The birth story of Michael David Jacobson

This is the birth story of Michael David Jacobson. Please be warned, this will be a graphic entry. Usually I try to sensor this kind of thing, but I really feel like I need to preserve this experience for several reasons. I need to remember exactly what I went through for the next time I have a baby so I don't deceive myself into thinking it went one way when it really didn't. I want my kids to know what it takes to have a baby, especially my girls, and also that there is more than one way to do something, and both ways of childbirth (at least for me) have pros and cons. But mostly I just feel like I need to have this experience recorded in a place where it can be preserved, and since I don't have a physical journal, this will have to suffice. If you think you may be uncomfortable reading about my birth experience, please don't continue. If you're offended, I don't care. :) And if you think I should be strongly pro natural verses medicated labor or vise versa, I'm not and I won't be so don't be offended. It's just the way it is.

A little background into my choice of going for a natural delivery. First of all, it was not "all natural" because I chose to be induced 5 days early instead of waiting for the baby to come on his own time or even on my due date. This happened for several reasons. First, my doctor was going to be gone on my due date, leaving actually a few days before hand, so if I wanted to deliver with him I was going to have to go in early anyway or hope the baby came in time. Second, I had progressed so quickly with Eloise that my doctor strongly recommended induction to prevent an unplanned home birth. And lastly, I chose to be induced 5 days early because I wanted the baby out and in my arms and I knew it would not take much to accomplish this in the hospital and all my at home remedies had proved fruitless thus far. For example, I was attending aerobics 3 times a week, walking miles (literally miles) every day while pushing a stroller, I went running once (as much as a 39 week pregnant woman can run, which was about 7 minutes total with about 20 minutes of walking interspersed in there), engaging in heavy lifting of children and lots and lots of house work (I canned peaches and tomatoes a few days before everything happened, moved furniture, and cleaned, cleaned, cleaned) all to no avail. So I made an appointment to be induced. I was induced with Eloise and was pleasantly surprised with the results of her coming a week early in 4 hours total, so I had no qualms about doing it again. Eloise's birth is what started me thinking about having a natural child birth. With Eloise I labored for 3 hours quite comfortably in the hospital before they broke my water. When that happened I immediately started to transition and went from a 5 to a 10 in about 20 minutes. I had an epidural in the middle of this and pushed Eloise out in about 3 pushes with a smile on my face. After this experience I figured it had been silly of me to get an epidural since I only had 20 minutes left to go. I thought I would try and make it all the way next time since I was managing the pain so well for all the rest of the labor. I have also had a lot of people I know, or people I know indirectly, have natural deliveries who have claimed they were much better experiences for them than medicated deliveries. Since my medicated deliveries were so wonderful, I was very curious to know what all the fuss was about. But don't get me wrong, I was not going into this blind or naive. I knew that I would experience a new level of pain. I knew it would be very very hard. I knew I had to be prepared with relaxation techniques and breathing techniques and a supportive spouse or I would never make it through. I prepared all these things to a level I thought was adequate, but I also had the firm back up plan or accepting medication if I got to the point where I couldn't handle it any more. I was not going to feel bad if I got to that point either. This was not a competition with any other woman or with the ideals of one school of thought or another. Something deep inside me said, I think I can do this and I want to try for myself. I just needed to know.

And now on to the story.

