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My Water Broke at Chili’s

December 16th, 2025. I was 1 day past my due date, and there were no signs of labor starting anytime soon. That evening, the girls had horse riding lessons around 6 pm, so we headed out to the farm, did their lessons, and started to head home. However, we didn’t have much to eat at the house, so we decided that Chili’s sounded good for dinner, and I started driving us all there. About halfway there, I felt this dull ache in my lower back. While aches and pains are normal in pregnancy, this one felt a little different than normal. I chalked it up to another late pregnancy symptom and ignored it.

Ten minutes later, we pulled into the Chili’s parking lot and started getting out of the car. Braxton and Allie got out first and headed toward the restaurant entrance. Emma and I were a little slower. As I was getting out of my seat and out of the car door, I felt a small gush “down there” and instantly froze. At first, I thought my pelvic floor muscles had just gotten really weak, so I took another step. Another gush. At that point, I knew my water had broken. To confirm, I took 1–2 more steps and, sure enough, a few more gushes. This was it! The moment I had been waiting for and wondered if I would experience.

“Babe, I’m so sorry, but I don’t think we’re eating at Chili’s tonight. I’m pretty sure my water just broke”, I casually yelled/laughed across the parking lot. He and Allie rushed back over to the car and we all just stood there for a few seconds with nervous excitement. At this point, I had started leaking more fluid and was trying to figure out how to make it stop. Spoiler alert, you can’t. Haha. Thankfully, it had been cooler out so everyone had sweatshirts with them. I gathered all the sweatshirts, piled them underneath me in the passenger seat and we started heading home.

On the way, I immediately called my mom. It was officially time! I then called my OB, Doula/Photographer, and our friend who was going to watch the girls. The girls were beyond excited since this was their first sleepover at a friend’s house. When we got home, we hurried around the house, gathering all the last-minute things we all needed. I felt fine, other than feeling like someone turned on a faucet in my pants. I tried everything to contain the fluid, but nothing worked. It was hilarious and frustrating all at the same time. I just grabbed towels and did my best. Once we had everything together, we dropped the girls off and headed to the hospital.

We stopped by McDonald’s along the way because it was quick, and I knew I probably wouldn’t eat for the foreseeable future. The whole way there, Braxton kept making me laugh about the most random things, and every time I laughed, I would gush out more fluid. Let me tell you, the feeling of your water breaking is a surreal thing. It’s like peeing, but you can’t control it at all. So he was making me laugh, I was trying not to laugh, but when I did laugh, I was laughing more because I was gushing, which then made us both laugh. It was hilarious and terrible at the same time. He called me a “Gusher,” like the fruit snack and I don’t know why but at the time it was the funniest thing ever and we both laughed so hard.

We ate our McDonald’s in the ER parking lot before heading inside. It felt a little bittersweet, knowing that in the next 24 hours, we would no longer be a family of 4, but instead a family of 5. It was also a little nerve-wracking knowing we were about to walk into an experience that we had no idea how it would go. Would labor and delivery go smoothly? Would my wishes be honored? Would there be complications? Would we leave with a baby? I tried not to think about it all, to be honest. I was quite calm and felt excited and at peace.

Painful, All-Natural Labor

After we finished eating, we headed into the ER, got checked in, and went up to labor and delivery. It was about 9:00 pm. When we got up to L&D, they ran a few tests to make sure my water had indeed broken. It definitely did, but they always test to make sure. As we were waiting for the test results, our doula/photographer (Savannah) arrived. I was so happy she was there and thrilled to have a doula and photographer this time around. I didn’t have either with either of my girls. Once the test results came back, we were then transferred to the actual delivery room. As we all got settled in for a long night, it all began to feel more real. I was finally going to meet this rainbow baby I had prayed so much for.

