Northland Midwifery :: Ada Mae

He met me at the door, relief etched into his tired features.  “She’s this way.” I followed him through their home—I couldn’t help but notice the furnishings were furnishings I would have chosen for my own space: the warm, brown tones and clean lines of midcentury furniture + carefully edited walls.  I already knew I liked Kerry—her “decoration-ing” to borrow a phrase from my girl, confirmed it.

 

I found her on the couch, resting or trying to at least, but in obvious discomfort. She’d texted me early that morning to say that contractions had started, but were nothing serious. And then, radio silence. Since I needed more information, I sent her a text asking where things were, trying to not be overly pushy. Nothing much is happening was the reply.

 

Around ten, I called and we laughed and chatted a bit.  Essentially, not much had changed. Several hours went by and again, radio silence.  I texted again, tentatively inquiring about her progress.

 

The response: You can come now. This was such a departure from previous responses—I knew it was showtime. I threw my car into gear, found their home, lugged my equipment into the living room, and admired the careful decorating and mid-century furnishings while evaluating the light, etc. I also noticed a toaster on the gleaming black counter, where a cold waffle rested abandoned and uneaten. 

 

Wait a second. Where was the midwife?

 

Wait a double second: This looks likes it’s getting serious, fast.

 

One of the beauties of a mid-wife lead home birth {one of many, in my opinion—in fact, I chose this option myself for my second child}—is that a woman can do a lot of the work of labor in her own home, on her own terms, in her own way, and in her own time. Kerry and Matt had been in contact with their birth team; the team had monitored both the baby and Kerry throughout the day—all good—and clearly, she’d done most of the work on her own.

 

To everyone’s naked relief—mine and Matt’s especially—Dionne from Northland Midwifery and her assistant arrived shortly after I did. Less than 15 minutes later, Kerry delivered a perfect, beautiful baby girl: Ada Mae. The aforementioned waffle sat abandoned in the toaster on the counter, and I daresay, forgotten.

 

Thank you, Kerry and Matt both, for trusting me to document the day Ada was born, for inviting me into your perfectly decorated home, for believing in what I do, and for sharing your precious family with me.