The Birth Story of Jack Taylor

Written by Gigi S:

Around 3pm on Saturday august 6th, we were grocery shopping and I started to feel crampy and achy with a few surges of pain in my lower abdomen/pelvis..

7pm I decided not to go to a church event and put my comfy robe on and relax on the couch because sitting down was the most uncomfortable position i could find and I thought I could be in early labor…

Josh went out to get chicken food and feed the chickens, and I enjoyed what could be the last movements of him in my belly and quiet time of prayer and reflection with Jesus as I prepared my heart for resting in Him and how perfectly he has provided for us, thinking about if this was really it.

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On Sunday morning, much to my disappointment, I woke up feeling completely fine with not a single sign of labor beginning at all. I figured my pain yesterday must’ve been Braxton hicks, and convinced myself that it would probably be another week until he was here. Of course, first time moms usually go at least a week passed their “due” date— and mine wasn’t till Wednesday. So I went about my day as normal… went to Marshalls with my mom, as per usual. We went to my parents house for dinner on Sunday night, and I ate a nice big tuna steak, snap peas and potatoes— (which I’m glad I didn’t know I would be throwing up a few hours later) thanks mom and dad!

After dinner, I started feeling crampy again (around 7:30pm) so I laid on the couch across from my dad, who was recovering dramatically from a swollen bee sting. I had convinced myself I wouldn’t be in labor for another week so I really didn’t think much of it. Until I had one contraction— and thought “oh wow that was really intense.”

We said goodbye to my parents and I said to my mom at this point half joking: “might be calling you later tonight.” (Afterwards we talked about this and she said she could tell by my face I was a little startled by how serious they felt and she knew it was happening that night. Obviously, moms always know).

When we got home, josh asked if I wanted to watch Maid in Manhattan (don’t hate I love an early 2000’s RomCom) to get my mind off things, and I said sure. But there was no time. By this point it was 8:30 and I was in the bathroom sitting on the toilet, noticing that contractions felt on top of each other (I tried to time them but all I got was “they are way too close and I’m barely getting a break”) so I texted my mom the very detailed message at 8:34pm “need you to come now”.

She came and started praying over me while Josh started getting the pool ready. (You guys. My mom. No way I could have done it without her… it brought me so much comfort to know that she was there, interceding for me. I’m so grateful for her). I was going back and forth on if to call my midwife because I just didn’t think things would escalate that quickly— haha. Around 9:15, the contractions were so strong I started throwing up. Then I thought, “screw it I’m calling Samm (my midwife).” Her voice was unrealistically calm as she literally always is, and I remember her listening to me go through a contraction and then honestly I don’t remember what she said, but I do remember thinking “someone better be on their way” (lol) and Jaci was.

Jaci (my midwife’s assistant and L&D nurse aka my second pregnancy fairy godmother) arrived just before 10pm and immediately documented active labor. She listened to Jack’s heartbeat and took my blood pressure and everything was good. I was still throwing up with each contraction and I only had time to drink water in-between before the next one came. I waited to get in the pool until Jaci was there and gave me the ok (I had heard it can slow things down and even though I desperately wanted a break, Samm advised me not to get in until later).

However, once I got in I was dreadfully disappointed that I felt like it gave me no relief. I was still in disbelief that my contractions were so intense and frequent. I was so shocked, that I felt like I never had time to get in a good head space. I couldn’t think straight, let alone call my affirmations to mind. All I could do was get through the next wave.

It was going nothing at all like I expected it to… and in hindsight, I’m full of gratitude for the way that God prepared my heart for this. I spent hours upon hours throughout my pregnancy meditating on the Truth, letting go of fear, and surrendering my idea of a perfect labor to WHATEVER God had planned— after all, He had gone before me and already prepared the way. By the time I was 39 weeks, I was fully trusting in Him regardless of the direction things went, and I don’t think I would have been able to do it had that not happened already in my heart! The affirmations I rehearsed over and over again, the mental picture I kept envisioning, and the truth already planted so deeply in me kept my subconscious going (which my body responded to) when my mind couldn’t get in the game. Which was 90% of my labor.

Josh. Let me tell you about my man. 100% committed to me the entire time. He was speaking my affirmations to me (after I yelled at him back at the 9pm mark and told him if he was going to talk to say something useful… sorry babe). He was holding my puke bowl, reminding me to drink, rubbing my back… my solid rock throughout. I was so frustrated in the moment because I thought I was going to be mentally tough like I practiced, but it felt like I couldn’t catch up to what was happening in my mind. He made sure to be that voice of truth in my head when i couldn’t hear it for myself.

Everything was progressing quickly (unbeknownst to me) and around 11pm, Samm and Alex (pregnancy fairy godmother number 3) arrived. Samm checked Jacks heart rate again and everything was good. (This happened throughout multiple times, I just only remember a couple).