For this birth experience, I had my mind set on doing it all natural with no interventions, epidural, or other pain medications, unless absolutely necessary. I wanted to prove to myself I could have an all-natural birth and let my body experience what it was made to do. When I first found out I was pregnant, I even contemplated doing a home birth and birthing in the water. However, my anxiety got the best of me and I opted for having a hospital birth in case something were to go wrong. Looking back now, I’m glad I went to the hospital.

For both of my girls births, I was induced. Not really for any reason other than they were “big babies” and years later, I know now that that is often a scare tactic that often leads to a cascade of interventions. While I was blessed to have uncomplicated births with both of them, I still wanted this experience to be different. Both my girls were bigger as well. Emma was 9lbs 7oz, and Allie was 8lbs 4oz. For this boy, we guessed he would be around 9lbs, MAYBE 10lbs.

Wanting an all-natural birth, I also kept an open mind and knew things could potentially go south rather quickly in the medical world. So I agreed for them to put in an IV hep lock. Basically, it’s an IV that isn’t hooked up to anything, but if something were to happen, they could administer medicine quickly and not have to worry about starting an IV in the moment. Unfortunately, the nurse putting in the IV tried to put it in my forearm first, and my anxiety couldn’t handle it. Normally, I’m okay with normal blood draws, but IVs, and needles being abnormal places freak me out. It’s not even the blood. I’m not sure what it is, but sometimes I do faint and get sick. It’s not fun. I was fine for the first few minutes, but they had trouble getting it to take, and soon I didn’t feel well. I didn’t pass out, but unfortunately ended up getting sick to my stomach. After that, they gave up on the forearm and put it in my wrist instead. Not too much better, but it worked.

Calm to Intense Labor

This is where I started to lose track of time and pain made all the details fuzzy. Looking back through the photos, I don’t even remember some of those moments now. Eating that piece of chocolate was one of them. Haha.

I soon got hooked up to the monitors to see the baby’s heartbeat and my contractions. The contractions started picking up as time went on, but were slow and bearable at first. I was able to talk and laugh with our L&D nurse (Reanna), my husband (Braxton), and our doula/photographer (Savannah). All three of them were absolutely wonderful and helped me feel so encouraged throughout the whole experience.

As I labored, I changed positions a lot, trying to find the best ones that eased the pain the most. Standing and holding onto Braxton was one, and being on the bed on my knees was another. Both Savannah and Reanna said they thought the baby was Sunny-side up, as I had the most intense back pain. I hardly had any belly pain; it was all in my back. I dilated slow and steady and at times was frustrated that I hadn’t progressed more.

About halfway through was when the pain started to get pretty intense. There were times when I couldn’t stay still and needed to move to get through a contraction. I kept reminding myself to breathe and not to tense up. To let my body move the baby down and to try to be as relaxed as possible. It was incredibly hard and much easier said than done. Near the end, the only thing that helped was counterpressure on my back and hips from Savannah. I was on the bed, on my hands and knees, and Savannah would squeeze my hips and back to relieve the pressure. She knew exactly what I needed and timed them perfectly. That pain was the worst. I remember wanting to give up and say, “I can’t do this,” but I’ve heard enough stories to know that when women get to that point, they are very close to meeting their baby. Through all the pain, I just kept going. I just kept breathing and reminding myself this wouldn’t last forever.

Terrifying Delivery

I knew we were getting close to meeting our baby when my body started to contract hard and push on its own. I had read about this during pregnancy and was fascinated by it. At times, the pain would be so unbearable that I let out a noise or a yell. It felt so strange to do that and to hear those noises coming from myself, but it was just my body reacting. It felt primal, surreal, and was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. My body knew what to do, and I just had to trust the process.

Once I started having those primal contractions and becoming vocal, I knew our baby would be here soon. The midwife was called in, and I began to listen to my body for when to push. It was the midwife, the nurse, Braxton, and Savannah. They were all my biggest cheerleaders, encouraging me and coaching me through pushing. Before I knew it, I felt the infamous “ring of fire.” This is when the baby’s head comes out of the vagina, and the stretching feels like a burning sensation. It was incredibly painful, and I underestimated how long I would experience it. I just kept breathing and pushing through the pain.

