John + Michelle + Baby= Three: Miles Davis & Vanessa Alison: The story of our baby's birth

On Tuesday, 3/15, I went to work as usual. At this point, my feet and legs were so bloated that I resorted to wearing huge, flowy maternity skirts. I remember working feverishly during my preps, as I tried to get everything set up for my maternity leave replacement. I threw away tons of file folders, moved digital files to a flash drive for the sub, and moved all around my classroom, striving to get things done before my last day, 3/18. Around 4, a co-worker walked by my room and said, "Go home already."

I was full of energy. I went to Buybuybaby and picked up some small items. I then went to Carter's and bought a few extra things for the baby; I even texted a photo of leopard leggings for a 6 month old to my friend, Lisa. Continuing with the surge of energy, I even did some light plumbing repair in our house and used an auger.

John usually works until 9 on most evenings, but on this particular Tuesday, he came home around 7:30.

Around 8, I decided to elevate my feet. This was after I already soaked them in epsom salts. I extended them to the top of the headboard in our bedroom, trying to de-swell them. It's a little bit "TMI," but I suddenly felt like I urinated myself. I just assumed that it was a slight accident; they say that can happen toward the end of your pregnancy. I jokingly texted my Raelen a favorite line from the Adam Sandler movie, Billy Madison: "If peeing your pants is cool, then call me Miles Davis."

"the feet"

Previously, I had told my ob/gyn that I was worried I wouldn't know if I was having contractions. She assured me, "Oh, you'll know." About 10 minutes from the Miles Davis incident, I felt incredibly sharp pains in my abdominal region. It felt like cramps that I never had before. Foolish me did not think this could be my water breaking. From all of my doctor's appointments, it seemed like the baby was going to be on time; no signs pointed to an early arrival. Despite feeling such pain, I thought that maybe I was having indigestion. In retrospect, those words sound incredibly stupid.

The next thing I know, I quickly changed into a nightgown and flip flops. My fashion inspiration might have been Natalie Portman's character in the film Where the Heart Is.

John called my doctor's answering service and left a message. Next, he called 911. The police arrived first and then an ambulance came. A lot of people have asked me why John didn't just drive us to the hospital: "Was an ambulance really necessary?" In short, it was necessary.

By the time I got into the ambulance, the pains were so sharp; we timed the contractions to be one minute apart. The poor EMT had to deal with me using the F word over and over. I tried to be polite; the word was interspersed with an occasional "Okay."

Once we got to the hospital, I was rushed upstairs. Honestly, after being transported to the hospital, my memory is a bit spotty. I got no meds--- in retrospect, I love that I didn't get meds because I can claim "warrior" status, but I totally would have taken them if there was enough time. I wanted so badly for her to be with us and kept pushing. The doctor told me only to push on the contraction and I got overwhelmed, uttering, "I'm worried I won't know when that is." At certain points, the doctor pressed on my abdominal region and let me know when I was having contractions. As someone who was in remedial gym in middle school, it's not surprising that I needed help with knowing whether or not I was having contractions. In fact, it's actually pretty hilarious.

Vanessa was born at 10:58PM. I can't even use the transition word "finally" because I was in labor for less than three hours. As I held her, with John right by my side, we both intensely cried. I had previously imagined how it would be like to give birth and hold Vanessa in my hands, but the rush of emotions in that moment could not even be described with words. My heart was racing and tears were streaming down both of our faces.

A funny part of this whole scenario is that labor came on so quickly that I did not have a hospital bag packed. I joke with friends and family that Vanessa and I were nudists for day #1 in the hospital. I just had on the gigantic hospital gown and Vanessa wore the oversized onesies that the hospital had on hand.

I know that people often talk about giving birth with the word "miracle." As cliched or overused as it may seem, I don't think I could come up with a more appropriate word for this experience.