Ashly Brady

This isn’t quite the update I imagined sharing, but as many of you know, our little boy made his debut earlier this October—almost three months before his due date. Before I dive into the details, I want to start by saying that both of us are healthy and doing well. Cameron is growing stronger every day! I can hardly believe that next Friday marks a month since he was born. It’s amazing how time flies, and how quickly babies change. As much as I want him to keep growing so we can bring him home, a part of me wants time to slow down so I can soak in these tiny, precious moments. It’s a strange mix of emotions, much like postpartum itself—a bit of a roller coaster! But I want to focus on sharing our birth story, because even without a birth plan, this was an experience I never could have predicted.

The week before Cameron’s birth, I started feeling cramps—like period cramps but slightly more intense. They weren’t frequent, and since I was far enough along for Braxton Hicks contractions, I brushed it off. Everything I read online said it was normal, so aside from the occasional complaint to my mom, I tried not to worry. By the end of the week, though, the cramps became more regular, and I noticed other symptoms that finally made me call the midwives at my clinic. They reassured me that it sounded normal but said to check back if things progressed.

On Friday, October 4th, I tried to stay calm—it was my brother’s birthday, and we were at the theater. The cramps were still manageable and far enough apart that I didn’t call back. The next day, I spent time with a friend, helping her get ready for our girls’ night. By now, the cramps were more frequent and uncomfortable, but still bearable. I was more tired than usual but took a quick nap, which helped. During our girls’ night, two of us were pregnant, and two had recently had babies, so naturally, the conversation turned to pregnancy, birth, and motherhood. I mentioned my symptoms, half-joking about my fear of preterm labor. But as a first-time mom, I doubted I could actually be going into labor, so I powered through.

Later that night, the cramps intensified, and by the time I got home, I was in too much discomfort to ignore it any longer. I couldn’t get comfortable, and the cramps became so frequent that I finally called the midwives around midnight. They told me to come in. I woke up Carson, told him we needed to go to the hospital, and since we didn’t expect to stay, we didn’t bring anything with us. But as soon as we arrived and they hooked me up to monitors, I was admitted. My contractions were already five minutes apart, I was a few centimeters dilated, and nearly fully effaced. Plus, Cameron was breech.

They started me on fluids and magnesium sulfate to slow the contractions, which would only work for 48 hours. I also received a steroid shot to help Cameron’s lungs develop. After a few hours, the contractions eased, and since I wasn’t dilating further, they decided to transfer us to a hospital better equipped for preterm babies under 28 weeks. So, I had my first (and definitely most expensive!) ambulance ride. The doctors at the new hospital checked me, and in just that short trip, I had dilated more. They increased the magnesium dose, which helped, and since I wasn’t in active labor, I was moved to a unit for high-risk patients. We stayed there from Sunday night until Tuesday morning.

On Monday, I received a second steroid shot, and the magnesium drip was scheduled to stop at 6 a.m. on Tuesday. As soon as it stopped, the contractions returned. By late morning, the doctor checked, and I was five centimeters dilated. Although my water hadn’t broken yet, they decided it was time—Cameron was too small to risk any complications from a natural birth. 

When they confirmed we were having Cameron, a wave of nurses flooded the room to prepare me for a C-section. I’d never seen so many people in one place—it was overwhelming, but Carson was by my side the entire time, and we had an incredible care team. Despite my fears about C-sections, the procedure itself was the least scary part of the whole experience. Cameron arrived with a strong cry, and it was such a relief. He surprised everyone with his size for his age, weighing in at 3 lbs 1.4 oz. Since then, he’s been thriving! He’s already 25 days old, has surpassed his birth weight, and is approaching 31 weeks gestation. He just needs a little more time to grow, and soon, we’ll bring him home!

For my recovery, things have been better than expected. Those first few days were rough—standing up for the first time felt like my insides were going to fall out! But over time, it’s gotten easier, especially with regular movement. Now, at three weeks postpartum, I can finally sleep on my side again, which feels like a huge win. I’m starting to physically feel like myself again.

Emotionally, this journey hasn’t been easy, but we’re taking it one day at a time. Knowing it’s only temporary helps; we’ll bring him home soon and start our lives together as a family. Until then, I’m letting myself feel all the feelings, showing up for Cameron every day, and counting down until the day we finally get to bring him home.