Pushing and breathing. Pushing and breathing. I kept bearing down with all my might, slow and steady, so I wouldn’t tear. But after a few pushes, all the energy shifted in the room. I could feel it. Something was wrong. The energy went from calm and concentrated to urgent and anxious. My midwife yelled for help, and suddenly the room was filled with people. Multiple nurses appeared on both sides of me, and were now pushing HARD on my belly, over and over again, telling me to push.

“Push! Push hard! You can do this!”

They kept pushing harder on me and telling me to pull my legs back and really bear down. My midwife called out for help again, this time with a lot more urgency in her voice. I could tell something was wrong. I could feel her trying to get our baby out. Something bad was happening. My mind was starting to spiral.

“Katie! I need you to push! Push really hard!”
“Push, push, push, push!”
“You HAVE to push HARD!”
“PUSH!”

They were all telling me to push at once, urgency and fear in their voices. I was pushing with all my might, all my strength, with everything I had in me.

“I am! I’m giving it all I’ve got!” I yelled back.

I started to get scared and felt so helpless. I was giving it everything I had, and it wasn’t enough.

My midwife yelled out a third time, “I need someone in here NOW, RIGHT NOW! ANYONE!”

The nurses all around me kept pressing hard on my belly. My midwife kept working to get the baby out, and everyone kept yelling at me to push. I felt helpless and terrified. I knew something was very wrong, and I couldn’t do anything about it. The minutes felt like hours, and all I could do was start praying as I was pushing.

I just kept saying in my head, “Jesus. God. Please help me. Please God, please.”

In those moments, time felt like it stood still. Everything around me got quiet for a few seconds despite everyone yelling, and I just felt so helpless. My mind began to spiral, and I began to think the worst thoughts… “What if we don’t have a baby to take home,” or “How could God give us this gift and take it away?” I was so scared we weren’t going to leave the hospital with a baby who was breathing…

All at once, I felt the pressure inside of me change. A release. He was out. They got him out. I hope he’s ok. God, please let him be ok.

They quickly laid him on my chest, and 2-3 nurses began vigorously rubbing him to stimulate him. His body was purple, and he was limp and not making any noises. He was a big boy, I could tell by just looking at him. I wasn’t able to even touch him since there were so many nurses rubbing him down and suctioning his nose and mouth.

At last, I heard him start making noises and let out a cry. Thank you, Jesus. Praise God!

“He’s okay. You’re okay,” someone said.
“Is he okay? Is he going to be okay?” I asked.
“Yes, yes, he’s okay,” someone said.
“Thank you, God,” was all I could think.

The nurses were praising him and me, talking to him while they were rubbing him. The energy in the room slowly started to shift back to positive. I felt relieved but also still on high alert, praying they were right and he was truly okay.

Before I got to hold him, they rushed him across the room to the warmer to examine him, make sure he was breathing okay, check that nothing was broken, and perform the first APGAR tests. My husband followed him over to make sure he was alright, and I stayed in bed as they started to deliver the placenta.

I was overwhelmed with so many emotions. Worried about him, trying to get through the pain of the nurses pressing down on my belly, and just trying to relax after what I just went through. Savannah, my doula/photographer, was there with me and reassured me everything was okay. I can’t tell you how reassuring that was to have her there in those moments. I finally felt a sense of relief.

After a few minutes, we finally found out how much our sweet boy weighed: 11 pounds and 4oz! He was HUGE! Everyone was surprised and couldn’t believe I delivered him all-natural and didn’t even tear! A few minutes later, he was returned to me, and I finally got to hold him.

When they handed him over, a flood of emotions hit me all at once. I finally got my sweet boy. All the prayers I prayed over the last 2 years, all the heartache I had with our loss last year and all the 9 long months I spent dreaming about this moment. All I could do was cry, hold him, and just thank God over and over in my mind.