Around 12am, I was still in the pool and was beginning to feel overwhelmed. I was in transition. Even though I had been thinking it the whole time to myself, I kept the courage to NOT say the words out loud until this moment: “I can’t do this. We need to go to the hospital. I need an epidural.” I *believe* this was also around the time I yelled “this is f****** hard.” It was getting REAL.

Samm (again, almost annoyingly calm) asked if I wanted to be checked and I said yes. This was the first time in my pregnancy I had any type of cervical exam! Everyone in the room knew we were almost there, except me, still in disbelief.

I laid on the bed and she said “his head is RIGHT THERE, we are not going anywhere!” I felt an internal surge of hope even though I somehow mentally thought “I don’t believe her at all, there’s no way he’s already there!”

I kept laboring on my bed and Alex was holding my leg, which was so helpful. The next thing I knew, it was 1:52am and my water broke. I thought “oh gosh I hope it didn’t get on her, ew.” Josh, my mom, (now only ever referred to as “Nona”) Samm, Jaci, and Alex were resounding with praise. Every time I went through a surge and thought “i can’t do this” their voices were there saying “you’ve got this, you’re doing amazing, you’re almost there, you can do this!” I’ve honestly never felt so loved or supported in my entire life. Their belief in me carried me when I lost belief in myself.

After my water broke, I went to the bathroom to labor on the toilet because that’s where I felt i made the most progress. (Makes sense because that’s where we are used to letting our pelvic floor relax!)

Pretty much immediately after my water broke, I felt my body start to push. I still felt out of control— but now I knew what was happening. I can’t explain how GOOD the relief of my body pushing felt! It was the first time in my labor I didn’t feel any pain. While i was on the toilet, I felt him drop and said, *verbatim* “holy s***, he’s coming!”

I got on all fours and just kept breathing. It felt like it was happening in slow motion, but I knew this was healthy. I didn’t want to rush or push when my body didn’t tell me to, so I waited until it happened instinctually without me putting forth my own effort. Samm’s voice during this part stuck out to me, because she was coaching me through my breathing and affirming me every single time I let my body do the work.

At 2:52 on the dot, Jack Taylor Spera joined us with his perfect little head full of hair. Samm passed him to me and holding him for the first time, locking eyes with the little person I prayed for and dreamed about for so long— it was pure magic. Nothing from the last 6 hours mattered at all. He was here.

The next hour was bliss. I watched my husband become a father (a role which he fell into effortlessly and is of course, mind blowingly incredible at). We had our golden hour together in bed and he latched perfectly. I was at peace.

But my story isn’t over— we hit a snag, kind of literally. My placenta was comfy in the body it sustained life for Jack in and decided not to come join the party. My amazing team was still super calm, taking steps to coax/massage it out, and since Jack was safely earth side and his cord already cut after turning grey, I agreed to a shot of pitocin to accelerate the process, which unfortunately did not. (I did, however, again curse at Jaci who administered it to me. Lol).

At this point, Samm had to make a call. It may surprise you that I’m actually happy to share this part of my story— because first of all, I was so serious when I said I trusted whatever God’s plan was for Jack’s birth because I had total peace He had gone before me. And second, I totally trusted my team to assess the situation and do the right thing. Samm knew that she could massage and work my placenta out more aggressively, but that also carried the risk of hemorrhage involved. She talked to me and my family and told us she thought it was best if we visit the hospital— we all agreed.

My life was not in danger. My baby was safe and healthy. To me, this part of my story is a beautiful example of choosing a provider you fully trust and the safety of having someone in your corner who will do the right thing. Plus, it gets better.

Samm called the hospital (where I had received partial care in case a situation like this arose) and they were expecting me. The only midwife I met with at the hospital during my pregnancy, was on call that night. Sweet angel midwife Vicki and the best nurse I’ve ever received care from, Megan. (I mean, come on how faithful is God in the details!) By the time I arrived, she said my placenta was ready to go and that it must’ve just needed more time. There, thankfully without any more drugs, an IV, or any invasive procedures, she removed my placenta in an environment that was fully prepared to handle any hemorrhage or emergent situation that could have happened. I felt safe and relieved. Then she stitched my minor first degree tear, got me some snacks, and after a total of 2 hours at the hospital, we were on our way home.

I can honestly say I don’t have a single regret. This is my story and I’m SO proud of it! It couldn’t have been further from my expectation of what my first labor would look like, but it was better than I could’ve imagined.

I still believe that birth can be pain free, and even though I didn’t have that experience, it doesn’t change the fact that I love the way my baby entered this world too! It was all hands on deck for our captain Jack, who wanted to make a fast and furious 5 hour entrance here, in power and strength. Maybe a reflection of who our little man will be.