the story

I wish I were a writer. Fact is, I'm not. And, regretfully, I fear that I'm not going to do Desmond's birth story justice... please keep that in mind as you read on. It was truly amazing + spectacular + awesome + wonderful. It was perfect, as she is.

Desmond's "due" date was somewhere around the 23rd of April. She arrived on the 1st of May, just as my mother, whom we call "HoneY", suspected she would. Much faster than I anticipated, too. At 9:45 the surges began. Ten minutes apart and super mild. I bathed + continued to finish a movie with Alasdair and Ben. I was even able to sleep through the 'breaks' and breath through the surges until nausea set in around 11:45. Around that time I did a lot of pacing, and attempted to sleep for short periods during breaks, which were now about 8 minutes apart. Sometime around 1:45 everything shifted gears. Surges became 2-3 minutes apart, and they came on strong. I told Ben to pack it up and call Vanessa to stay with Alasdair. Vanessa lives about 20 minutes away, via snowmobile. Fortunately we had great weather, so we didn't have that to worry about. Snow was in flurries outside. Just right. When Vanessa arrived, Ben gathered some last minute 'stuff' recommended by the doula: two towels, which were key.

The snowmobile ride to the car, which is only a little over a mile, was actually quite heavenly. The continuous bumps eased the surges. I recommend riding a snowmobile while in labor---late stages of labor, as it were, in fact.

We reached the truck at 2:55 am. I remember asking Ben to tell me I could "do this." I was certain that labor was really just gearing up and that we had a good three-four hours to go. Not so.

About 3 miles into our ride down to Salt Lake, which is 35 miles from home, the surges began to dissipate and they were replaced by a familiar pressure. Down low. Uh-oh. Any mother knows that pressure, followed by "the urge... to push." While relieved that the surges were over, I knew that pressure meant pushing and that meant baby... soon. I attempted to get my sorrels off. I got the left sorrel off. Only two layers of pants to go if I didn't want to birth my baby into my pants. Gross.

I told Ben. He told the doula. Doula said call the midwife back and report. We did. And he drove fast. fast. Not long after, my water exploded. I was stoked to have felt that---I wanted to feel it with Alasdair, no go. I longed to experience it with Desmond, rewarded! Crazy gush so it was.

Ben was on the phone with the midwife when my water broke. She told him to "put on your hazards and drive like hell." I reached down, expecting to feel a bulge. To feel her head. Nothing, yet.

I scrambled to kick my left leg out of two layers. Success.

"She's coming, babe. I think her head's coming out."

"Do we need to pull over?"

"I don't know."

I felt again. That time I felt Desmond. Her head. Before asking again, Ben pulled off into the Jeremy Ranch exit. Side of the road. Into the dirt.

By the time he put that bad boy Chevy in park, jumped out and reached my door, he saw that Desmond's head was out.

And my door was locked. Whip.
I knew it, and unlocked it just as Ben reached in to deliver our little lady before she hit the floor.

It was 3:24 am. A short 30 minutes after we had reached the truck. An even shorter two hours of true, active labor.

Holy.

Immediately, I got turned around, watching for the umbillical cord, and pulled her to my chest, wrapping her in the two towels. She cried. Ben jumped back in the driver seat and picked up the phone to greet the midwife who'd remained on the phone the whole time.

"I heard her cry. Wonderful. Now hang up, call 911, and I'll see you at the hospital."

We sat in silence for a few seconds.

"Holy shit. HOLY SHIT. Did we really just have our baby? Right here? In the truck?"

Ben called 911. Drove to the gas station. Ambulance arrived, took Desmond and I on the gurny... all was good. All was perfect, actually. So perfect that it only took Ben three baby wipes to clean up the mess in the truck.

Desmond was perfectly healthy. Just a bit cold, which was easily remedied.

7lbs 10oz. 19.5 inches. Bits of dark hair. Lovely almond eyes. Sweet olive skin.
Sleepy, sleepy lady so she is.

We spent a night in the hospital, arriving back home Saturday afternoon.

That is her story. Born in a Chevy 2500 on the side of the highway.