One month ago, after a long and arduous pregnancy, Lauren and I were thrilled to welcome our first child, Eleanor. In honor of that momentous day, we wanted to present the story of how she came into our lives.

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March 5th had already been marked in our calendar. At 41.5 weeks pregnant, this was the day that Lauren was scheduled for induction. We felt a lot of trepidation at this, since we had our hearts set on a natural hospital birth, with as little intervention as possible, but we had made our peace with it in order to ensure our little one would arrive in the best health possible. It was Eleanor, however, who had other plans.

Lauren awoke at 4:45am to the new sensation of spontaneous labor contractions—more regular and more intense than any she had previously experienced. Knowing how important it was to store up energy and stay relaxed, Lauren calmly documented the frequency, clued in our doula, Jessalyn, and let me sleep—she even reminded me to re-enable Do Not Disturb mode when it automatically turned off, which I dutifully did, unaware of what was occurring. She and Sunny puttered around the house, making a light breakfast of Greek yogurt and dried cherries, listening to Enya, and watching the sun rise over the back garden with a hot cup of tea.

When I awoke at 7:40am, I saw all the texts between Lauren and Jessalyn and knew that something was up. I came downstairs and confirmed the good news—that baby was coming all on their own. Lauren’s face, at this point, was alternating between intense focus, when the contractions were happening, and serene relief in between. I got out the app we had downloaded for this purpose and started tracking the contraction frequency and duration.

We passed the next few hours eating (I made blueberry protein pancakes and reheated some carne asada fries), singing and dancing, and cuddling with Sunny. We even got a few pictures documenting the morning before the contractions became so intense that all other concerns fell away. I practiced several of the coping techniques we had learned at prenatal yoga—sitting on the birth ball, back rubs, counterpressure, and “shaking the apples”, the latter of which was most effective since Lauren found the jiggling sensation very distracting! We debated when we should ask Jessalyn to join us and finally did so at around 1pm. I was grateful when she arrived to help with the hands-on techniques, which she did took over from that point until Eleanor was born that evening. As we waited for Lydia, the last member of our birth team, we danced together along to the laboring playlist I had made for Lauren on Amazon Music (with her favorite 90s rock and pop songs, interspersed with Broadway showtunes and classic rock). Sunny even joined in for a dance or two. But the dancing was harder than we anticipated, since the contractions were increasing in frequency and Lauren found it difficult to keep moving when each wave hit. It was challenging and painful to watch, but I took solace in the knowledge that each contraction was bringing the baby closer to us—something that had been emphasized in several of our classes and doula visits.

While we danced, shook, timed contractions, and occasionally rested, Jessalyn and I kept checking in on Lauren, to make sure we would know when she felt it was time to go. Shortly after Lydia arrived at 2:30pm, Lauren's contraction frequency reached 3 minutes consistently and that moment came. We said goodbye to Sunny, put him in his crate (my parents would be coming to pick him up to take him to their house for a few nights), and piled into the car with Jessalyn at the wheel (Lydia driving separately). I was grateful that we had been well-prepared and had already packed most of the things we would need into the car weeks ago, so there were only a few often-used items to grab. As Jessalyn drove us carefully to Eden Medical Center, I accompanied Lauren in the back seat to support her (this time using a battery-powered massager borrowed from a friend).

30 minutes later, we all arrived at Eden at 3:45pm and got checked into our labor and delivery room. I set up the music using a portable speaker, Lydia lit the LED “candles”, and the nurse got Lauren hooked up to the monitor and started the admission strip. We had a brief scare when the nurse noted that the contractions were not very regular, asking us how we would like to handle it in the event that dilation is minimal: “Do you want to go back home, or get induced?” Disliking either option, we requested to defer the decision until it was necessary; luckily the result of the cervical check showed Lauren was completely effaced and at least 3cm dilated, so no such decision was required: we were going to stay and have this baby! And in a stroke of outrageously good luck, we would also have our regular OB, Dr. Baotram Nguyen, there to catch (on her day off!).

