Emerald Reign's Entrance Into This World

(Photos are at the bottom of page)

"THE BLUR" and Emerald's grand first adventure!!

It all happened so fast. A giant blur entangled with small moments woven together to bring us to that very one special sigh of relief, that first look, that first sound, that first breath. All of the paths in life, all of the choices, all of the steps, all of the things that went into making that very moment happen. It unfolded in the most imperfect but perfect way. Imprinted on our souls forever the moment we brought our precious, perfect, beautiful, words can't even describe her Emerald Reign Fisher into this world, into this realm, into this existence to experience life with us.

It absolutely didn't happen the way we planned. For both Dave and I that has been our individual stories as well for most of our lives. Life does this thing where it surprises you, takes you on twists and turns you didn't see coming. It has its own way of unraveling things the way it decides is best and we have to pivot and allow ourselves to be flexible and to navigate the journey we may not have prepared for but the one that was made for us.

So, the birthing pool stayed dry, the dim lights went off, the bags packed in a rush, the blur began... the blur full of all the moments started as Dave turned the car on and pulled out of the drive. To the hospital we went.

A little earlier that day, (the 19th) I had decided before the adventure of bringing Emerald earth side started that it would probably be better to stay home and not be in the car for an hour to the midwife appointment. She asked me to check my blood pressure just to be sure everything way okay. I did. In that moment I went from washing and sorting a huge box of fresh picked beets from the garden to seeing on my phone screen, "get to the hospital now"

Something I knew could happen but thought I had under control crept up on me. Pre-eclampsia looked to be visiting instead of being only a concern. Something I was cautious of and did my best to keep away came taking over quickly.

At the visit with the midwife only 2 weeks prior everything was great, everything was going according to plan and then the plan turned itself into the blur that spiraled quickly into something we did not have on our checklist.

Dave was at work, my mind was spinning, nothing was ready for leaving. I called Dave, he left work, I began packing and trying to not panic.

"Stay calm, you can't panic, hold it together!" I repeated those words in my mind silently as I moved through the motions to pack for the hospital. Into a bag went the essentials. My mind was racing as I went in her room. The birthing pool stared at me as I squeezed by to get into the dresser. The positive birthing affirmations posted on the board glared at me in anticipation as if they were mocking me. My mind saying, "you aren't good enough"

"Stop, focus... Dave is going to need you to be calm so he doesn't panic" I told myself as I held back tears and gently placed the delicate baby items into the bag that had been so perfectly displayed."

Once the must have items were packed I thought about what I wanted for comfort. The salt lamps, frankincense oil, and my own pillows and blankets. I hopped in the shower and quickly got ready as Dave pulled into the driveway.

I don't remember the ride to the hospital. All I remembered was my mind telling me over and over that I can't do anything right. "No matter how hard you try, no matter how much you heal, no matter how much you plan, you still fail!" Those thoughts plagued my soul on the ride through Cambridge. Dave gave me comfort and told me everything would be okay.

The blur, the one that took over, everything happened in a blur... all of those moments woven together are confused in my mind. It happened so quickly.

The urine test, blood test, and blood pressure check came back and immediately things went from "let's see" to "this baby needs delivered as soon as possible." Pre-eclampsia arrived and wasn't holding back.

We felt like we didn't have any control. It felt like all of the things that were important to us for the baby was going out the window. We wanted to keep things natural, real, living. There we were in the hands of the industry we did everything to avoid.

These moments, these hard ones, these scary ones, these unknown moments are what make a person, they are what makes a couple, they are what can create or break a bond.

They started me on a magnesium drip to keep me from having seizures. The thoughts again came back into my mind as the nurses poked the needle in. I looked at Dave sitting in the chair. "You are letting him down, you are failing already as a mom to this baby, you can't even birth right, Dave deserves a partner that can bring a child into the world organically not with synthetics." My mind wouldn't stop and I couldn't hold back the tears anymore. Dave once again gave me comfort, reassuring me I didn't do anything wrong."

