Emmett is Earthside!
Updated: Jun 22
Emmett Herbert Hartman made it earthside at 9:32PM on his due date, Sunday, June 7, 2026, weighing 9lbs 9oz. This is the story of his birth.
If you've read Everett's birth story, you know it wasn't the story we envisioned or hoped for. Over the course of this pregnancy, we weighed the pros and cons of trying for a vaginal birth after Everett's c-section, and I knew in my heart what I wanted.
In trying for a vaginal birth, I told the midwives at Midwifery & Women's Healthcare that I needed a team that would believe in me, but not bullshit me. I needed to trust that they would advise me if the birth wasn't going to plan, if the risks out-weighed the rewards. As you'll read in this story, Rachele earned that trust in abundance and her no-bullshit belief in me made all the difference.
A Slow Leak
The weekend of my due date, I noticed an intermittent watery discharge which prompted a call to my midwife, Rachele. She was already at the hospital for another birth, so she offered to meet me in Triage to test the discharge and confirm it was amniotic fluid.
The appointment was fast, and the second test returned a positive result. My water had broken in the most anticlimactic way possible - a slow leak.
The positive amniotic fluid result started a countdown to labor; either my body would naturally go into labor within about a day, or they'd need to admit me by 7AM the next day to Labor & Delivery to monitor and progress labor.
I was glad to return home with news we'd be back at the hospital within the next 24 hours. We got Everett and our dog Arthur ready to spend the next few days with Zak's parents, dropped them off, then got ice cream while waiting for early labor contractions to progress.
It was a frustrating night of sleep, waking up every few hours to count contractions coming in 20 minutes apart. At 6AM, it was clear we'd be returning to the hospital still in early labor, and likely need some help progressing to active labor.
Inducing Labor
Our arrival at the hospital came with a long to-do list of hospital things I didn't want to do: hook up to monitors, stick an IV, talk with the hospitalist OB about what an emergency c-section would look like if my attempt for a vaginal birth took a turn for the worse.
Funny enough, we were admitted to the same room we toured a month or two ago. To make it a little darker, I tried closing the blinds, but the entire curtain came crashing down. Zak kindly took the fall when we told the hospital staff what happened.
Two hours later, we began to discuss with Rachele what it would look like to progress labor. We opted to start by using the hospital grade breast pump on and off for 10 minutes at a time and sure enough, my contractions got stronger, but after a quick nap to rest up for the big event, my contractions all but stopped entirely.
Cue a low dose of pitocin around 1:30PM. As much as I wanted to avoid interventions, I learned that pitocin is a synthetic version of oxytocin, the natural chemical responsible for inducing labor and lactation and all kinds of good things baby-related.
"I think we should try pitocin." - me
"I think that's a good idea." - Rachele
We slowly increased the dose of pitocin as my body responded to it. Every hour, the increment increased by 2. Around 5:30PM, at 8 units, active labor snuck up on me. As I sat up from laying back and rolled onto my side, the contractions got very intense, so much so I couldn't talk through them. Now it felt real: the baby was coming today.
Once my body got the message that it was time to deliver the baby, Rachele and my nurses took me off the pitocin drip and from there on out, it was all my body.
Labor
My labor plan was three fold:
Keep it dark.
Keep the music moody and my moans deep.
Keep the water running, as long as we can.
I labored standing up in the shower for about an hour, while Zak moved the handheld showerhead across my back. We turned the lights off in the bathroom and had a projector cast stars across the ceiling. In rhythm with my hypnotic playlist (major credit to my yoga teacher for multiple hours of vibes,) I breathed (shuttered) through every contraction with one word in mind: "down."
We took a short break from the shower to move through positions to position Baby for birth, then back to the shower through the transition stage of labor.
Transition was by far the hardest, most intense part of this labor. Against my will, my body was attempting to push baby out with every breath. Each time, I felt my low, gutteral sounds shoot up to squeals as my body begged to push, and then consciously dropped my moan even lower to get through the peak of the contraction.
"I don't think I can do this..." - me
"That's what people say during transition. It means you're closer than ever to meeting your baby!" - Rachele
Then, I needed to poop, which meant I was ready to push.
Delivery
The picture above was taken at 7:07PM. At this point, the nurses changed shifts and a new nurse, Paige, came to introduce herself while I was on the toilet (because I thought I should poop before pushing. Guess what? I didn't need to poop - that was my baby I was feeling.) I owe Paige a huge thanks for seamlessly entering our birth space and offering so much support and deference to our approach. From here on out, Zak, Rachele, and Paige worked together to offer me every word of encouragement and resource I needed. We came to find out Rachele and Paige love working together - their chemistry and compatibility was clear as day. .
OK, back to the delivery. The hospital isn't too keen on giving birth in the shower, so we moved back into the delivery room to push. Honestly, it was the right move for me anyway - my legs felt like noodles and I was eager to lay down.
Laying on my back, my pushing began ridiculously ineffectively. Rachele and Paige both coached me through ways to improve: hold my breath during each push, think about cradling my baby with my body, relax my buttcheeks, relax my legs, relax my brow.
Turns out, the relaxing part was super important. After about an hour of pushing (more like practicing pushing,) my hip flexors began to cramp. It was brutal. Paige yoinked hot packs out of nowhere and she and Zak pressed them into my hips and thighs between pushes. Zak and Paige also took turns replacing the cold washcloths on my forehead and chest.
"What happens if I pass out?" - me
"Do you feel like you're going to pass out?" - Paige
This quick exchange prompted the introduction of an oxygen mask I kept by my side and held over my nose and mouth as I relaxed my body between pushes. This gave me a second wind (literally) and I kept pushing.
When I imagined the birth of this baby, I had a feeling that, if he wasn't born within the first few pushes, I'd reach a point where the endurance would feel all too familiar. I pushed Everett for more than four hours before ultimately having an emergency c-section.
Over the next hour, I spoke aloud every worry and fear and question that came to my mind:
I'm worried he's stuck.
"He's not, he's right there." - Rachele
"Do you want a mirror?" - Paige
"No." - me (I didn't want to be disappointed)
Is he in the right position?
"Yes, and he's right there." - Rachele
"Are you sure you don't want to look through the mirror?" - Paige
"No, thank you." - me
I'm worried we're not making any progress.
"You are making progress. He's rocking back and forth beneath your pubic bone. You'll be meeting your baby really soon." - Rachele
"You can ask for the mirror at any time." - Paige
I just want this to be over.
"I think it will be, sooner than you think." - Rachele
What if I can't do this?
"You are doing this." - everyone about a dozen times
Zak, can you see him?
"Yes! I can see his head and his hair. He's right there" - Zak
Out of everyone there, Zak's affirmation that Baby was coming is what I needed to push through.
My final pushes came in quick succession. I pushed Baby and sure enough, just like Rachele said, as soon as he got past my public bone, he moved quickly down, down, and down. I felt the "ring of fire" and took two breaths as he crowned. I pushed out his head and with one more push, the rest of him flew out with a gush.
Emmett Herbert Hartman was on my chest in milliseconds, crying, peeing and pooping all over me. It was perfect.
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