The beautiful entrance of Maven Eloise

The Sun rose and set on my due date, March 9th. She was late, which meant she was indeed a Bryant. Sunday the 10th, I woke and went to church for a day of ministry. Twelve hours later I went to bed. At 2am and woke up to contractions. I slept on and off as contractions came and went. Eric got up and took a long dark shower...trying to wash away the anxiety. I was grateful to drive to Allen Monday morning for our 40 week check up. I was 3 centimeters dilated and fully effaced. The midwife said "it could be today...or next week." The unknowing aspect of natural delivery will surely keep you on your toes. I went to work and came home for dinner. Contractions picked back up and Eric started pacing with anxiety. Eric called some friends to came over to keep us distracted (with games, ice cream and Jack Daniels). I would take breaks from the game to get through a contraction. They were still 6 or so minutes apart. Time passed and friends left. By 3am (Tuesday morning) they were growing closer together and in strength. They were never very consistent though. We called the midwife certain that I was in labor and at least at 4 centimeters. We got to the center and were disappointed to find that I was still at a 3. It felt like hard work to only be at 3 centimeters! Leslie, the midwife on call, gave us two options. We could stay and walk around for an hour to see if I would progress or I could take some Tylenol PM or Demerol to help me get some rest before labor progressed more. We chose the Demerol. One shot in the butt and I barely made it to the car before falling asleep. Eric got me home and I slept for six hours until 10am. Once I awoke my contractions has slowed down to 10 minutes apart. So I got up and piddled around the house.

At 5pm our massage therapist friend came over to practice some acupressure. We were hoping this would speed things along. Thirty minutes later she suggested I take a walk. Eric and I didn't make it down the street before the contractions were too intense to walk. We would stop at every other driveway to sway through the contractions. I just remember thinking, God made my body for this...my body is doing exactly what it's supposed to be doing....over and over again. At around 6:15 I decided a bath would help. Eric drew me a hot bath and I slipped in. It felt amazing. I was still having contractions around every four minutes in the bath which confirmed that I was in labor. This was it...we would meet our little girl probably sometime in the night. I sat in the bath and prayed and worked through the contractions on my own by moaning in a low tone. It was peaceful and just what I had pictured. After an hour in the tub I called for Eric to come help me out. I got dry and dressed. Eric ate dinner while I checked to make sure everything was packed. At 8:30 on Tuesday night we called Carol, the midwife on call, to tell her it was time. Moments before our call, Carol had delivered a home birth out at White Rock Lake (20 minutes from us, but an hour from Allen). She asked us to wait another hour and call her back (especially since my water hadn't broken yet). I tried to take this news in stride, but a wave of contraction came over me and I panicked a little. Five or so contractions later I became fearful of having these contractions in the car while we drove from Dallas to Allen. I was ready to be at the birthing center and eager to know how far I had progressed. I imagine that Carol thought we were overacting a little since we were first timers...and I had that same fear. The last thing I wanted was to show up and only be at 4 centimeters. Eric called Carol again and once he mentioned that I was growing fearful she said that she didn't want me to be afraid and that she would arrange for a birthing assistant to meet us at the center. We left our home a bit after 9pm and arrive at the birthing center at 9:30...there we waited for the assistant to let us in.

 The minute I laid eyes on Debbie I felt relief...I was so grateful that Eric and I were not going to have this baby on the side of the road. I told her that I had full confidence that she could deliver this baby if it came to it (all of this was based on my hope that I was indeed further along than four centimeters). At 10pm we were up in the beautiful birthing suite and I was being checked. Another moment of relief came when Debbie said that I was almost to an 8. My water still hadn't broken. I felt so accomplished and strong and glad that we were over halfway there. Eric called all of our parents to let them know to come right away. Debbie called Carol the midwife to let her know that I was further than she thought and to come as quickly as possible. I moved to a birthing ball and swayed in figure eights while I moaned through the contractions.

Eric's mom arrived first and I invited her in. I decided then that I wanted my moms in the room with me...remembering all that that 30 years had brought...experiencing this beautiful birth and interceding on my behalf. My mom arrived shortly after. Debbie had filled the birthing tub with warm water promising that it would help the pressure and pain. I slipped into the tub and relief washed over me as I was soaking in the warmth. The contractions were much more bearable in the water. In between contractions I would talk with Eric, Sharon, Debbie and my mom. When all of the sudden the urge to go to the bathroom came over me...I had to go and soon. I asked them to help me out because I did NOT want to go in the birthing tub....eww...ick. They helped me out and I sat on the toilet for three contractions and thought I was going to turn inside out. I looked at Eric and told him I was done and that I wanted to go home (I call this the denial stage of labor). After he convinced me it's better to stay and that I could do this, the midwife arrived and wanted to check me. I went to the bed to lie down. For all you mama's out there who labored on their backs, you are awesome. The contractions on my back were unbearable, I would dig in to the mattress and try to moan through but I would lose my concentration easily to the pain. Carol said I was almost at a 10 but my water bag was still intact. To which the birthing assistant thought was miraculous: "the stars have aligned" she said, "this baby is going to be special". They said I could get back in the tub and labor untill I was ready to push (which was what the bathroom urge was), or they could help me along by breaking my water so that I'd be ready right away. We opted for the water breaking. Immediately after they snagged the bag the fluid gushed out and they helped me back into the tub.

Kneeling, I faced outward and hung over the tub with my upper body. Eric faced me outside the tub and held my hands. In Christ Alone began playing off our play list. I needed to push and my body didn't give me time to think about it. The wave of pressure came and it just purged with everything I had. The first push...Carol affirmed that it was indeed a push and that she could feel our little girl's head. At this point a midwifery student named Terry began to help me. She was an angel, I'm positive. She told me that I needed to slow down a bit to avoid tearing. I felt out of control...how on earth could I slow this force bearing down on me? Another push. In between the pushes my mom and Sharon read the scripture cards that we brought. I was able to rest and connect with Eric. Another growling push. Scripture. Eye contact. Terry encouraged me. She told me that our girl had a head full of hair and asked me to touch her head to see how close it was. I didn't really want to do that. Another growling push. Scripture. Eye contact. Terry told me to feel the baby's head. She said "ok Cassie, the next push her head will come out and you are going to lean backward and pull the rest of her body out with the push." So I pushed....then leaned back with the help of Terry and the burning ring of fire ceased as I reached down to pull out our sweet little girl. All this happened while the guitar solo from Bold as Love rang in our ears.  She was perfect in every way. Our little girl came crashing into the world boldly, in a room filled her mother's love. And her fathers love. And her Mita's love. And her Grammy's love. Whatever happened after that moment doesn't matter and isn't memorable. Next thing I remember is holding her in my arms on the bed while being stitched up. We didn't have a name. We had three....Judith, Prudence or Maven. She didn't look like a Judith...but we toddled between Prudence and Maven for two days. Once I was stitched. The rest of family came in to meet our bundle of joy. My dad (Pa), Kerrie (G), Alan (Rocky), Sharon (Mita), Frank (Ranrad), my mom (Grammy) and my grandmother (Gigi) all came into the room and we worshiped. We sang the song that I'd sing to her in my womb every night (and still sing to her every night). Praise God from whom all blessings flow....Maven Eloise Bryant was born at 12:31am on March 13 of 2013. A blessing indeed.