Truett Collins's Birth Story

As I sit here on the evening of my baby’s first birthday, I can’t help but think about how I wrote Sullivan’s birth story down within days of his birth. I’ve really dragged my feet on documenting Truett’s birth story, but it’s still such a treasure to me and a day that I will always cherish. Throughout the last couple of years, multiple friends have pointed out to me that I’ll never be able to talk about Truett - her conception, her pregnancy, and her birth - without talking about God, and that is such a beautiful thing. I can’t wait to tell her how many thousands of people prayed and prayed for her over the years.

To properly set up Truett’s birth story, it would be helpful to read Sullivan’s, which was a 3-day marathon event that happened almost exactly 4 years prior. As excited as I was to give birth again, I will say that the circumstances leading up to Truett’s birth were the most stressful and overwhelming of my entire life. I didn’t process how much of that stress I’d bring into the day of her labor, but that’s the thing about labor - once it starts, you’re in it, and there’s no going back! So, let’s dive in.

Truett was due on December 31, 2023. NYE seemed like a really cool birthday to me, and even though Sullivan had come at 40 and 5, I was hopeful for a December baby. But, nothing happened. There were no signs of labor until labor began, which was true for me in both of my births. On the morning of January 5, 2024, (which was 40 and 5, she was born 40 and 6) Sullivan woke me up around 4 am because he had to pee. After I got him settled back in bed, I went to the bathroom, and I felt a few contraction-like pains. I had an instinct to turn on the light, and as I wiped, there was a little bit of bloody mucus on the toilet paper. With Sul, I lost a true bloody show/mucus plug, and this wasn’t that, but it was a sign that my cervix was changing and the game was afoot. I laid back down in bed as Ross was getting up to go to work (because we were truly living a season of work chaos). No joke, one of the most stressful things we experienced in that season work-wise happened within an hour of me going into labor that morning. Thankfully, I had several people tell me to keep my head on straight and focus on my labor, because nothing else deserved my attention that day, and they were right.

As Ross was heading out, I mentioned to him that I felt some light contractions and to keep his phone on loud. I proceeded to lay in bed for two hours with some mild contractions, intentionally not getting up or moving around because I didn’t want things to progress until everyone was awake. A little bit after 6:00 am, I texted the midwife on call, my doula, my mom (who was downstairs), birth photographer, and friend who was taking Sully later in the day. The troops were alerted. The midwife on call was transitioning out around 7:00 am, so she wasn’t the one who ended up being with me for the delivery.

Around 6:30 am, I went downstairs, and my mom and I got Sullivan ready for preschool. My early labor is always hard, it is not easy to ignore, which stinks, but it is a sign that we are truly doing the thing. My contractions were probably 7-10 minutes apart and stayed that way until about 2:00 pm, only increasing in timing when I would get up and walk around. I could breathe through them without vocalizing, and I tried to eat, do some stair walking, and rest. Contractions caught my attention, but I wasn't having to focus and vocalize through them too much until around 2:00 pm, which was after Sullivan had gotten home from school. My midwife, Dana, and doula, Sarah (she was my doula in both births and is the greatest), were checking on me all day because second babies tend to surprise you and come quickly! However, my day continued to march on with little change.

Around 2:30 pm, I knew that Sullivan would be spending the night with my friend Alex, whether the baby came that evening or in the middle of the night, so I had her come pick him up, put on the TENS unit, and started timing my contractions. They continued to stay in their odd and irregular 7-10 minute pattern, but they were getting a lot tougher from 2-5 pm. Around 5:00 pm, Dana asked if I wanted to come into the birth center to have a cervical check, which was not something I’d ever done in pregnancy, or Sullivan’s birth, until the very end. At first, I wasn’t going to, but I felt like I needed something to get me out of my house and out of my head, so we packed into the car and headed that way. Sarah met us at the birth center, and we gathered in the Marie Room (where I had Sullivan and where I’d end up delivering Truett), and she listened to baby girl and told me that I was 3, maybe 4 cm dilated. Honestly, I wasn’t too discouraged because I think that’s where my body hung out the majority of Sully’s labor and probably Truett’s, until the bitter end. She sent me home, told me she’d probably see me in the middle of the night, and encouraged us to get a good dinner.

