BORN IN AMERICA: HOW MY THIRD GIRL WAS BORN
We tossed and turned in bed again at 4 am that Saturday morning when our bladder told us that we needed to take a trip to the loo. As we stood up, we felt a trickle of water run down our thighs. That was it! We knew the amniotic sack had finally opened up. It was not a gush like with our first delivery but we had read one book too many on labour. So we knew sometimes the water breaking won’t be dramatic every time. We were excited to be finally close to having our baby. Being a few days overdue was not like a huge bite into a coconut cupcake (P.S. We have a love affair with coconut). It was rather like taking a peek into the promised land but being unable to get into it.
The trickling of the water didn’t come with any strong contractions so we wore a sanitary pad and went back to bed to get fidgety and call it sleep. The definition of sleep had changed in these last days of pregnancy. It consisted of turning, quarreling with the bed, quarreling with our bladder for asking us to pee all the time, quarreling with our chest for the frequent heart burns then finally giving up on our ‘enemies’ and standing up to continue with the day.We became a semi mad-woman during our first delivery and an uncompromising prayer warrior during our second delivery so for this third delivery, we did everything we could to have a stress-free experience.First, we bought Supernatural Childbirth, a book by Jackie Mize that narrates how a woman prayed her way into painless deliveries. We wanted that to be our story so we prayed the prayers attached to the book diligently.We signed up for two pregnancy apps, Baby Centre and We're Expecting or something (can’t remember the exact name). They are like Facebook groups for pregnant women. We were constantly connecting with women who had due dates that were close to ours and learning from them. The next crazy things we did were suggestions from our pregnant ‘delusional friends’.We drank Raspberry Leaf Tea. We were told this would make labour quick and easy so we drank and drank. Though the taste was nothing to write home about, we really enjoyed it. Baby didn’t come.We danced like a mad woman. We were told dancing will bring the baby on. So when Mr. N and the girls were in bed, we hobbled from one end of the living room to another, our tummy following along. We called it dancing. Ha! Baby didn’t come.We won’t even tell you the other things we did. But we did EVERYTHING we had heard of or could think of to bring the babay. But… baby didn’t come.So this morning, when we felt that trickling, it was like hope stirring at us in the face. At dawn, we made a quick lunch for the house: some flavourful Rice and Fish Stew while breathing through contractions. At about 11 AM, we called our very kind-hearted friend, Jeena to come take our kids from us so we could go in to the hospital.When she took the girls, we stood in our living room and danced. But this time, we didn’t dance to bring the labour on, we danced because someone we trusted was going to babysit them. We literally moved rhythmically because finding the right person to babysit had been difficult. God proved how good He is by bringing this woman who loves Him into our life at the right time.Mr. N came home from work and off we went to the hospital. As the car drove off, our contractions got stronger with the shaking of the car. We arrived the several storey huge hospital building in Saint Paul, Minnesota at about 2 pm and made our way to the floor where the birth centre was located.We were checked into a labour/delivery room. Boy was it cozy! We had the room all to myself which means there were no fellow drama queens. Installed on the wall was a flat screen TV with cable channels. The walls looked freshly-painted and the room was devoid of the epic hospital smell that would make you want to throw up. We felt like we were in a hotel. The bed was small and adjustable to make us feel comfortable. By the top of the bed was a computer which the nurses used to enter our hospital data. Then there was a toilet for us in the same room and a large window that offered us a nice view of the city.
We were given a johnny gown (hospital gown) and asked to swap the clothes we had on for it which we did. Next, was the routine check by the nurse. She asked us a few questions, one of which was if we wanted to have an epidural to make labour easier. We declined because we hated the thought of being paralysed from our waist down for the sake of an easier delivery. She sent her hand into our hoo ha to check how dilated we were. She announced that our cervix was two centimetres dilated. Hearing this was disappointing because we expected to be much closer to ten centimetres which is the final point before baby comes. 
After the check, we asked if we could walk in the hospital corridors. The friendly nurse, a middle-aged woman agreed. So with our big belly, weird hospital gown and Mr. N (who probably had no idea what he was doing) we started going upandan (up and down)the corridors. This attracted a fair share of onlookers who must have thought we were high on something. We didn’t really care because we wanted to exercise properly and get the baby out. We didn’t want to stall labour by lying down.An hour later, we were four centimetres dilated. An hour later, we moved to six centimetres. The nurse who had been checking us all along had a close of shift. A calm-looking girly nurse who was about 5 months pregnant herself took over. At this point, our contractions were no longer something we could walk through. We were lying in bed, sweating profusely and uttering gibberish.The nurse who had become like some sort of a sister to us held our hand and gently rubbed it through the intense contractions. At some point we were under the illusion that she was our long lost sister who had found us. How she turned out white and us black was what was confusing.We listened to gospel music to take our mind off the pain that came with the contractions. Mr. N sat by the bed on a recliner chair, rubbing us and sometimes battling sleep due to exhaustion from work.Time went by, contractions increased and we got to 9 centimetres of dilation. Our nurse turned sister handed over to another nurse who looked fierce and choleric. Yet she exhibited the same care her predecessors had shown us.It was in her hands that we had our baby at 2 am that night. We screamed, “the baby is coming!” She insisted on checking how much cervix we had left. We said, “there’s nothing there!” we hated the several cervical checks they kept doing. She checked anyway and affirmed that we were right. The doctor came in a rush and with one push, we birthed a healthy 7 pound 13 ounces baby girl, black, beautiful with a head full of hair. Immediately, she was placed on our chest for us to bond. 
Mr. N cut the umbilical cord. We prayed and thanked God for His beautiful gift to us. Mr. N having this labour room experience for the very first time was totally priceless and just the most beautiful thing.
We were moved into a postpartum room which was a lot similar to the delivery room. There we were given a menu with the freedom to order as much food as we wanted in a day. We kept ordering all kinds of food after two hours intervals. Trust us on that. After all, it was njoh. Two days later, after being checked constantly by doctors and nurses, we were discharged. We were placed on a wheel chair and wheeled out of the hospital.We have shared with you all about our pregnancies and deliveries because these stories are worth recounting. We would say that no two pregnancies or child births are the same. No matter how much you get pregnant, there would always be something different to face. All the same, it is a beautiful experience. Thank you for reading.
Have you read all our pregnancy diaries? Check them out here:- Our First Pregnancy: First Trimester
- Our First Pregnancy: Second Trimester
- Our First Pregnancy: Third Trimester
- Tasting Childbirth for the First Time
- Our First Hours As A Mother
- Our Miscarriage Story: The Baby we Never Had
- A Difficult Second Childbirth
- Our Overdue Pregnancy Story
