Jess: On the evening of November 20, 2012, Wes yelled through the
bathroom door, “I’ve made some salsa that just might be hot enough to induce
labor!” I don’t remember my exact reply, but it was something along the lines
of, “Too late!” My water had broken and our first child was on the way. My mom
and stepdad had just arrived a few hours before to celebrate Thanksgiving with
us, so first we told them, and then we called the midwife. Since I had not had
any contractions yet, she told me to stay at home until I felt some or a few
hours had passed. So we had dinner, took showers, and watched Airplane! Then we headed to the
hospital.
And nothing happened.
For almost a full day, we hung out in the labor room, with
my pitocin gradually being increased but having no effect. I wasn’t supposed to
get up and walk around because I was hooked up to baby monitoring equipment as
well as an IV; my blood pressure had skyrocketed and they were pretty concerned
about that. I arrived at the hospital 3cm dialated, but 26 hours after my water
broke I was only 4. After attempting a few measures to speed the process along,
my midwife finally said aloud what we had been dreading: c-section. She and the
OB were concerned about baby developing an infection after being exposed for so
long.
Surgery and I do not get along. James was born at 10:21
p.m., healthy and screaming. He was 6 pounds, 1 ounce and 18.5 inches long. Wes
was able to hold him pretty soon after. But my midwife lovingly referred to me
as a “train wreck” in the days to come. I needed I don’t even know how many supplements,
lots of extra attention, and two blood transfusions during my 3.5 more days in
the hospital. Even today, I feel like I was robbed of the birth experience I
wanted. For weeks and months afterward, I felt guilty for bringing my child
into the world in this way. I hated that my body couldn’t do what it was made
to do.
Flash forward almost 3.5 years. On the morning of April 6,
we had a routine prenatal appointment. We were 3 weeks away from Joseph’s due
date, and even though James was early I think Wes and I were both pretty
convinced that this baby would stay put longer. But at the appointment, the
doctor checked my progress and said she was sure we would have a baby within
two weeks. At first, we both panicked, but then we made a few plans for the
days and weeks to come and settled back down into waiting for baby.
All day that day, I had cramps on and off. I assumed they
were due to the exam and went about my business. James and I went to the
library, we had dinner at Wes’ church… just a generally normal day. Wes and I
watched some TV, at which point I complained that the cramping had been pretty
annoying but not really painful. It wasn’t until we were going to sleep that I
realized that the cramping had become somewhat regular. That perhaps I was
having contractions. I decided to time them; at this point, Wes had already
fallen asleep. Less than a minute after beginning to time the “cramps,” I felt
and heard a “pop!” I sprang out of bed and ran to the bathroom—my water had
broken!
After calming down and getting myself situated, I went in to
wake up Wes. I’ve never seen him wake up or move quite as fast as he did when I
said, “Um, honey? My water broke.”
For the next hour or so, we made phone calls, finished
packing our hospital bag, and waited for our friend Ryan to come and stay with
James. I spent most of the time in the shower, which was a really great way to
deal with contractions. By the time we left, they were about 2-3 minutes apart
and lasting about 1 minute.
The drive to the hospital was the worst of my life. When we
got in the car, Wes realized that we had no gas, so we had to stop at HEB. I
was in enough pain that I leapt out of the car and wandered the gas station
while he filled up, having several contractions in the minutes that getting gas
required. The 30 minute trip to the hospital seemed like it would never end. I
have never been so happy to arrive at the emergency room. Wes grabbed
everything and we started making our way to labor and delivery, but I had to
stop several times on the way because I could no longer walk or talk through
contractions.
Our doula, Josie, met us at check-in, where Wes was able to
fill out the one bit of paperwork required. I think the nurses recognized that
I was in no mood to labor at their desk, so they got us into a room pretty
quickly. They were a little worried about my fluid levels so I had an IV of
saline for a short time. The nurses checked me and found I was 4 cm
dilated—already as far as I had gotten with James and it had only been a couple
of hours! We filled out more paperwork (so much paperwork!) and then labor set
in even harder.
The next 4 or so hours is kind of a blur. I had major back labor so Josie and Wes took
turns putting as much pressure as possible on my back during each contraction.
I stood, I laid down, I got on all fours, and I told myself repeatedly that I
just needed to get through one more contraction. Somewhere along the way my
water fully broke—only the forebag had broken at home. At several points, I was
sure that there was no way I could get through labor without pain medication.
Without Josie and Wes, I’m sure I couldn’t have—they were so supportive. When I
felt like I couldn’t take it any more, the nurses told me it was time to be
checked again. I had already decided (in my own mind) that if I wasn’t at least
6 cm, I would ask for an epidural. I was at 9! I distinctly remember laughing
somewhat and saying to everyone, “I think I might be able to do this!”
The nurses told me to let them know when I felt pressure
because that would mean that pushing time was getting close. Not long after
that check, I felt intense pressure—9.5 cm. They called the doctor and started
getting the room ready for delivery. I know a whole bunch more people came in, but
I don’t recall meeting any of them except Dr. Forbes; she was not my OB, but
she was on call so there we were. The only moment during labor when I wanted to
yell at/hit someone was when she came in during my “practice” pushes and told
the nurses to call her back when I was closer to delivering. If I hadn’t been
mid-contraction, we would have had some words…
Not long after that, pushing began in earnest, the doctor
came back, and I became concerned again that I couldn’t do it. “The ring of
fire” is no freaking joke. But when someone said, “I can see his hair!” I knew
that I was going to bring this boy into the world. A few pushes later, he was
out! I know it sounds cliché and crazy, but I instantly forgot all the pain,
all of the fear, all of the challenges. Joseph was perfect; he screamed bloody
murder until the moment they placed him on me. He was so content to lay on his
Momma, and I could have stayed like that forever. I’m pretty sure Wes didn’t
get to hold him for an hour or so. Oops. This birth was so redeeming for me,
and just so amazing. It has been six weeks and I still can’t believe that I did
it. And I’m more in love with this precious baby every day.
Wes: I stubbed my
toe on the way into the prenatal ward. Worst pain anyone has ever experienced.
