Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Monday, April 12th, 6:00 am

6:00 am still in labor - so tired, just want to go to sleep but hurts so bad.” I lasted less than 5 hours in bed, and then I was ready to be laboring in a new position, new place. From Saturday night through the time I delivered on Monday afternoon I spent a total of 15 hours in bed trying to sleep, all but 3 of it while I endured contractions spaced 10 minutes apart or less. I was absolutely exhausted by this point. I knelt on some pillows on the floor with my top half draped over the couch cushions, chux pad underneath my pelvis so I could pee at will. Before labor began I imagined I would really like laboring on the toilet, but I actually hated the position and avoided it whenever I could. I had no shame and laid down chux pads all over the apartment, allowing myself to relax and let things flow whenever I felt the urge as an empty bladder was much more comfortable. I tried to keep singing, but by this point my throat was a bit raw and so I started with the buzzing horse lips. Ina May recommends this laboring technique as she posits that focusing on relaxing one bodily orifice helps to relax all of the others. Whenever the contractions came I buzzed and buzzed and buzzed some more, straight through until I started pushing.

Monday, April 12th, 8:45 am

“8:45 am Sarah is coming in 20 mins - yea- Pain. Not liking this. Come out baby. Sorry I provided such a nice house for you that you don’t want to leave it.” (Side note: I’m sure anyone who knows my mom well is laughing so hard over that last note, it sounds exactly like her.) I felt like we had been calling Sarah over and over, each time hearing the same response “No, I don’t think it’s time for me to come yet” which I found to be so discouraging. When I would I finally be in real labor? Just before 9:00 am they called her again (I was past the “using the telephone stage”. Actually I was past all stages except buzzing lips and trying to sleep between contractions.), and she listened to how I was breathing and enduring the contractions and said she was coming over. I’d been waiting to hear that news for hours by that point.

“8:50 am closer together and harder, ouch.”

“9:00 am I don’t want to do this anymore. I’m so tired.”

Monday, April 12th, 9:00 am

“9:10 am Shay is on webcam and Dad just called. Jenna said ‘This baby better be really cute.’ I hurt and I don’t want to talk anymore. Bye dad.”

Everything that happened from around 5:30 am to about 10:00 am is a bit of a blur of moaning, horse lips, leaning over the couch, and pacing the apartment. TH stayed with me the entire time, my mom woke up somewhere around 6, and Kelli woke up and started taking pictures just before 8:45 am. I started trying some different positions for laboring, including throwing a towel over a door frame and hanging down from it. It sort of felt okay, but I remember spending most of my time simply leaning over the kitchen counter while TH applied pressure to my lower back. He was sore for days afterward because I kept telling him to push harder. I wasn’t experiencing any back labor, I think the strong pressure from him felt so good because it distracted me from the pain in my belly. All I wanted though, was to get in the tub, something I believe Sarah had discouraged a little bit because she thought things would progress better if I labored standing up. We weren’t tracking how far apart my contractions were or how long they were lasting at this point because there was no longer any need. I don’t think anyone doubted that this was the real deal.

I read a few myself and then Kelli spent some time reading the messages to me from the Mother’s Blessing blog that Evelyn put together for me. What a beautiful experience it was to be told over and over that I have acted as an inspiration, that I am powerful and strong, that I really would make it through. I was able to draw strength from these messages and they will be something I continually treasure and refer back to during my labor experiences throughout the coming years.

Monday, April 12th, 9:30 am

“9:35 am Please let me get in the pool. Ahhhh. The water feels so good.”

It had been a considerable amount of time since I last ate, and Sarah urged me to try to get some protein down. I managed to choke down some peanut butter with… you guessed it, banana! On any other day I really only like bananas a normal amount, but during my labor they were what I kept turning to. I said from the beginning that one reason I didn’t want to give birth in a hospital was that I wanted to be able to eat and drink when I wanted, and although at this point I didn’t really want to be eating/drinking due to the fatigue, I was glad I was in an environment where doing so was encouraged rather than forbidden. Even though I only ate a few bites, I really felt like it upped my endurance.

Monday, April 12th, 9:50 am

“9:50 am Sarah arrived. Va=jay-jay check. Not fun. Have to breathe through contractions. I am at an 8! Wow, Sarah is so happy.” Yes, you read that right, when my midwife arrived I was already dilated to 8 centimeters. (If you scroll up and look at the quotes from my labor notebook, I’m guessing I was transitioning around 9:00 am). Of course I didn’t know how far I was dilated at the time because I was very committed to the idea of not being told how far along I was during my labor, ever. I knew from reading countless birth stories that my body would let me know when it was time to push, and I didn’t want to be told I was X centimeters dilated and then be frustrated if I were to be checked again and not progress. I was also very adamant about having the least amount of vaginal exams possible, even considering while pregnant that I might want to deny all of Sarah’s attempts to do so, but now I am glad she ended up doing three exams total because it helped her better understand what she needed to do and when. I remember after she checked that everyone spent a lot of time whispering to one another but I tried not to analyze what it might meant. Were they talking about how I might need to transfer to a hospital because labor was progressing so slowly? Either way, all I could do was keep riding through each contraction wave, hoping my body would keep working to get baby out. Though the exams were uncomfortable, they weren’t as bad as I imagined. I mostly despised them because she made me get out of the tub to do them. I really, really loved being in the water.