I checked into the hospital about 6:30 am. My nurse Sherry was a woman who had delivered 7 children, some natural, and was now the proud grandma of over 20 grandchildren. This made me feel a lot better about the situation because I knew she knew what I was going to go through. I know all nurses would have known what I was going through, but Sherry turned out to be a life saver late in the last part of the labor. I had talked to Dr. Baxter about breaking my water to start labor, which he was willing to do, but he wouldn't be in until 8:30 to do so. I decided I wanted to get the show on the road so I accepted an IV with a pitocin drip. Sherry checked me right before we started and was surprised that I was at 5 cm upon check in. I was not. I had been in "labor" for about 3 weeks prior without going into real labor and I was extremely frustrated. I had so many "I think this is it!" moments with nothing to show for it that it was ridiculous. We got all the paper work settled, the IV in, and then about 8:00 am is when we got underway. Iit took about 5 minutes of pitocin before the contractions started and were immediately regular and strong. Yeah, I was so ready it was silly, and yet I was still holding on. Anyway, Dr. Baxter came in at 8:30 and broke my water. Things started to really pick up after that. The contractions changed to being low in my abdomen and very sharp. I remembered this feeling from Eloise's labor and so I breathed through them and focused on the pain as a way towards a goal. We were going to work together, this pain and I, to bring my son into the world, and I could handle that as long as the end result was this blessing. I told Doug that I likened labor pains to weight lifting. It hurts, sometimes really badly, but the pain abates and comes back in waves (like doing sets) and accomplishes a bigger goal than just causing pain. My contractions came regularly, 2 minutes apart decreasing to every minute to minute an a half towards the end. Sherry came in and out to check me and gave me firm instructions to come get her if I felt anything changing in my contractions or if I felt the urge to push in any way. She had this feeling I would come quickly when the time came, and she was right. Doug was there by the bed, giving me encouragement when I needed it and silence to work through the contractions on my own. He kept tabs on the monitor and would relay to me how strong the contractions were. I thought this was kind of funny since I knew exactly how strong the were.... strong and painful. But it was a good way to keep him informed and involved. One time while Sherry was out of the room the monitor began to have something typed after the contraction. It was Sherry in the hallway keeping notes on how things were progressing. It said something like "Patient managing pain with breathing techniques, partner giving support." Doug thought that was pretty funny. Since we also had access to a keyboard in the room he wanted to write back "Partner just called a bastard by patient. Backup needed!" I thought it was funny, even if it came in the middle of one of my contractions. What followed then was a time of contractions, breathing, and waiting. It seemed longer to me at the time than it really was. I still handled the pain fine, even managed to crack a few jokes here and there. Finally I felt something change in my contractions. The nurse checked me and I was at a 6 cm. I was rather confused since I figured I'd be farther by now...I don't know why since I started at a 5 cm and it had only been a little over and hour. Things progressed quickly from there though. I hit 7cm a few minutes later with little problem. Doug and I continued to work through my breathing, though I began to feel light headed towards the end of my contractions from panting and trying to control the pain. Sherry threw me a new breathing tip, which I started using immediately and which helped a lot. Score one for Sherry since I thought I was either going to black out of throw up, neither which happened thank goodness. The contractions were the most painful yet and I was having a harder time working with the pain. I looked down at my feet or closed my eyes and didn't talk much anymore. I sat straight up in bed and concentrated because I felt instinctively that that would be better for me than trying to move around. I didn't want distractions, I needed to concentrate. Doug held my hand and pulsed my hand in time to my breathing to help me focus. I was tempted to cry out or moan loudly or something like that, but I knew if I did that I would lose all control that I had. Some people I know say that it helps to just go with that, to let out those feelings, but I am not that way. If I was going to get through this, I know I had to be in control, using the pain towards a goal. If I let it take over me, all would be lost. My legs started to shake with each contraction because of the pain, but I held on. Things progressed more until I was checked at 8 cm... and then everything broke lose. Sherry had decided to stay in the room and check me every contraction, and when the last check measured and 8 she stepped out to make sure everything was ready for me. It was almost the next contraction when I said "WHOA!!! I gotta push!" Sherry said "Don't push yet!" and ran out into the hallway, and ran in with Dr. Baxter and the heart specialists and everyone started getting ready to go. It was rather amazing to watch in an abstract way. They were pretty darn fast considering my contractions were less than two minutes apart.

I need to digress now into some of the things I was feeling and thinking inside me rather than what was happening around me because I feel like that is more important to remember than what the doctors did. That moment I felt the need to push was like nothing I had ever experienced in my life. It was an urge so strong, so powerful that when Sherry said don't push, I almost laughed! I knew why I shouldn't push because I needed those people in there to catch the baby and do their jobs and such, but I didn't know how not to push. Literally the only thing in my mind was "This baby is coming out now." When Sherry ran back in and Dr. Baxter was suiting up, I got another contraction. Sherry saved me again my throwing out another breathing technique. It was one I had learned, but in the moment I had forgotten it. It got me through. Finally (although it was probably no more than 2 minutes) Dr. Baxter gave me the green light to push. Doug and Sherry held up my legs out of the stirrups (Sherry's idea again, that's three times now she saved me) to help with the pushing position. That's when I felt it. Women have talked about the "ring of fire" you feel when you push the baby's head out. I thought it was just a burning sensation as the baby stretched you. It's so much more than that. I could see in my mind's eye a burning ring that I was certain was the exact size of the baby's head so clearly I thought it was right in front of me. It was all I could feel. At that point it even eclipsed the desire to push, so I had to bear down and make myself push. It was harder to do than it had been with the girls. With them and the epidural I just knew I was supposed to push a certain way, so I did. This time all I knew was that I had to push HARD against that fire. I remember sobbing and moaning with the pain, but it wasn't because I was hurt. It was a weird experience. I knew I was hurting, but I wasn't hurt necessarily, but I could not control the sounds coming out of me. Part of me felt like I should, like I should be more dignified, but that part of me was squelched as more sensations kept coming. I was never scared, even in the hardest part. I knew it had to happen, I knew it would be over soon, and I knew that no matter what, I couldn't back out now. The only way left was forward. So I pushed. One contraction. The head came out. The next contraction Dr. Baxter tried to tell me to slow down and not push as much, but I was so far gone I couldn't control my pushing. That's when the shoulders popped out, and that's when I tore. If I had been in control of the pushing I could have made it through the whole ordeal with minimal to no tearing. I felt the baby come out, felt the tearing, felt the relief of my body relaxing because I didn't need to push anymore. And then Dr. Baxter held up my son. He was goopy and completely gray with a grimace on his face like "what just happened to me?" but completely perfect. I took shaky sobbing breaths and watched him go over to the heart and breathing specialists to get checked out. Dr. Baxter delivered my placenta a few minutes later, and after that happened I felt instant relief of all my major muscle tension. I felt so much better because my body had done what it needed to do. Dr. Baxter numbed me and stitched me up, which still hurt like the dickens in it's own unique way. I could feel the stitches going in and see the needle, but what really hurt was him wiping up the blood with gauze so he could finish his work. I almost kicked him in the face a few times for that. After that my baby was clean and weighed at a smallish 7lbs 4 oz (smallest of all my kids: Evelynn was 8 lbs 10 oz and Eloise was 7 lbs 13 oz) pronounced fit and I got to hold him. He was squashed and still pale because he was coated with vernix, but I loved him, instantly. Here was my son. I only had to go through two hours of labor to get him, but it was the most intense, painful and scary thing I had ever done. I did it by choice, and I learned a lot about myself through it, but the most important thing then was that he was there, in my arms.

