The Story of a Fae Birth

Late night, the Eve of November 2nd 2019.

The kids have been kidnapped by grandparents, who've been kindly trying to give us one last weekend alone together before baby arrives. Both Greg and I had sought ideas of things we wanted to do this weekend and came up short. Not that we didn't try the basics:

• Fancy dinner plan: not worth it due to strict diet-control for GD these past 3 months, so I wasn't really in much of a mood for it. Greg's point of view on fancy food is mostly Cheerios-based anyway.
• Movie theater: there's really not much playing right now. Big titles not worth the time, indie movies right now also at their lowest, given the right radius around our hospital (we had decided even SF is too far to wonder because we're already full term).
• Music night: again, can't believe there's nothing going on right now. A small-room underground concert by Cellista downtown, which actually has a great sound but it overflows my taste after the first two minutes, in my current mental state.
• Visual Arts: I had started last week with a veiled threat: Greg, think of something you wanna do this weekend, otherwise I'll drag you to a paint nite! Well, even this failed as there was no event with an interesting/challenging painting nearby.
• Cooking classes: found a traveling chef that would come to our home to teach how to cook three curries in 2.5h, including Chicken Tikka Masala! This could happen Saturday so all hope is not lost.
• Movie binge at home: Greg's favorite so far. Proposals were I Am Mother and Enemy. They both struck the worst chord in me at first title mention, and I completely refused to even try it. Not that Greg didn't push and push in the most hilarious ways, we'll probably remember this for a long time. Just like him trying to read Isaac Asimov's Foundation series to me six years ago.

Bottom line: all I wanted was to spend time with Mara and Gaius, and they weren't here and I missed them to tears. Literally. Tried a long bathtub while the sounds of a baby crying in I Am Mother were resonating from downstairs - Greg was still blithely trying to get me to “accidentally” watch it.

Late Night Nesting Spree

11:00pm. As I try to analyze my state of anxiety, I decide we're still not really ready for baby’s arrival so I end up moving and organizing more things in the house.

11:30pm. Greg comes in to announce the fireball-yielding Tauroid meteor shower wasn't yielding anything, he had tried watching the sky for about 30 minutes to see only clearly-unmoving stars and airplanes. He goes to bed, leaving me to my frantically-unnecessary nesting.

3:00am. I finally have the new high-tech diaper backpack prepared with hospital items and ready by the front door. I could finally relax.

I go outside and lie down under the clear night sky - Greg had left the lounge mats ready. I install StarWalk2 to help me find the Taurus constellation - that's where the meteors would be showing up. It quite conveniently was straight up above! A few minutes in, and a very clear, conventional falling star streaks across the sky. Happy for a mild success, I keep meditating, breathing in the clean night air, and looking up.

Fireball in the Sky

3:30am. It started at one end of the backyard's sky, among tree branches. Large, blazing, with a clear aura of white gold, and a 6 inches long sharp tail streaking behind it like the train of an exquisite wedding gown.

This was the first falling star I've ever seen that had an actual 🌟 shaped outline. And it was long-lived and wonderful to see, to truly savor the ethereal experience. It slowly blazed across the entire sky for what it seemed like two whole seconds as I watched it entranced, until it disappeared in the pine tree's outer branches.

It's trail had emblazoned into my retina so I close my eyes and treasure the moment, making my wish for Baby to be healthy. Then I go inside and right to sleep, happily at peace.

It's Happening

4:30am. A strange feeling wakes me up, and after the first moment of confusion I realize this had happened before, four and a half years ago. Water break - confusing at first, but definitely clear with every move I make. Baby starts stretching and turning, having also detected the change in her environment. I rest for a bit more to make sure it's real, and soon enough contractions kick in. It’s starting.

5:00am. I install two apps to keep track of contraction timing - yes that's how "ready" we were: comparison shopping for apps during labor… Anyhow, Easy Contraction Timer lost to Contraction Timer because the latter has dark mode - bright white lights are oxytocin killers and we don’t want them during labor.

5:26am. Contractions have been consistently 7 minutes apart. So yes it's totally happening and I should probably go to the hospital. Greg's still sleeping and I want to let him have as much rest as possible today. Dads don't get the natural oxytocin cocktail in their blood to help them cope and sustain the effort, so labor is actually quite intense for them as well.

Thus, like any “sane” person, I get up, get dressed for hospital, and start slowly moving bags to the car, with small intermittent breaks to cope with contractions. Of course, the trunk hadn't been emptied post-shopping so I’m getting a bunch of bags and baskets out and into the house with each trip.