We ordered Thai food because we had ordered Indian the night before Sully was born, and we decided to switch it up. Sarah told me to eat and that she would be over after dinner to do some Spinning Babies exercises with me to encourage Tru to get into a good position and get labor moving faster. I was getting pretty defeated at this point as we headed into the night, and I realized that I was once again in for a longer than average labor. We were over the 12 hour mark by a lot at that point, no end in sight, and my contractions slowed back down after the trip to the birth center. Changing locations can often do that when you’re not in the throes of active labor and transition. Sarah could definitely see me getting in my head all throughout the night, which probably saved the day and kept me moving when I wanted to quit.

I really couldn’t eat dinner because the pain was intense at that point, even though contractions were spaced out. Sarah came over around 7, and we spent about 2 hours doing inversions off the couch, the Rebozo over my butt and thighs on the ground, all the things. I was really having to vocalize, but they weren’t getting any closer together. We were watching Meet the Parents, and around 9:00 pm, my mom went downstairs to go to bed, and Ross was falling asleep on the couch. He told Sarah that we’d call her when I was in transition because that was basically what we’d done last time, and it just didn’t seem like things were speeding up. Thankfully, she didn’t take our advice, and she took me upstairs to get into an Epsom salt bath to help with my labor shakes. I went in Sully’s bathtub, listened to my worship playlist in the dark, and Sarah sat nearby in the room where she could hear me and time my contractions. That 45 minutes in the bath was probably the most peaceful of my whole labor. I could pray, focus, breathe, and feel calm, and I could tell things were progressing. I felt like I could handle it in the tub, when I often feel out of control in active labor.

Eventually, when Sarah came to get me, I asked her if they were closer together, and she said they were about 4 minutes apart. If things remained at that pace, we should go to the birth center soon, she said, but she encouraged me to get in bed and relax. I called Ross up from the couch, and we got in bed, with Sarah chilling on the floor nearby, giving me all the flashbacks to Sully’s birth. From 10:00 pm - 1:00 am, as Ross slept soundly, I fought some of the biggest mental battles of my labor, really feeling like things were taking forever and feeling like the contractions were so intense. I was really struggling with the side lying and shaking, so Sarah finally got me up to switch positions, do toilet labor (which I HATE, but is so effective), get on my hands and knees in my bed, etc. Eventually, as she was doing counter pressure for me while I labored backwards on the toilet, she asked me if I felt pressure in my bottom. I said yes, and she said it was time to head to the birth center. My water hadn’t broken, which was so uncomfortable, and I honestly felt like we were jumping the gun a little bit, but I trusted her and said okay.

We woke Ross and Mom up, called Becky, who was taking photos, and sent Dana a message to head that way. Sarah initially said we had about 10-15 minutes because we didn’t want to beat Dana to the birth center, but as soon as I got downstairs, I was vocalizing, leaning against the wall, and having intense surges every couple of minutes. She quickly said, “Okay, we gotta go now, call me if anything happens in the car, I’m right behind you.” My mom was like uh-oh, and we definitely ran a few red lights to get to the birth center. Transition in the car is a special experience that I’ve done twice now, and there are no words to describe the intensity of being on your knees in the back seat, head pressed against the headrest (I think I was biting a pillow), just surviving those contractions.

We met Dana at the birth center at the perfect time and headed into the Marie Room. I simultaneously felt relief to make it to the final destination, and a lot of dread that I didn’t anticipate feeling because I knew the toughest work was yet to come. The tub was being filled up, and I had a bra on as I entered the tub because Becky was there to take photos, unlike Sullivan’s birth, where I never put any clothes on. I labored in the tub in transition mostly on my knees with the top of my body draped over this fabric swing thing that hung from the ceiling. I expressed to Sarah that I really wanted my water to break, so she encouraged me to do a runner’s lunge and bear down a little bit to get it to break. This was the first of 2 times I remember praying something specific in labor, as my internal monologue was raging, and just asked God to let my water break. This was about an hour after we arrived at the birth center that I’d been in the tub, and I was holding onto the hope that if I could get my water to break, she’d just slide on out, and I would catch her in the tub. Finally, my water broke with a huge gush underwater, but baby did not quickly follow.

