild/nephew had arrived. Three of the six I called thought I was joking, and one had to call me back five minutes later because she was so in shock she didn't understand fully.  You think you're in shock, sista? 

Megs, baby daddy and baby went to the hospital and were released that evening.  Whit is healthy, beautiful and the same can obviously be said about Megan, my hero.

Here are some pictures of the wonder boy.  

Yes- I am responsible for the hat.  It was all I could find at the house. 



Barrett Whitlow with Aunt Katie


The family


Brothers. Awwwwww.


I think Whit farted in his arms. Either that or Duncan just realized he has competition in the cuteness department


Catcher/Father and son and son


Tissues, please.


Barrett Whitlow Collier.  


Cute hat from his great Aunt 









It was one of the craziest days of my life, hands down.  But it does make me appreciate my sister (and my brother, the catcher) so much more.  I mean, she did at home what most people can't do drug free in a hospital.  And Bobby... he was so calm!  I just made a series of idiotic decisions that just happened to not hurt anyone.

The number one question I get after I tell this story is; are you afraid of having babies now?

I can honestly say I am less afraid now than I was before. Mostly because I was uncertain about a lot of what goes on during labor and delivery. Now, I am not uncertain at all. Not one bit. Nope. I am 100% clear on the process.  Suuuper knowledgable. No fear of the unknown.

Nope. Just a rational fear of the known. 

Happy 3 Month Birthday Whit! 


P.S. I am sure there are a few questions you have.  Questions too personal/schmawkward to talk about here.  Email me, or comment below.  I'll tell you everything I now know.  Happy to help.



3 comments:

  1. Haha Robin!

    Now you know why, in the old days, they sent supernumeraries away by telling them, "Go boil a big pot of water!" It got 'em out of the way for a long time by making them do something (potentially) useful. I suppose in your case it might run the risk of setting the house on fire. Win some, lose some.

    By the way, the aunt's hat looks much better than the "VT" version. Just my opinion.

    Congratulations,
    ---Doug C.

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  2. Robin, wow, this is a once in a lifetime story. Amazing. God is good! Enjoy your time with your new nephew!! Man you have a lot of nephews! Blessings, Emily Pritchett

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  3. Sister! I loved reading your account of how the day went down! You did great, and I am so thankful that you were there with us...God is good. I love you so much!

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