The Birth Story

I don't do "birth plans".  I did that with the first baby and not one single thing went according to the plan.  I was disappointed.  For example, the very first thing on my birth plan was "feel no pain", and I ended up with a natural childbirth.  So after that I just decided I'd roll with it and whatever happened was just fine with me.  That is a much better plan as far as I'm concerned.  And it has served me well with each delivery.

I had a bad feeling about this birth, and I think it was because the pregnancy was so tough on me.  I had a very frank and honest doctor that kept me in line throughout and left me no room for slacking.  He didn't sugar coat anything, including the delivery.  

1.  Your body is going to take twice as long to recover, because you are OLD.

2.  Your abs will never, EVER be the same, because you are OLD.

3.  Your labor is going to be different this time, because you are OLD.

4.  You will probably need to be cut and will most likely tear this time, because your skin is more fragile, less elastic, and OLD.  (I did not tear or need to be cut with Jack, and his head was HUGE).

5.  You can't gain more than 25 pounds with this one, because you can't afford to have a big huge baby with your OLD skin.

You see the theme here, right?

I despised that doctor, but kept him around because I knew he was right.  He was an older guy that had been practicing for over 30 years.  He was wise.  And boy I'm glad I did, because he was right on the money about every single thing he preached at me the past nine months.  Generally speaking, my labors are quick, and the deliveries fairly easy.  With Jackson, I was only at the hospital for two hours before I delivered.  No problems, easy day.  So although I had been warned by the doctor, I was secretly hoping he was wrong and that I would skate off just as easy this time as the last.  Ha.  Not so much.

My water broke at 8:25 in the morning on the 25th, and Jacoby entered the world at 5:17 PM.  My longest labor ever.  

He induced me at 28 weeks because he didn't want the baby to be big, and mostly because he wanted me to be monitored the entire time.  We were hoping for under 8 pounds, and he squeaked in right under that mark.  I gained exactly 25 pounds, just like the doctor ordered.  Here is a before-shot of me on the way to the hospital.

The plan was to induce my labor with pitocin and have a baby.  And I was fine with that, until they sent the anesthesiologist in to start my epidural.  The epidural that I did not want.  I know I said that I have no birth plan, and I truly don't.  If I NEED the epidural, I will ask for it.  I'm not one of those women that think natural childbirth is an olympic sport that I have to medal in.  Sure, I've done it, but because I could handle it.  Not because it makes me more awesome than the lady next door that decided to use medication.  If I don't think I can handle it, I have no qualms asking for drugs.  But I certainly don't want drugs before labor even starts!  So I said NO.  And they said FINE.  No pitocin for you.  WHAT?  You've GOT to be kidding me.  I'm not happy.  I seriously cry.  I want the pitocin, I want to be in labor for real.  I do NOT want to sit here waiting for the contractions to start on their own.  I'm on a timeline.  Justice can't miss school, he has state testing.  Shandi only has two days off work and I DON'T HAVE TIME TO WAIT FOR THE STUPID CONTRACTIONS TO START ON THEIR OWN!  So after Joe talked me off the ledge, the anesthesiologist came back with the nurse, and we made a deal.  He would just insert the line for the epidural, but provide no medication unless I asked for it.  YAY!  Win!  And in hindsight, I'm glad it went down that way, because I asked for about 20 minutes of pain relief at around 7 centimeters or I wouldn't have made it.  The anesthesiologist understood my need for having as natural childbirth as possible and his magic 20 minutes of relief gave me the energy I needed to get that baby delivered out of this OLD body.

Labor was rough and by far my hardest out of all the kids.  My contractions were all over the place, I dilated to 6 very quickly then got stuck there for hours.  I never dilated fully to 10 and they had to "STRETCH" my cervix manually to get his head out.  When I went to push, they discovered he was facing the wrong direction (face up instead of down), and the doctor had to stick his arm up there and manually TURN HIM OVER.  Good thing for me I'm a champion pusher though, because it took about three minutes and three hard pushes to get him out.  Sort of.  His cord was wrapped around his neck so tightly that there wasn't enough cord length to get him out all the way.  So the doctor had to reach BACK INSIDE and unwrap the cord while he was still in the birth canal.  And that's when my fragile, non-elastic and OLD skin tore.  Ugh.

But who cares when you hear that baby scream at the top of his lungs?  Not I.  The only birth plan I need is one that says "Deliver a baby".  At the end of the day, none of the rest matters.

I do want to talk about The Coach for a minute though.  Why?  Because he is AWESOME.  He takes his role as labor coach the same as he does every other "sport" he coaches.  VERY seriously.  He has a binder.  And support equipment.  And he gets me through labor like the coach that he is.  I'M SO THANKFUL to have him in the delivery room with me.  This time he was really challenged and it didn't even phase him.  He had an answer, remedy, plan or tactic for everything thrown at me during this labor and there is NO WAY I could have done it sanely and coherently without him.  The nurses were so impressed with him that one of them told him he could be a doula.  They repeatedly told me what a great job he did and how fortunate I was to have him for my coach.  

I know this, and I am very thankful.