I let a little more time pass, and I started to realize that I should be ready to push, based on how I was feeling, but I couldn’t figure it out. Just like in Sully’s birth, I couldn’t figure out how to bear down and push in the tub. I was internally upset and defeated but knew that I was going to prolong things if I stayed there. After about 30 minutes of wrestling with myself, I spoke up and said that nothing was happening, and I threw away my water birth dream in that moment. They encouraged me to get out of the tub and pee, which I knew meant that they thought my full bladder was holding back my pushing. I went to the bathroom and tried, but nothing happened, as I was shaking way too hard to pee.

I got into the bed and laid on my side with the peanut ball. I was shaking, telling Ross, “I CANNOT do this!” and again, I knew I wasn’t effectively pushing. I asked Dana to check me, and she said I was a 9.5 cm with a cervical lip. She told me she could hold it back while I pushed, and Sarah was encouraging me that, if I needed to do guided pushing again, it would be okay. But, nothing happened. We did tug of war pushing, pushing on my back, all of the things, and seriously, nothing was happening. I was starting to get so defeated because what worked for Sully wasn’t working. I finally asked Dana, “Do you see her head?” and she said that while she was low, she couldn’t see her head. At that point, I was truly thinking this cannot be, where is this baby?! I’m going to be pushing for 3 hours!! Dana encouraged me to try to pee again, and even said that we might need to pull out a breast pump to make my contractions stronger. Trust me, when you’ve been laboring for 24 hours, nothing could sound worse.

I think I had pooped on the bed when I was trying to push, so I tried to go to the bathroom to poop. Sarah followed me into the bathroom and helped me onto the toilet, and there is a picture of me in total defeat just laboring on the toilet, thinking the end was nowhere in sight. In reality, I was minutes away from the end, but none of us knew it. She encouraged me to stand up and get in the shower to try to pee, since I was still struggling. Sarah even asked me if I’d ever had a catheter, as that can be a way to help empty your bladder if nothing else works. I quickly said, “No!” in a very whiny voice because I was just over it all.

I whipped off my sopping wet bra, let her turn the water on my back, and sat down on a stool, as she closed the curtain on me in the dark shower. And in that moment, I experienced the most intense contraction of my entire life that shot me to my feet, made me slam my hands against the wall, and scream HELP HELP in an octave that my voice had never before reached in birth. Sarah whipped back the curtain, asked me what I need, and I said something very strange like, “I have nothing to hold on to!” I also said something about trying to poop and not being able to, which is hilarious, since I was literally giving birth, but unaware of what was happening. Sarah told me to turn around and grab onto the handicap bar in the shower.

This was the second time I remember praying in labor, and I truly threw up a “God, you’ve gotta help me!” type prayer, which is fitting, since my only hope for this birth was that pushing would be faster. If only I understood how quickly He would answer me! I had another of the world’s most intense contractions, my heels were lifting up off the ground in pain and shaking, and I felt a tearing sensation, reached down, and felt the crown of Truett’s head already there. I YELLED to everyone that she was coming, and Dana, my nurse Lindsay, Sarah, my mom, Ross, and Becky swarmed to the bathroom. Dana turned off the water and crouched behind me as Sarah encouraged me to catch Truett (because I wanted to), and I just said, “No, no, no, get her out!!!” and I birthed her whole head and body in one more contraction. Dana quickly passed her through my legs, and I stared at my perfect baby, in awe that I had just birthed her and that she was real, and simultaneously horrified at how incredibly hard and fast the end had been. But, it was done, and it was beautiful and perfect and complete.

There is something so symbolic to me about birthing Truett alone, in the dark corner of a shower, while talking to God because that is what my entire year had felt like leading up to that point. He carried me through until the very end, and she was the reward after a marathon of a story to get to her. I will always love her birth and the wildness of it all because it played out exactly as it was meant to. Birth is incredible, raw, beautiful, and can be so very hard, but I’d do it a million times over to get my babies.