05/24/2025
The Birth of Archer
On the day before Archie’s birth, I found myself feeling reflective and emotional. I walked one of my boys to the playground and thought back on the whirlwind that the past eight years as a mom has been. That evening I couldn’t help but feel like baby was coming soon.
The next morning, I woke up unusually early and full of energy. After getting my boys ready for school, I began feeling light cramps, but after weeks of prodromal labor, I didn’t think much of it. As got ready to leave the house for a quick coffee run, my water broke—my first time going into spontaneous labor after three inductions.
I gathered myself, notified my birth team, and yes—still stopped for coffee. I returned home to pack and prepare, but when I noticed meconium-stained fluid, I headed directly to the birth center. Thankfully, baby was stable and I was admitted. I labored in the tub, grounding myself in music, prayer, breath, and intention. My husband, currently deployed, stayed on the phone with me and talked me through the contractions as they became stronger. Eventually, the room was silent and peaceful as birth became imminent.
Labor had intensified quickly, as it tends to for me, and soon I felt the familiar wave of self-doubt that signals transition. I knew this only meant I was close to meeting my baby. I tried to rest on the bed to regain energy, but baby had other plans. Within a few minutes it was time to push. Unlike my labor which had been quiet and tranquil, this phase was loud, intense, and primal. Eventually, sweet baby Archie was born into my arms and joy and relief washed over me.
But my joy quickly turned to concern—he wasn’t vigorous and had trouble initiating strong respirations. My midwife began PPV and eventually we transferred to Vanderbilt. Initially, he stabilized, but by the next morning, Archie’s condition had declined. He was admitted to the NICU with meconium aspiration and PPHN.
The days that followed were a blur of uncertainty, fear, and prayer. Slowly, Archie turned a corner. He was weaned off oxygen, began feeding on his own, and we were eventually moved to a family room to prepare for discharge.
Coming home with him was the most profound relief. While his father wasn’t physically present, his love was deeply felt. Archie is expected to make a full recovery, and we are so happy and grateful for him, and all those who supported us along this journey.
I share this story because, as a birth worker, I’ve had the honor of supporting many mothers through moments like this. I want to be clear: birth complications can happen to anyone. We can arm ourselves with evidence-based knowledge, plan intentionally, and choose strong support teams—but the very nature of birth is unpredictable. The self-doubt and fear that circulate after an experience like this—the “what ifs,” the “why didn’t I”—are all-consuming. But hear me clearly: it’s not your fault.
Birth is as raw as it is sacred. And even in the hardest moments, there is profound beauty. Welcome home, Archie. You are so loved.