The rest of the intake process went smoothly, if a bit grueling, as we answered some of the same questions multiple times for different forms. The nurse was very polite, compassionate, and conscientious throughout this process, taking care to read and confirm each element of our birth plan. When she saw that we didn’t want any pain medication, she only asked once if we knew what was “on the menu”, and when we confirmed that we did, she affirmed that she would not offer any, at any time, but that we could ask for anything we wanted.

The first few hours of active labor in the hospital passed more quickly than I or Lauren could have imagined, despite a very drawn out blood draw, with Lauren making steady progress and reaching 8cm dilated by around 7:40pm, at which point she refused any further cervical checks and decided it was time to start pushing. I was pretty well prepared for what to expect during this time, thanks to all our training, but it was scary when she started experiencing hot/cold flashes, alternating between chattering teeth and drawing up the blankets, and sweating profusely and throwing them off. The hospital staff tried to slow things down, to make sure she was “complete” and in an optimal position, but she was determined to do her thing in the position of her choosing (side-lying with a peanut ball), whether they approved or not. I was a little nervous at first about disregarding the advice of the staff, but since Lauren was so attuned to her feelings and advocating so well for her body (after experiencing a good amount of pelvic pain during pregnancy), I knew that if she felt the time was right, it probably was, and I wasn’t gonna try to stand in her way!

The time spent pushing was the most intense for me, as I stayed with her at the head of the bed, eyes locked with hers, as she gripped the sides of the bed (“like Rose on the Titanic”, someone later related), roaring with pain and determination. And yet, somehow, in the midst of it, she found the wherewithal to sing along to the songs she liked (“Closing Time”, “Under Pressure”, “Push It”, “Defying Gravity”, “Shiksa Goddess”), or demand skips when she didn’t, as she did with “Just a Girl”. Her water broke spontaneously at 8:15pm and it was evident that the intensity was increasing for Lauren—she later told me that, although contractions were intense, she went from thinking “I thought it would be harder than this” to shouting “Undo! Undo!” as the baby began to crown (which I later learned was also described as the “ring of fire”; unfortunately, I left that one off the playlist). But she persisted, at her own self-directed pace, and before I knew it, Lauren was all smiles and I was hearing my baby cry for the first time!

Dr. Nguyen presented the child to us, declaring “it’s a girl!” (as requested), and laid our daughter against Lauren's belly, then repaired her (minor!) tear and waited for the umbilical cord to stop pulsing. Eleanor was gray, messy, and alien-looking, but alert, and I felt such a surge of affection for her in that moment. When Dr. Nguyen asked if I wanted to cut the cord, I surprised even myself by abandoning the part of our birth plan declining that honor: in the moment, my only thought was that I needed to remove this obstacle between mother and daughter as expeditiously as possible. I duly did so, and marveled as she almost immediately latched onto Lauren’s breast and started sucking (and she hasn’t let up since!).

We passed the next hour-plus basking in the warmth and joy of new parenthood, and then the nurses returned for her measurements, footprints, and vitamin K shot. I accompanied Eleanor to the incubator station and marveled at how skillfully she was swaddled for her journey to our postpartum room (a feat I still have yet to replicate). Then we all walked the short trek down the hall to our recovery room (no wheelchair needed!). At about 12:50am, Lydia assisted with (rather, she did) our first diaper change (a traumatizing experience I thought I’d never get used to, but now I change all but very few of the diapers). Once both Lydia and Jessalyn left, we three were on our own, as a family, for the first time. Lauren presented me with the bag of new dad goodies she had prepared (Pop Rocks! Jerky! Jelly beans! Energy drink! Socks! Baby books!) and we settled in for our first night.

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That first night was a long one (baby girl just wouldn’t sleep!), and it wouldn’t be the last such night, but overall, I am incredibly grateful for this experience. My wife is amazingly strong. Everything, surprisingly, matched our birth plan. And after singing “I Want to Hold Your Hand” to my daughter every night in utero, and again on the night of her birth, I'm looking forward to doing just that, for as long as she'll allow me.