Eleanor's Birth Story 💌

I finally got around to writing Elle’s birth story. During my pregnancy I asked my mom (and really every mom I knew) to recount every minute of labor. I knew that my labor was something I wanted to document for our daughter one day, so here it is.

My mom flew in on July 23, a few days before what we thought would be my due date. We kept ourselves busy with getting the house ready, buying some last minute things like a baby bath tub + a rocking chair, and walking A TON. People told me that helps induce labor, but I think I took it a little too far. The Monday before Elle was born we went down to Santa Monica and walked along the ocean for a few hours, totaling 7 miles. You could say I was desperate for her to come out.

Finally I met with our midwife, Linda on August 5th. She said I was progressing, 2.5 cm dilated and 90% effaced. She said that since it was over a week past my due date, we might want to think about scheduling a time to be induced. At first I was so sad because I really didn’t want to be induced and get pitocin (I heard it makes the contractions way more painful…as if there was a way child birth could be even more painful than what I already was imagining). After talking with a few other mamas who had gone through a similar experience, I decided to look at the bright side. At least we could know when she was coming and could prepare our hearts. We scheduled the appointment for the next day, August 6th at 8am. My mom and I left the appointment and decided to make the most of my last day being baby-free. We went to my favorite place to celebrate—Malibu Café. Throughout college this was the place I went with my closest girlfriends to celebrate the end of another year, to celebrate birthdays, my graduation, my engagement and even to mourn when a friend was going through something hard. My mom and I sat outside and talked about what I was like as a baby and what my mom could remember from her labor with me. It was so fitting to be there on the eve of Elle’s birth.

That night when Jeffrey got home we made a pot roast and sat around + talked + laughed and played three-person Euchre. I even had a small celebratory glass of red wine because we knew we were going to meet our daughter within a few hours. Then my in laws, who had driven down that afternoon so they could be there for the birth, came over to say hi and catch up a little. It was about 10pm when we finally climbed in bed and prayed over our daughter and her birth. We did some things married people do and then it was lights out…except how can you sleep when you know that you are going to meet the love of your life the next day?!?

I tossed and turned for what seemed to be an hour. I couldn’t get comfortable. My stomach felt funny, kind of like butterflies. Around 11:30pm, I had a thought. These butterflies seem to be coming in waves…every few minutes. Maybe…”Jeffrey wake up. I think I’m having contractions…” He didn’t really believe me at first, which was fair because I had been saying that for the past few weeks. But just to be sure I had him time them to see how long the contractions lasted and how far apart they were. 30 seconds long...9 minutes apart. 45 seconds long…6 minutes apart. It jumped around like this for a while. I decided to run a warm bath and relax as much as I could. We had been instructed by Linda to wait until the contractions were a minute long, 3-4 minutes apart for at least 1 hour. An hour later that’s exactly what we were experiencing. We woke up my mom, got dressed and grabbed our bags. On the way to the hospital we called ahead to let them know we were coming in. At this point they weren’t painful, just more uncomfortable than anything. We checked in and they showed us our first room (of THREE we would be in that day). This was the laboring room which was so so small—a bed for me, a sofa chair for Jeffrey, a small chair they brought in for my mom and the worst part—a connecting bathroom to another poor mama in labor. You would think it could be comforting to hear another person going through the same pain you are…but when three women go through that room and have their babies before you, it starts to become less comforting and more annoying.

The nurse came in and examined me. I was only 3 cm dilated + still had a long way to go. They connected me to a machine with monitors around my stomach to measure the baby’s heart rate and my contractions. The routine for the next 7 hours was 20 minutes with the monitor on, and then 40 minutes to walk around or get up and stretch. We brought SO much stuff to the hospital with us. A mini cooler with Gatorade, waters, cold brew coffee (thanks Chad for getting us hooked), snacks of all kinds, cards, a laptop with some DVDs (apparently I thought that when I was in labor Justifiedwould be a good show to watch?!?!). It’s hilarious looking back because I was in no place to play a round of cards. I could barely keep my eyes open, let alone call trump. Lessons for next time. In the beginning we used the 40 minutes to walk the empty halls of the hospital together, stopping for contractions. Around 3am they started to get really painful. This is the first time I asked for the epidural.

Backstory on our birthing plan—Jeffrey and I did the Bradley classes, which are the modern day Lamaze classes from our parents’ generation. We had some friends + family who took the classes and said it really helped with relaxation techniques and teaching the husband how to coach the wife through labor. Our first meeting we walked in and met our coach and the other couple who was also expecting their first child. The first thing our coach Frances said was “I am so thankful you are all choosing to have a drug-free birth experience.” Jeffrey and I locked eyes…. We what now? It turns out a natural child birth DOES NOT mean just vaginal (as opposed to c-section), it means no epidural and no pain relievers.

We had not yet decided that this is what we wanted. It was almost humorous because for the span of the 12 week course we kind of felt like frauds in the class, hoping no one would find out that we weren’t 100% convinced on the drug-free route. The class was really helpful and by the end of the 12 weeks our plan was to try to do it naturally, but if the pain got too unbearable, we would ask for the epidural. No pressure either way.  