What Happened During Delivery

I didn’t learn what really happened in labor and delivery until we were moved to our postpartum room and over the next couple of days. Apparently, Maverick got stuck. He experienced a shoulder dystocia — and a pretty long one at that. He was stuck for 3 minutes and 53 seconds.

After speaking with multiple nurses and one of the doctors, they explained to me that his shoulders got stuck in my pelvis, and he was wedged in there pretty good. When that happens, they can usually get the mom to try different positions and get a shoulder to come out. Once one shoulder is out, the baby usually comes out. With Maverick, his shoulders were just really stuck, and the midwife said he was such a big boy that she felt like his whole body was stuck — not just his shoulders.

Everyone there told me that it was the longest shoulder dystocia they had personally witnessed, which didn’t feel like a great record to hold. It felt like a scary one. They said that usually when a dystocia is that long, the baby isn’t very responsive when they come out, and they may need resuscitation. Thankfully, Maverick fared better than expected and scored well on the APGAR tests after a few minutes. This is also why I wasn’t able to hold him right away and why he was rubbed off quickly on my chest, then taken straight to the warmer. They wanted to examine him quickly and ensure he was breathing well and didn’t have any broken bones. Thankfully, he didn’t.

The risk with shoulder dystocia (to the best of my knowledge) is that the head is out, but the body is not. The neck is then experiencing all that pressure, and circulation can be cut off. At that point, the baby is still getting oxygen from the placenta and the cord, but if the cord is pinched by the pressure, then the baby isn’t getting oxygen to the brain. So essentially, Maverick was potentially without oxygen for those almost four minutes, which is why it was an emergency and why everything became so serious so quickly. It was also during those 3-4 minutes that time felt like hours, and I felt so helpless. I could feel both life and death lingering in that room, not knowing which one would win. I’ll never be able to quite describe that feeling and how scary it was.

For experiencing such a long shoulder dystocia, Maverick recovered better than most who go that long. They think it was due to his size. Regardless, we are just really happy he was okay, all things considered. I was also thankful that I was okay, too. I didn’t tear, didn’t hemorrhage, and didn’t have any other complications. I did end up getting Pitocin after he was born due to having such a rough delivery. Maverick also got the Vit K vaccine for the same reason. While I didn’t plan on doing either of those in my original birth plan, things changed, and we decided it was for the best. I don’t regret my decision at all and feel the pros outweighed the cons.

In hindsight, I can’t help but wonder what the outcome would have been like if we had opted for a home birth. While I know there are positions and maneuvers to try when shoulder dystocias happen, I can’t help but wonder if they still would have worked for me. Would they have been able to move me in a position to get him out quicker? Would it have been longer than 4 minutes? Would we have had to call the ambulance? Would the midwife have had to cut me open? Could she? What if he went too long without oxygen? What if he didn’t survive… I try not to think about those things, but they have crossed my mind. I’m just thankful my gut feeling and anxiety led me to the hospital instead. For me, it was the right call.

Postpartum & NICU

The next few hours after delivery were a blur, as it was morning now and around 7:30 a.m. I was exhausted. We tried breastfeeding for the first time, and it went okay. However, we noticed Maverick was making grunting noises with every breath he took. The pediatrician came to see us and said to monitor it over the next few hours to see if he would improve. She said that sometimes bigger babies need a little extra time for their lungs to adjust. We continued to try to nurse, but he kept falling asleep and not eating. When 12 pm rolled around and he didn’t show any improvement, they made the call to take him to the NICU. It was a bit heartbreaking watching them roll him away without me, but I knew it was for the best and he was in the best hands. I planned on getting some sleep and then going to see him as soon as I could.

I tried to get some sleep, but wasn’t too successful with having to pump every 2 hours, nurses coming in and of course worrying about my sweet baby. None of our babies had ever been in the NICU, so it was weird and lonely being in our postpartum room without a baby.