Sarah’s arrival was a real turning point for me emotionally. I didn’t realize what a difference her presence would make for me, but when she walked through the door I was so relieved. Her arrival meant I was really in the throes of things, and that I must be getting closer. She had waited so long to come, telling me so many times that I needed to either take a bath to try to relax or get up and move around to speed things up, but there she was walking through the door, looking down at me in the birth pool and telling me what a great job I was doing. She spent a lot of time coaching me through my vocalizations/buzzing, encouraging me to go a bit lower in pitch. It was tough to remember to do it but it made a difference.

Monday, April 12th, 10:00 am

“10:00 am Back in pool. So glad Sarah is here. I like Sarah. BP 113/80″ As soon as she woke up my sister was back on the webcam again. Was my brother-in-law watching as well? Who knows. By this point in my labor I didn’t care who was watching me or what I was wearing when they were watching. It was all about getting through each surge and relaxing as much as possible. Unfortunately I started relaxing so much between contractions that my head started to slip underneath the water, worrying my support team a bit. My mom found a strip of fabric and constructed a small hammock type thing for me to rest my head on. I insisted on keeping a metal bowl floating next to me in the water for several hours that morning because I so badly felt like I needed to throw up, although I never did end up doing so. I spent most of my time laboring in the tub resting on my back, rolling my body from side to side with each contraction. I tried laboring on my knees or hanging over the side of the tub, but those didn’t feel as comfortable and I always ended up migrating back to resting my head in the little hammock.

“10:15 am Contractions, contractions, contractions. No more singing, just breathing and chanting. Doing really well! Calm, sleepy, in control.”

I believe it was somewhere around this point when I had a few of the “endless contractions”, as I like to think of them. Though I may be mistaken as I was rather out of it, I think I experienced a few 15-20 minute periods where the breaks between contractions disappeared. I waited and waited, but nope, the pain was still going. And going. And going. Other than the pushing stage, those times were the worst I experienced during my labor. I so badly needed a break, giving me some time to mentally prepare for the next wave, but the rest I craved was nowhere to be found.

“10:30 am Mom is busy texting family and friends to keep them updated. Grandma L is so worried. Dad is rushing back to the office to get on the webcam. Shay has been on the webcam since 6:30 am this morning, what a trooper.”

Monday, April 12th, 11:00 am

“11:30 am Contractions hard and deep - still in pool - sleeping between contractions. TH is in the pool with me. I like to be elevated and laying on him. Have to get out soon - I like it in here.” That Husband put on his swim trunks and hopped in the birth tub with me for the first time, pretending like I hadn’t earlier confessed to the entire room that I had peed in that very water many, many, many times by this point. He sat on the little stool on one end while I sort of stretched out on top of him. I liked having him in there with me not only for the emotional support, but because his lower body boosted mine up out of the water a bit which felt nice. Also it kept me from choking on pee infested water when I was resting. I buzzed and buzzed my lips and sometimes spit all over him when I turned my face toward his, but he didn’t let on if he minded. It meant so much to have him there with me, hand resting on my belly, words of comfort being whispered in my ear.

Monday, April 12th, 11:35 am

“11:35 am Out of pool and mucus plug just came out. “It is so delicious.” Sarah is pushing on my back, it helps. Going to the bathroom.” If you’re wondering, I have no idea what the “delicious” comment was referring to. Remember how exhausted I was? I’m sure there were several crazy sentences coming out of my mouth that morning. They helped me out of the tub and into my bathrobe (the new expensive one I love that my mom gave me for Christmas) and I remember saying “But what if it gets dirty or gets blood on it, I love this bathrobe.” Everyone assured me that all would be well, and sweet TH told me we could just buy another if necessary. Sarah encouraged me to spend some time laboring on the toilet, which I hated, although it was probably smart to stop adding urine to the birth tub.

Monday, April 12th, 11:50 am

11:50 am 9 cm, yea! On the ball now.” Vag exam #2 of 3 let all except me know it had taken me 2 hours to dilate from an 8 to a 9. This is why I didn’t want to be told because I’m positive I would have been discouraged by that progress, wondering if it was going to take me another two hours to complete (haha, it so did!). Sarah felt that the head wasn’t progressing like it probably should and told me it was time to take a break from the tub and let gravity help things along. I chose to bounce on the birth ball as I didn’t want to go near the toilet again and I was far too tired to support myself while standing or walking for more than a few minutes at a time.