Okay back to the part where I was crying for the epidural (did I say crying earlier? Yeah I was basically a mess around 3am). I told Jeffrey that I didn’t think I could do it. I didn’t feel like I was progressing at all and I needed a break from the contractions which were coming every 3 minutes at this point. Jeffrey patiently listened and said “Why don’t we wait until Linda gets here in a few hours. She can check you and if you still want it at that point, then we can get it.” Sneaky husband. By the time Linda got there at 8:30am I had pretty much figured out how to breathe through each contraction, instead of tensing up and fighting them. When Linda got in it was as if a wave of relief swept over me. The hard part was behind us…kind of. Linda did another exam and I was 6cm dilated so I was ready to move into the second room: the delivery room! This room was SO much bigger, with big windows, natural lighting and a PRIVATE bathroom, can I get an amen?!? As soon as we moved into that room I decided it was a good time to take a shower so I could feel fresh and ready for the second stage of labor. As I was walking to the shower I felt a new sensation—and urge to push. Turns out this is your body’s way of telling you that the baby is really on its way. I was fully dilated and it was finally time to meet our baby!! We had a whole team of nurses in the room to help with this next stage of labor (one whose name was Happy, I kid you not). They were all so nice and kept telling me that we had gotten the “lucky room”. Apparently the last woman to use this room only pushed for 6 minutes and had her baby. I remember my mom leaning over and whispering “by noon at the latest this will all be over.” It was 11:30am at this point.

It turns out that the room was not so lucky for me. 2.5 hours later I was still on that bed with no baby. I honestly thought something was wrong with me because my expectations were that basically sneezing would shoot this baby out. But pushing was hard. And by this point I had not slept in 30 hours. I was tired and hungry and emotional and why does everyone’s breath smell so bad?!?! A little irritated too I’d say. At one point I started to really lose it. I told Linda “I really don’t think she’s coming out this way. SO what is plan B?” Linda was so wonderful and patient and just encouraged me that every push was getting me closer and closer to meeting our daughter. She explained that the hardest part was pushing her head over my pubic bone. I would push for 10 seconds and she would start to travel down, but then I would have to stop to catch my breath and she would move back a little. I just needed to take a really deep breath, and push as long and hard as I could. (This was the point where I realized why people say that labor is a marathon. I think I had only trained for a half…or maybe a 10K..) Finally I pushed and she made it over that bone and was crowning. Everyone kept yelling “We can see the head! She has a lot of hair!!” I have NO recollection of this but Jeffrey told me in this moment I asked “Does she have red hair?!” Shout out to my brother Andy.

Once she crowned it was a few set of pushes and out she came. Linda put her on my chest and we heard the most beautiful sound: her first cry (that sound isn’t as beautiful now, but the first of everything is always so exciting). Jeffrey finally let go of his composure and we both just bawled our eyes out. She was the most beautiful little baby with the darkest brown hair and bluest eyes. I kept repeating. “mama loves you” over and over again. Pretty quickly after this I had my first (of many to come) mom scares. They took her away for a second to give her a bath and take her weight/height. A few minutes later the nurses were all talking quickly, saying that her temperature had dropped and they were afraid she might have some amniotic fluid in her lungs. Moments later she was whisked away to the NICU with Jeffrey and I was left in the room feeling so helpless and scared. I was crying and praying and waiting for an update while Linda stitched and cleaned me up. (side note: prior to giving birth, I was MOST terrified of the tearing and mending. Now I can say that this is honestly the LAST thing you have to worry about. Because of the trauma your body has just gone through, you don’t feel either of these things, praise the Lord).

As soon as they were done with me, a nurse took me in a wheelchair to go find our baby in the NICU. As I was headed down the hallway, around the corner comes Jeffrey wheeling our baby girl in an incubator. It was just a scare, but she was healthy! This was honestly the sweetest memory from that day. Being reunited as a family. At this exact moment, over the loud speakers we heard our lullaby. This hospital plays a lullaby every time a baby is born over the speakers of the whole hospital. Of course this made me even more of a mess (basically you cry a lot when you have a baby). We all went to our new room in postpartum where we had family and friends waiting to meet the newest member of the Chun-Chapman family. So many pictures. So much joy + laughter and more tears.

After everyone had left that night, I climbed in the twin bed with Jeffrey and we held our daughter between us. Just marveling at her little fingers and toes and how just 15 hours ago she was inside me. In the wee hours of the morning we decided she was going to be Eleanor Grace Chapman. Eleanor means shining light which we loved. Her middle name was to remind us of how God showed us so much grace throughout our lives, including this very child.

I was not someone who had always dreamed of having children or being a mom. When I was in high school I remember thinking that I wasn’t even sure I wanted to get married, let alone have kids. A series of bad relationships turned me away from the idea and convinced me that I could never be a good wife or mom. But when you become Christian, everything changes. Over the past 8 years God has really softened my heart and changed my desires. I still remember being shocked at my own words when I told Jeffrey I wanted to be a young mom (26 is young right??). From finding out we were pregnant to the 10 months of carrying our daughter (it’s 10 months people, not 9. No one ever tells you that!), to going through the experience of birth, there have been moments when those old thoughts crept back into my head. They’d say “You are not mom material. You are not faithful or selfless or loving enough. You will fail.” God has always rebuttaled those lies and reminded me that I belong to him now and he created me to be a wife and mother. On top of that, our little shining light, full of grace is the perfect reminder I need daily.