Jack's Birth Story by April Garner

It was 7 am on Wednesday, February 27th, Jason and I were checking into Seton, preparing to induce labor and deliver Jack. It was a cold morning, just getting light when we drove to the hospital. Neither of us had slept well the night before, we were too excited. Checking in, though, I felt nervous. I was worried that labor wouldn't progress well, as I knew happened sometimes with inductions. I had intended to do things "all natural," without drugs, but I'd heard that Pitocin-induced contractions could be more intense, and I was afraid it might jeopardize my ability to cope with the pain. Mostly, though, I was ecstatic and I couldn't believe that we were actually going to finally meet this little man.

It had been just one week earlier, at my 38-week appointment, when Dr. Nunnelly recommended an induction. Jack's weight was on the low side, and his rate of growth had been slow. It was possible, despite his good performance on the biophysical fetal profiles and non-stress tests, that Jack wasn't getting enough nourishment from the placenta. Dr. N didn't think anything was wrong, but he wanted to err on the side of caution. "A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush," he said. (I think I might finally understand what that means.) So there we were, at 39 weeks, checking into the hospital with our backpack full of labor goodies, then heading down the hall to the room where our lives would be forever and happily altered.

In the LDR room we met our nurse, Shannon. I took this as a good omen since my sister-in-law, whom I love to death, is also named Shannon. From the very start Shannon was exactly what we needed. She was funny, relaxed, competent and attentive, but not over-bearing or too sugary sweet. She knew when to let things go, like allowing me to move around without the damned blood pressure cuff on me (going off every 30 minutes even though my blood pressure was and always has been perfectly fine). Shannon examined me and found I was 1 centimeter dilated. She and Billy, the nursing student, started an IV. It took them three tries to get it in, which left me with a bit of a bruise. Billy, bless his heart, looked like a deer in headlights through most of my labor. He seemed very sweet, but I'm not sure he's cut out for labor and delivery. Shannon started the Pitocin, and Dr. Nunnelly came in and was able to break my water about 8 am. That's when the contractions started.

At first, they were bearable, like mild menstrual cramps. We noted them with interest as they passed, making the line on the monitor go up and down. Our families came in and visited, and I chatted amiably enough with everyone, although was pretty much tied to the bed with the IV, fetal heart monitor, and contraction monitor. Getting up to use the bathroom was a major production and required a lot of Jason's help. As the contractions became longer, stronger, and closer together, I began to get quiet during them. At some point, I asked Jason to clear everyone out, so it was just him and me. Nurse Shannon would come in to check the monitors every so often. Somewhere in there, Dr. N reappeared to check my cervix right in the middle of a contraction - that was fun.

I was 5 centimeters dilated and halfway there. I used breathing exercises to get through each contraction, and Jason would breathe with me, making sure I didn't hold my breath or go too fast. I went through several different positions, alternating between lying in bed, sitting on a birthing ball, and standing up. All this went on for hours, and by about 1 pm, I was no longer speaking - just breathing. The pain was so intense I could barely keep myself from hyperventilating with each contraction. Soon there were no breaks in between them. One would come and not entirely go away before the next one started. I could no longer focus on the "prize" at the end, I just wanted the pain to stop. If I could've spoken, I'd have said, "I changed my mind. I don't want to have a baby today. Make it stop, and let's go home." I was also wondering why it had been so important for me to try this naturally, when there's a perfectly good drug for the pain. After all, thousands, probably millions of healthy babies are born every day to women with epidurals. What am I, crazy?? And so it was, my first words in over 2 hours were, "I want an epidural," at 2:30 pm and 5 ½ centimeters dilated.

Nurse Shannon said cheerfully, "We'll have you completely comfortable in half an hour." My internal response, "Half an hour! No, NOW! I've decided, and I don't want to have any more of these contraction things." I don't remember the anesthesiologist's name, but let's just call him the angel of labor. When he showed up with his cart, god bless'im, he rushed through the explanation of the risks of an epidural. He said I'd feel a pinch and a sting when they inserted the needle and tube. Let me tell you, before labor I was squeamish about the idea of a tube inserted into my spine, but at the time, I felt nothing but blessed relief that the pain would soon abate.
The contractions became bearable almost instantly, and the pain slowly ebbed to the point where I felt each contraction, but as a discomfort instead of the worst pain in my life. Everyone in the room was much cheerier and more laid back after that - Shannon, Billy, and Jason, not to mention myself. We went back to noting the contractions on the monitor with interest. I had to stay on my right side, because that seemed best for Jack's heart rate. Around 5 pm, Shannon checked on me again and announced that I was 10 centimeters dilated and it was time to push. Despite the epidural, I still had plenty of feeling to push effectively. Jason and Billy held my legs, though Billy had a little harder job, since I couldn't keep my right leg upright due to lying on my right side.

I began to push on Shannon's command, while she counted to 10 each time. After only a couple of pushes, Jason said he could see Jack's head full of hair already! We were all amazed at how fast it was going. We had to keep the pushing in sort of a holding pattern - pushing a little to keep him down there but not too much - so we could wait for the doctor. Shannon kept poking her head out in the hall asking if anyone had seen him and were they sure they had paged him? Finally, Dr. N showed up, and after just a few more pushes, Jack was born! I couldn't believe his squirmy little vernix-covered body actually came out of me and that he was really ours. Shannon exclaimed, "He's doing hook 'em horns!" and indeed he was, with his right hand. Jason cut the cord, and they laid him on my chest. I cuddled him, and he stopped crying. He was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. It was so amazing and surreal. I kept thinking it had to be a dream.

I was so busy marveling at our new son, I didn't even notice the delivery of the placenta,. I had a few minor tears, and it did pinch a little as Dr. N. sewed them. While they cleaned and measured Jack and someone went looking for a scale to weigh him, one of the nurses showed us the placenta and explained which parts were which - pretty cool. Jack weighed 6 pounds, 8 ounces (just as his momma predicted) and was 19 inches long. He was perfectly healthy. The journey of pregnancy had come to an end, and a new one of raising our child had begun.

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Email Lisa Taggart at lisat@yogayoga.com