12:20 pm Rocking on the ball. TH holding hand and mom is fixing my hair (yes I asked her to). Kelli is photographing. Sarah and Angela are waiting.” I was told by several different people that I should have someone french braid my hair early in the labor, and I foolishly didn’t listen. I won’t be making that mistake again, as ignoring their advice caused me to beg my mom to do something with my hair at 9 cm dilated, a very difficult thing for both of us. When you see the results of her efforts you may laugh, as it looks rather ridiculous, but I’m grateful she did what she could because she didn’t have much time to work her magic (she’s actually quite good at styling hair). Contractions were coming pretty quickly at this point and so she’d work for a few minutes until I held up my hand indicating she needed to stop, my horse lips would start buzzing, and she wouldn’t start trying to style again until the contraction had ceased completely. Next time, a french braid it is.

I labored on the ball for an hour, and then, not even joking, I made my way to the bathroom and used the blowdryer in an attempt to fix my kiddie bangs (remember how I went crazy and cut my wispies at 5 months pregnant?) and *gasp* even took the time to pick at the zits on my face. I’m the type of person who likes to try to look good in an attempt to feel good and spending some time in front of the mirror was just what I needed at that point. Or maybe it was my body trying to tell me “Hey, you’re going to be pushing this baby out in an hour and Kelli is going to be taking lots of photos, try to spruce up a bit will you?”

Monday, April 12th, 1:00 pm

1:04 pm Sarah broke water w/hook. Sack was so tough. Fetal heart rate at 132, good job baby. Sarah could feel the head.” During my third and final vaginal exam Sarah recommended that we break my water artificially, the sole intervention I would experience during my labor. I asked her what she felt the pros and cons were, and what she thought might happen if we decided not to do so. She said that the baby’s head wasn’t descending as expected and that breaking my water would likely encourage him/her to move down the birth canal. After talking things over we told her go go ahead and do it, and we all agree now that it was the best thing to do at the time. She later told us that she woke up that morning thinking to herself “I think I’m going to have to rupture Jenna’s membranes today”, which she said was odd because it’s not an intervention that she does very often. She tried to break it with her fingers alone, but said the sac was too tough to do the task without the crochet hook type tool that is commonly used. As the amniotic fluid gushed out it felt warm and I was surprised at how much came out. I didn’t have to worry about leaking all over the apartment because as soon as my membranes were ruptured I climbed right back into the tub again.

1:15 pm Arnica was given to help with swelling. Back in tub. More pressure.” Sarah kept putting arnica tablets under my tongue to help with swelling (I believe this is thought to help with swelling of the cervical lip that can occur). My mom’s note about pressure indicates that it was around this time that I started to grunt during my buzzing spells. This is the one time when not knowing where I was in terms of cervical dilation worked against me a little bit because having never experienced the “pressure” that indicates baby is ready, I now think I could have delivered a bit sooner if I had surrendered to that pressure a bit more. Instead I attempted to keep buzzing, feeling a bit timid about asking Sarah if the feeling I was having might indicate it was time to start pushing. I didn’t want to ask because I was worried they would tell me I wasn’t even close, and how depressing would that be? I had heard many women describe the need to push as something similar to a desire to have a bowel movement, but I’m not sure I would describe it that way for me. I can’t come up with a better description than pressure, and lots of it, forcing me to move to a “heh heh heh” type of breathing. With my next baby I’ll be working harder to surrender to that pressure as soon as I start feeling it, which should be easier now that I know what I’ll be watching out for.

Monday, April 12th, 1:25 pm

Sarah wanted me to eat again and TH handed me what was quite possibly the best protein bar I’ve ever tasted (my mom had brought them down with her). Trying to get each bite chewed up and swallowed before the next contraction wasn’t very fun, but I remember how delicious each bite was. So good that I ended up asking for another when we were camped out in bed holding our new baby after the delivery. The photos show that I wasn’t the only one having a snack at this point, several hours had passed with everyone just kind of waiting around and I’m guessing they were all feeling like lunch was a good idea. I’m pretty sure that throughout the labor TH managed to eat and sleep even less than I did, as it seemed to me he was always consumed with warming the birth tub water or holding my hand or attending to some other task. We both had some recovering to do once the postnatal period began.

1:35 Baby heart rate 140. J is doing really well. Handling the pain well with bubbly humming sound through her lips. Impressive pain tolerance.” If there is anything at all that will carry me through my next labor, it is the pronouncement from my mother that she believes I have a high pain tolerance. I suspected I might, and TH has long believed that to be true, but I was always hesitant about branding myself as someone who handles pain well. There is a point during my pushing stage though, when I can hear Sarah saying on the video “Jenna, you are handling this labor better than most mothers I’ve seen”, and all of the women in the room agreed. Whether it was just something to say to make me keep going, or they really believed it, from this point forward I will be approaching childbirth with the attitude that I am really good at delivering babies. I’ve long believed that the bodies of women are built for pregnancy and labor, but now I feel like I have evidence that mine in particular is really, really good at it.

Monday, April 12th, 2:00 pm

I started to notice a slight increase in the activity going on around me. Sarah and her assistant were moving their supplies closer, my mom was at my side holding a cool towel to my forehead, and Kelli was zooming around taking pictures at a pretty rapid pace. Could it be? Was it really that time?

I managed to speak up enough to say, “Sarah, I think it feels like I’m ready to start pushing.”

“You just do what your body tells you,” she replied.

It was time.

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