We had a huge conversation with the doctor. We were told the majority of our wishes could be followed through with and since this was the Dr that did our gender ultrasound we already felt comfortable with him. Not exactly comfortable because he did give us both weird vibes but we convinced ourselves we felt okay with him. Dave and I agreed that we could readjust and be okay with delivering at the hospital with Dr. Wright.

Time goes by. How much I'm not sure. Dr. Wright comes in and in that, 'I have bad news to tell you' doctor face he sat on the stool right beside my bed. He knew we wouldn't take it lightly, he knew he had to choose his words precisely to keep us from unraveling. He told us we would have to transfer to the bigger hospital in Columbus.

There it was again. The universe with the surprises. The universe with the plans.

I was to go by ambulance and Dave was to follow behind. An hour and a half ride into the disgusting city. The opposite of tranquility, the opposite of nature, the opposite of our plan.

The car seat! Shoot we don't have the car seat.

Dave went back home to get the car seat. I waited on the ambulance to arrive back from a different transport mission.

Time, in these moments time is like the blur. Maybe time is the blur. I don't know but it all happened so quickly. The tiny details lost on me. How long did it take I'm not sure but it seemed quicker than I would have thought. The male EMT had pirate tattoos. A map on his arm as if he knew the secret destination of some kind of treasure. A large pirate ship and some words that I can't remember. Small chat was exchanged as he tried to make the loading up less scary. The female EMT sat behind me and did her best to make sure I was comfortable. Nausea leaped at me like a leopard attacking. She passed me the plastic throw up bag as she strapped me in the back of the ambulance.

I never rode in one before. One time when I was a kid at school they had the EMT's come and we got to tour the ambulances and push all the buttons along with a few fire trucks. This wasn't cool like I thought it would be back when I was in the first grade. This was scary and I wanted Dave.

The ride that was an hour and a half oddly went by super fast. The pirate of transporting the dead or the dying was a fast driver. We pulled into the other hospital and I was ushered in.

It was busy, sick people all over the halls, inmates walking and being guarded by the police as they await their medical emergency. This is the city. The opposite of home, the opposite of peace and love, the opposite of high vibrational.

One young employee- a hipster type that probably hangs out in the morgue because he wants to seem cool and edgy guided us through the hallways. He told us the elevator kept getting stuck last week. I protested that I wasn't in the mood to give birth on a stuck elevator without the father. I checked the 360 app- Dave was pulling in.

The hipster cool kid broke the rules on my behalf and took us through the basement to the employee only elevators. The basement was weird, it looked like underground tunnels and they had actual robots down there. Robots wheeling around as if they were working to support their family. These robots doing tasks with zero human assistance. I was reminded how far society has come from its roots.

The whole reason we wanted a home birth was to experience the process in a natural, loving, and peaceful environment. One where we could let things unfold without robots, without a morgue beneath our feet, without beeping sounds of machines, with soft lights and not the ones blinding me as we got on the employee elevator.

I was checked into triage and questioned about a million things. This test, that test, this swab, that swab, fear was used to try and persuade me. The magnesium that was pumping into me was making me weak. I turned down everything that wasn't necessary and listened to the lecture basically telling me I'm being an idiot but I stood my ground.

Somehow Dave and I ended up back together in the room we would be birthing in. That blur I keep talking about has sucked up all of the details.

The room looked like it was falling apart. Major repairs needed to be done. It wasn't even luxurious like the other birthing centers most hospitals have. That wing won't be ready until next February they told us as they tried to make excuses for the scrapped up fold out sofa.

The doctor talked to us about our induction options. Labor needed to get started. I opted for the balloon thing because at least it wasn't more chemicals being put into an IV.

They checked to see if I was at any stage of labor yet. Good news I was already dilated to a 2 and they used some other descriptions to determine what phase I was in. Here we go again with the universe and it's funny little plans. They told us the balloon wouldn't be necessary because I was at least in the early stages of naturally beginning labor.