So what did I learn about myself and what did I take from this experience?

I learned that I can do hard things. I learned that I never knew what the definition of pain was, or that what my body can do even under stress is amazing. I learned that child birth is hard. That may seem like a "well duh" statement, but it's true. With two epidurals under my belt I had considered child birth as a "Well, whatever. The baby comes," kind of experience. I learned that I only had about 4/5ths of the knowledge I needed to make my natural child birthing experience a complete success. I did not know what to do when it came down to the very end. Sherry saved me in many ways, but I could not "save" myself from tearing like I did, and I was the only one with the power to do so. When Dr. Baxter told me not to push hard, I did anyway. I tore. It was my mistake. You might say "well, she couldn't control herself!" That's true, I couldn't. But I could have if I had been more prepared. I know I could have. I also learned that trying to have a baby start to finish in under two hours is definitely a baptism by fire type of ordeal. It seemed long at the time, but looking back I was in labor for about 10 minutes and transitioning/birthing for the rest of the time. There was no work up to the transition phase for me. It started almost immediately, and for those of you who have had a natural delivery before, that is the hardest part of the labor!

This next part of my experience is going to make some of you readers who firmly believe in natural child birth upset, but that's ok because I'm going to say in anyway. I have learned that natural child birth is not for everyone. Yes, every woman can do it because we are hardwired to do it, but I don't believe that every woman should do it. I also would not council a woman who was not 200% committed to the idea of natural child birth to go that route with their first child. First labors are longer, harder, more exhausting experiences, and if you are one of those unlucky woman who have a hard labor even with medicine, maybe natural is not the way to go. With my first I was in labor for less than 10 hours, but I had an epidural for almost 7 of it. I would not have changed that. It took away my fear, it made me enjoy the labor experience, it let me focus on pushing the baby out without fear and slowly enough so I did not tear as badly as I could have. I was rested and ready to enjoy my baby right after delivery. That being said, all women should educate themselves and find a doctor who will work for them and conform to what they want, since technically we employ them and they should listen to us.

I don't know if I will do a natural child birth again for a number of reasons. It's not because I can't handle it, because obviously I can. It's not because I feel one way is better than another way. Mostly it's because I think there was a reason God allowed medicine to be made, and that was to help people. My labor was short and intense. I don't know what would have happened if something had gone wrong, or if I had gone into labor outside of the hospital. It would have been really hard. Dr. Baxter had recommended induction for me just because my labor was so short last time, and he'll probably always recommend it to me as long as he's my doctor because it was half again as short this time. Bottom line, I thought labor was easier without the pain, and I liked that. We'll see what happens next time, but doing natural child birth once has not sold me on the notion. I can see why things like birthing tubs, duals, and other such things women employ to ease natural child birth would be desirable and helpful, but it's not for me. I think my body works too fast for that. So there's my story and my opinion. In the future I hope to go back and read this to aid in my decision making process for the next birth. For anyone who reads this, please don't take my opinions personally, they are not meant to be judgmental or condescending of any one's way of thinking. Every woman needs to find her own path in bearing children. This entry is to remind me of the path I once chose to decide if I want to go down that road again. In the end it was all the same for me--I have three wonderful children who are happy and healthy and who I love with all my heart, and I think that's the most important thing.