We went to see him the first chance we could, and delivered the first bit of colostrum/breastmilk to him. Everything was so secure in the NICU. They had double-locked doors you had to ring into, a strict hand-washing protocol, and all the NICU babies had their own individual rooms. I was happy for such a secure, clean, and private environment — but it just felt so fragile and new to me.

When we walked into his little room, my heart broke when I saw him. He was in his baby bassinet, elevated underneath the heater and was in just a diaper. He had multiple wires coming off of him — a blood pressure cuff, three different monitors for his oxygen, heart rate, and something else. Then he had a breathing tube taped to his nose and a feeding tube down his throat. While I know this pales in comparison to what other babies have been through in the NICU, it was still hard for me to see. As a parent, you never want to see your babies hurting or needing help. I had just never seen any of my kids hooked up to anything like that before, and it just hurt my heart.

The NICU doctor (Dr. Toom) and all the nurses were so wonderful to us and explained everything that was happening. They were so kind and gave incredible care to both Maverick and I in such a fragile and vulnerable time. They explained that Maverick was having trouble breathing, which was why he was making the grunting noises. His lungs weren’t expanding all the way despite him trying to hard. They said it can happen with larger babies and is usually something that improves over time. When they have trouble like that, they are putting all their energy into just breathing, get exhausted quickly, and can’t eat as effectively. They had him on a little CPAP machine with room air to help inflate his lungs, and then the feeding tube, so he didn’t have to worry about using energy to eat and could just focus on healing. Other tests were ran as well to rule out fluid in his lungs, and thankfully, he didn’t have any.

Recovery & Home at Last

Over the next few days, we continued to recover. I in the postpartum room and Maverick in the NICU. We went and saw him every chance we got and held him when we could. Since he had a feeding tube, I couldn’t breastfeed, unfortunately. Instead, I pumped every 2–3 hours and built up an amazing supply of colostrum. After I pumped every couple of hours, I would deliver what I had to his room for them to feed him through his feeding tube. I would then sit with him for a little bit, do skin-to-skin, or just get an update from the nurses and head back to bed if it was nighttime.

After 2–3 days, they took his feeding tube out, and we were able to start breastfeeding again. It went well, aside from him still being very sleepy and falling asleep while nursing. Thankfully, we had some help from the lactation consultants, and they helped give us some tricks and better positions. The hardest part was getting him positioned because he was such a heavy boy.

Saturday, December 20, 2025, we were finally discharged and went home. His breathing had improved, he had no more grunting, and we were doing well with feeding. It was a little sad to leave the comfort of the hospital and have all the help, but we were ready to get back to our own beds and be a family of 5.

Why Birth Photos

Walking through this experience reminded me why I care so deeply about photography. These images from his birth are raw, emotional, and vulnerable — and they mean everything to me. When I look at them, I don’t just see what happened. I see strength, perseverance, and love. I see fear and faith sitting side by side. I see how close we came to something very different, and how beautiful the outcome was.

Photography is so incredibly powerful because it freezes moments we never want to forget — even the hard ones. Especially the hard ones. Our stories shape us into who we are, how we live, and how we love. Being able to document the real, raw, and genuine moments for others is something I will always cherish and never take for granted.

Special Thanks

A special thanks to Savannah Bryan (Savannah A Photography), who was our doula/photographer and now friend. She was amazing in every single way from the beginning to the end. She spent so much time with us in the weeks before his birth, getting to know us, explaining what to expect, answering a million questions, and being the best support. When the big day finally came, she arrived quickly, knew exactly what positions would help me, coached my husband on what to do to support me, and helped me advocate for myself and our birth experience. Not only did she capture Maverick’s birth beautifully, but she was so supportive in the following weeks after we came home from the hospital. She was always a text away and helped ease a lot of my anxiety. I cannot be more grateful for her. Savannah, thank you so much.
Photos taken and edited by: Savannah A Photography