The universe with its plans showed up again and another decision had to be made. Start petocin to induce labor and because the risk of my blood pressure going higher was too dangerous I also made the decision for the epidural. All of these things I tried so hard to avoid became our reality. They even tossed around the idea of a c-section being the best route but luckily I think the universe decided Dave and I were at our breaking point and we at least didn't have to compromise on that.

The nurses did their best to reassure us they wouldn't cut the cord unless absolutely necessary. They told us of the situations that would require them to such as baby not breathing or something serious. All we wanted was for her to be healthy and safe. That was all we have been focusing on ever since the stick I peed on had a line on it and we found out she was growing inside of me. Now, in that moment as the doctor broke my water all I could do was surrender to the creator and know that everything would be okay and it was all happening the way it was meant to.

Once again confirmation of how good of a team Dave and I are was proven. We easily made each decision together, struggling together, with each compromise but not once taking it out on the other. I am grateful for that. In each phase of this process I thought to myself how grateful I am to finally have a partner in life that is with me and not a foreigner to everything important to me.

The Dr let us rest for a bit to see if breaking my water would let labor begin or if petocin was needed.

That blur, yes, the one with all of the moments entangled together has consumed the little details and time was swallowed up in there too. Minutes felt like hours and hours felt like Minutes and everything seemed to be a weird dream. The only thing I think that held us together was knowing we would soon be holding our little treasure.

Breaking my water wasn't enough. Of course it wasn't. I already had the epidural that I spent half of the pregnancy preparing mentally that I didn't need it. I envisioned natural birth, at home, in the comfort of the birthing pool with Dave. I didn't need or want to numb all of the pain. I wanted to feel my body bring this sweet baby into the world the way it was intended to. The pain was meant to be there and instead of viewing it as pain I had decided I would view it as strength and a friend to naturally bring her into our physical existence. None of that mattered though because the universe had different plans. The petocin was started. The epidural was in and all that was left to do was surrender and wait. We both slept a bit and when we woke up I started having contractions. They were mild but stronger than the ones I had been having off and on at home for the week prior. I knew we were getting closer. I don't remember all of the conversations with the Dr's. I don't remember exactly how it all went with all of the small details. Maybe it was hours, maybe it was minutes, I'm not sure. I held Dave's hand as each wave came closer and closer together.

I do recall the nurse asking me to do a test push while she was checking to see how far I'd progressed. She said it wouldn't be long and they began prepping.

There had to be 12 at least in there of doctors and nurses. All there watching. Dave stood beside me and helped me as I pushed. Unnaturally on my back, in the city, in the falling apart birthing room, with an audience of at least 12 strangers I mentally told myself to surrender and just do what needs to be done. I pushed when I was told. I felt the wave but the wave wasn't nearly as painful as what I had prepared for because I was numb. I was upset internally that I wasn't feeling more of it. Second push and I could feel her beginning to come earth side. I was surprised. I figured it would be a longer process. Third push and she was out. I felt her slide into this earth, into this dimension, into this reality. I couldn't believe how easy and quick that part went. They placed her on top of me and in that moment the blur vanished and time stopped. She cried loud. We didn't have to cut the cord. I looked at Dave and looked at her and my whole world felt safe and perfect for the first time in a while. All of the comprising, all of the decisions, all of the plans going wrong, all of the time waiting, all of the worries, all of the struggles, all vanished.

I slowly birthed the placenta while our beautiful, perfect, incredible baby immediately began nursing as if she had been doing it for a thousand years. Her instincts were intact despite the things pumping through my body.