This takes about 26 minutes as I'm moving quite slowly throughout. Luckily, contractions had subsided, bowing to my strong focus of "need to go to hospital sooner this time". On Gaius's labor we had walked in the hospital right as he was going through transition (final stage of labor, before active pushing) so I ended up walking the corridors through the hardest part of it, no time to stop and cope. So yeah, this time we were definitely going early.

6:11am. I figure this is a humane enough hour that I can wake up the midwife. Thus I call her with all the details. She has the most adorable, cheerful and calming voice for a person who was just woken up while on-call. I tell her I'm convinced contractions will slow down later on, she laughs: I'm sure I'll see you within the hour.. call when you start driving to the hospital.

6:13am. Willow comes in from her nightly meanderings and comes to my side for moral support. We literally hold paws for the next several contractions - it turns out fluff is a great focus point to help me through them. And she’s calm and sweet and makes great eye contact; almost a complete Greg replacement, only lacking opposable thumbs.

6:19am. After yet another contraction, I call Greg's phone to wake him up because I can't physically make it back up the stairs to do it in person - all I want is to lie down.

He's groggy and confused - why would I call on the phone in the middle of the night?! He eventually comes down to check on me, finds me on the couch and goes through various stages of sleepy denial: are you joking? what do you mean labor started? how serious are you right now? 7 minutes apart?

Funnily enough he's come down soon after a contraction had ended, so I have no "proof" to convince him during those few minutes of conversation. Then it kicks in again and he snaps to reality and holds my hand, while gently grabbing my phone with the other and recording this new one on the app.

Once it passes, I tell him to go shower and get himself ready, hopefully quickly. He manages to do it in just a few minutes so I only have one more contraction with just me and Willow.

6:47am. Getting in the car, calling midwives to meet us at the hospital. Turns out getting in a compact Chevy Volt while in labor is a bit tricky, but Greg helps. The drive is quick and uneventful this time. No other slow drivers on the road for Greg to politely yield to, as he had done last time we were going through this.

7:04am. We've entered the hospital! It's a huge relief to be here, after having had one other tough contraction right as I was getting out of the Chevy's front seat. It had made me sit back down for a bit.

We walk through the empty corridors, nobody at desks to ask us questions. The hallway is warmly lit, floors shiny clean.

Two nice teenagers are roaming confusedly in front of us, looking for a sleep study and vocally wondering if the door will trigger an alarm if they open it. I tell them that door is gonna open one way or another cause I need to get through there very soon. Slow realisation dawns onto their faces, they turn and push the door open with wide eyes and hold it for us.

A desk clerk is there this time, he points them towards the sleep study. For me and Greg, he just smiles and nods, then sits back behind the screen.

From here on we go on what seems like an eerie trip to the past, to a strangely familiar place, but devoid of all life. Exactly what a video game would feel like, with your heart beating fast as you're wondering when all chaos will be unleashed. But you go onward and onward, getting closer and closer to that one, special room.

We turn the last corner and finally two friendly but tired faces greet us gently. It's close to the end of the shift - they swap staff at 7:30am. Even so, they are kind and patient. As she's setting up the baby monitor, one of the nurses admits she's a bit sad she won't get to see the baby because she swaps out in a few minutes.

Greg is here, baby sounds good, Lin is on the way. When she finally gets there, we're pretty much ready for the final lap.

7:23am. It's been 19min since we entered the hospital when baby Fae is born, thus beating Gaius's record by 1 minute.

Lin didn't even get enough time to put on gloves before delivering her, she laughed heartily at that afterwards. Fae's umbilical cord was loosely wrapped around her body a few times, apparently she'd been busy these past nine months. Luckily she had enough length to do as she pleased - and I got to see for the first time Greg cutting the cord right in front of my eyes while I was holding her, a sweet moment together which I will treasure.

Last but not least, that first nurse faces me with a huge smile and thanks me for having the baby on time for her to still be a part of it, 7 minutes before closing shift!

Fae

Our very first look at her confirmed what both our hearts had settled on the past two months: Fae Evelyn Tener. She’s the one. Nova had come in as a close second, and given the blazing fireball announcing her birth that night it would have made a good choice, but Fae/Evie looks like she owns her name just right and with no doubts about it.

Welcome to the world, Fae Evelyn Tener!

<3

Timing Resources 
I had to figure out the real timeline based on multiple data sources, because during labor my perception of time was dilated as well. Here's what helped narrow it down:

Contraction Timer - the app recording the contractions; see attached screenshot.

Raccoon Blocker - Sure Petcare automatic kitty door, phone/app connected, which recognizes Willow's chip and only let her in, also attached screenshot.

Android's phone log - for the Bay Area Maternity calls and the wakeup for Greg.