Birth: A Midwife’s Story

As much as I love recalling the details of each birth space... and telling the stories of the parents I’ve had the honor of holding space for and with... some stories are better told by those that experienced them first hand... This is Hannah’s story.

My twins, Olivia Beatriz Figueroa McGrew and Sebastian Luis Figueroa McGrew, were born 3/27/23 at 32 weeks and 6 days. 4lbs 3oz and 5lbs 1oz, respectively. Two vaginal births- seven minutes apart, by the head and by the feet.

I was admitted to the hospital on a Sunday, 9 days before they were born. The Friday before that, on my last call shift, I witnessed 4 births - two fast vaginal births and and two belly births. After almost 3 years experiencing this role, I have watched people who have preeclampsia leave pregnancy seemingly unscathed, while others have had strokes, seizures, liver failure, platelet failure, and blood clots. Some left pregnancy without babies. Some never left the hospital, or never made it there. I contemplated every one of these patients as I felt the loss of control over my own outcomes.

On my first day postpartum, I had to choose between seeing Benja for the first time in many days - our wild and beautiful almost 21-month-old who suddenly seemed so grown- and holding my daughter Olive in the NICU for the first time since her birth. The following day, I had to make the choice to hold my second son Sebi for the first time since his birth before I could see my daughter. I think I’ll wonder every day of my life if I’m making the right choices to honor myself, and my children, and my marriage.

The transformative season of becoming a mother is so raw, so vulnerable. What I know to be true to my very core, is that the people around you matter. Birth is a ceremony, a celebration of the sacred and liminal, the fine line between life and death and whatever comes before it all. As those of us in birth work know, it must be held with a gentle firmness by those who witness it - your people are your tether and your cradle. My friends who are also my colleagues, who are also my family, have watched me weep, collected my urine and breast milk, wiped blood from my legs, have seen inside my body and have guarded me. As a midwife, I have GREAT people. My OB colleagues, who ultimately managed my care, made it possible for me to have a peaceful and SAFE vaginal birth in the OR. The same colleagues who nodded in solemn understanding when they saw that I had added “desires cremation” to the end of my birth plan, acknowledging and easing the roaring fear that I felt at the end of my pregnancy. My Midwife friends who cared for my first pregnancy, stayed long after their call shifts, and one by one gathered at the hospital on the day my babies were born, at my bedside and peeking through the blinds of the OR with so much love. The L&D and NICU nurses, techs, respiratory therapists, and CRNAs who I trust with my patients births, and lives, daily, now entrusted with my own.

I did not take adding a birth photographer to this mix lightly. I knew of Jess through the birth world and had seen her work from my own Midwife’s last birth. It made me weep. I knew, as a certified Birth Nerd, that I wanted to have this exceptional birth (hopefully a vertex/breech vaginal twin birth - and my last birth) captured for memory. I never considered anyone besides Jess after seeing her work. I spoke to her on the phone a few times, and corresponded over text and email about my birth plan (“flexible, try for vaginal, don’t die”) and my vision for capturing these images (“everything, especially full-frontal delivery”). Then in the hospital we checked in daily about the PLAN for my preterm delivery, hopefully at 34 weeks, but probably before. I finally met Jess in person when I was induced at 32.6 weeks. I didn’t notice her as she floated into the room with her equipment, or maybe I did and just nodded as I labored unmedicated, on a magnesium drip, with the worst headache of my life and an intractable urge to vomit. The next thing I knew, she was at the bedside, gently brushing my hair out of my eyes and asking the nurse “what can I do?” It was like she had been in the room all along. Frankly, I don’t know when she even took all of these stunning pictures and videos as she dabbed my face with a cool rag, held my legs, and said soothing things that I only remember the sound of now. Her presence in the OR - which can sometimes be a point of contention with limited space- was respectful and helpful, and later regarded highly by the medical team and staff as being wonderful and impressive. Some of the nurses saved her contact info then and there.

I want whoever is reading this to know that I have now looked at the images a thousand times. I have watched my birth video hundreds of times, and each time I cry. Jess captured EVERYTHING so authentically- without frill or over-filtering of the grit, that for me, is the most haltingly beautiful part of birth. She captured tender moments that I don’t even remember happening in the midst of transition when my instincts took over. Moments that make me look back and think “wow, I am so strong”, “wow, I am so loved”, “wow, I can’t believe I survived this”. Pictures of my mother’s hands wrapped around mine, of my husband smiling at me with the same gusto as when we first fell in love, my children’s first breaths on this earth, my body doing impossible work. Jess has a gift that is more than “just” being a talented photographer, or even a great doula - she creates an energy of calm and understanding that envelops the entire environment that she is occupying, and makes it known that she is fully present for YOU in every way you need her. Jess has since captured my family with the twins as newborns, and now very recently, at 5 months old/postpartum, where that undercurrent of holding space for us as her subjects continues and has adapted as this wild and wondrous season evolves.