Dave wasn't sure what to think. He was silent but I knew what he felt because I felt it too. Relief, love, and feelings words don't exist for. Her head full of hair, her perfect little tiny self laying there on me nursing and the placenta slowly coming out of me. The cord still intact, her vernix coating her beautiful pink skin, and for the first time since the whole blur began we finally felt like we could get back on our plan. Nothing else mattered in that moment. The 12 or more strangers doing what they needed to didn't even bother me, the compromises we made didn't seem like too big of a deal, this perfect little being as close to the creator as possible was here with us.

We kept the cord intact until we no longer felt it pulsating. The nurse tried to tell us it only takes about 5 minutes. 3 hours went by and it was still pulsating. Our original plan was to keep it intact until it naturally fell off (a lotus birth).

However, this was when we decided to compromise ourselves from our own plan. with the bowl holding the placenta and the cord still attached to the baby and trying to figure out the hospital bed and the uncomfortable chair and passing back and forth was already super challenging by the 3rd hour. We decided to cut the cord once all pulsating was finished. I think it took about 3 and a half hours. Far from the 10 minutes maximum we had been informed on. Knowing our precious Emmy was able to receive all of her blood made us feel so much better. It is hers for a reason and she needs it not the underground system.

They placed the placenta and the cord in a bowl with a lid for us to bring home.

No eye junk, no vitamin K, no vaccines. The things that really truly at the end of the day mattered to us the absolute most were honored. We had to stand our ground plenty of times and most people would have probably caved but we stayed strong to what felt right in the depths of our core. Despite the magnesium drip trying to hold me down I still managed to nurse. I couldn't hardly hold her but I could do it laying down.

I wasn't going to be too weak to feed her real milk no matter what kind of will power I had to muster. Dave was incredible. I loved watching his father instincts kick in as I watched in a blurry haze. I couldn't hardly lift my arms and the buttons on the cloth diapers was more than my small amount of strength could handle. He changed her first few poop diapers like a pro although the cloth diapers swallowed her tiny body up. He let the nurse show him how to swaddle her and he made sure she was safe while I dozed in and out of sleep while she nursed.

Because of the magnesium I wasn't able to be alone with her. Dave had to be there or a nurse had to come sit with me while he went to grab us something to eat or stretch his legs.

The only energy I had was used to slowly walk to the bathroom and back to the bed. I had to have assistance so I wouldn't fall or pass out. I couldn't hold Emmy the way a mom does, she had to lay beside me but it didn't matter because she was there. She was safe. She was healthy. She was perfect. She was so content and satisfied. My heart was so full.

More tests were done on me to see how things were going. My iron decided to deplete it's self even more. It dropped down to 6.4 here we go again with another compromise. This one even bigger than the rest. A blood transfusion. Words I didn't want to hear. Lengthy conversations with the doctor and a couple of nurses and our midwife and each other and me finally giving in because I was tired of almost passing out just from simply having a conversation. Once the magnesium drip was finished (24 hours total) I got the blood transfusion. By the time the magnesium wore off and the transfusion was finished I felt like I could see the light at the end of the tunnel again and instead of it seeming like a train was running over me I actually felt a whole lot more like myself.

We spent hours I'm sure gushing about our baby. Looking at her. Both of us in amazement about how incredibly perfect she is. We vowed no matter what she will never question if she is loved, she will always felt heard, and she will always be safe.

That was how our precious Emerald Reign Fisher made her big debut, the first of many many many more adventures of Emmy.

The blur with all of the hard decisions, the blur with all of the scary moments, the blur where time was swallowed up, the blur where we didn't know what to do finally faded away and all that remained was unconditional love for one another and our perfect Emmy. Our little family whole and intact.

I wrote this in the small quiet moments while nursing our little Emerald, while her dad had a tousle with installing the car seat, while we waited on the green light to make our way way home. An hour and a half drive is about take place as we begin our next adventure, the next adventure we've waited our entire lives for, the next adventure of our precious Emmy.

Her first chapter began promptly on time at exactly 11:30am on the dot August 20th 2025

Weighing 6 pounds and 6.14 ounces

20 inches

A tiny perfect little soul.