I had prepared myself for another long labor. After the two- day ordeal of my son’s birth, the best I dared hope for was a labor half as long. So when my husband, Jacob and I decided to birth our second baby at the Birth and Woman’s Center in Topeka, KS I was never really worried about the three hour drive Jacob would have to make once I had gone into labor. Surely he’d have enough time to get there… It was a small risk we were willing to take to have the out-of-hospital birth we both wanted. After my son’s homebirth I could hardly imagine going to the hospital to have a baby!
Jacob’s mom (Also named Rebecca!) lives in Topeka. My son (Jacob Jr. Yes, there are two Jacobs and two Rebeccas in this story.) and I drove down from our home in Omaha, NE to stay with her ten days before my due date. The elder Jacob remained behind to continue the nine to five grind. Rebecca accommodated us by transforming her formal living room into a gorgeous bedroom suite for me. It was lovely, as though it had been furnished for a photo shoot with Southern Living magazine. I felt welcome, comfortable, and more than a little pampered.
The days in Kansas passed uneventfully and peacefully. Little Jacob and I enjoyed our time with family and soon found ourselves in a comfortable daily routine in our temporary home. I loved being pregnant and didn’t feel anxious to be rid of my enormous belly; I was just excited to meet my new baby and to find out whether a little boy or a little girl would join our family. I was encouraged by daily Braxton Hicks contractions and figured that was a good sign.
I was right. At my 40-week visit with my midwife she asked if I wanted to be checked. Sure, I thought. Why not? Much to my utter amazement it was discovered I was about four centimeters dilated and could easily stretch to five!!! I was on cloud nine! It had taken over 36 hours of labor to dilate that far when Jacob was born. I thought I had been having more Braxton Hicks than usual that morning.
Of course, I called Jacob the moment I stepped foot out of the birth center and excitedly told him the good news. Though the truth is, neither of us thought it meant the baby was right around the corner. I had heard of women walking around dilated like that for days, or even weeks with their second or subsequent pregnancies. I continued about the rest of my day excited but not presuming the onset of labor.
That being said, I continued to have Braxton Hicks all day. These contractions were very short and did not hurt even a little. I couldn’t even call them uncomfortable. I was having a few every hour, though. So, when I showed up at Little Jacob’s Great Grandma and Grandpa L.’s house for dinner that afternoon everyone was a little surprised when I announced, “I’m five centimeters dilated and having contractions!” I said it mostly for shock value, and I explained that I didn’t really think I was in labor. Plus, I said, “If I hadn’t come to dinner the contractions would have stopped!”
However, after having a wonderful evening visiting with Grandpa, Grandma, Uncle John, Cousin Amber, and her two precious son’s Sam and Isaac, I was pretty sure something was happening. I continued having painless, short, sporadic contractions through our visit and the whole forty-minute drive back from Grandpa and Grandma’s to my mother-in-law’s house.
When I called Jacob to say goodnight and give him a progress report he was pretty dubious that I was really close to labor. He thought I was in danger of playing head games with myself, and becoming exhausted with worry. He told me to go to bed and get some sleep. I told him to have a bag packed and be on high alert. Half of me totally expected to go to bed and wake up in the middle of the night in labor. The other half was less certain…
I fell asleep about ten o’ clock that night but sleep didn’t last long. At about twelve thirty I woke up having very mild short contractions. They really weren’t uncomfortable, and with Baby Jacob’s labor in mind I forced myself to go back to sleep. “Rest.” I told myself, “Rest while you can.” And I did. I slept off and on for several hours. I kept waking up to pee, and I just kept having annoying contractions. Not enough to hurt but enough to keep me from sleeping soundly. I was bummed at the thought of how tired I would be in the morning, and thought about calling Little Jacob’s Grandpa and Grandma W. to ask them to watch him so I could nap the next day. I thought the way things were going I wouldn’t have a baby for at least two more days! Ha!
At about four o’ clock in the morning I couldn’t sleep through the contractions any longer. But, they still didn’t hurt. I timed them for a little while, they were very short (under twenty seconds) and they came about every seven to ten minutes. I contemplated calling Jacob, but thought better of it. I’d call him in a couple hours and tell him how things were going. I wanted him to get a good night’s sleep.
At five in the morning Little Jacob woke up and started crying. As I walked upstairs to get him out of his portable crib I was hit with the first painful contraction. Oh man, I thought, I had better call my hubby. By the time Little Jacob had a diaper change, a sippy cup of milk and was plugged into PBS Kids I had had several more painless albeit short contractions.
I called my Smoochy and told him how things were going. I was pretty sure I was in labor, but things were just getting going in my estimation. We finally decided that he would start getting around and that I would give him a call in an hour.
By that time, Rebecca was up and we were having our first cups of coffee together. After filling her in on the night’s events I confided that I was conflicted about whether Jacob should get on the road yet or not. He could only take five work days off, and I was very worried that he would waist a day on padromal labor that would be better be spent with an actually baby to enjoy. She suggested that maybe he should go into work and tie up his loose ends, and then I could call him back if things were truly progressing. That sounded like a plan to me.
About that time the coffee hit and I decided I needed to use the facilities. While I was doing my business I swear I felt myself dilating and sure enough there was bloody show as I wiped. I had been waiting all night for that! Then the contractions hit. While I was in the bathroom Jacob called back. I hollered from with in the bathroom, “Rebecca! Tell him he needs to come NOW!”
Rebecca made me scrambled eggs and toast to eat. I was struggling to get through the meal. Every time a contraction came I had to stand, walk, and moan. I was starting to feel pressure I couldn’t sit through. We decided to take showers and call the midwife. It was probably around six o’ clock at that point. Norla, my midwife, was already at the birth center for the day when I called and she said come on in when we were ready for a course of IV antibiotics (for Group B-Strep) and we could decide from there whether I’d stay or go home.
The contractions I had in the shower were really starting to demand my concentration. I moaned and rocked and let the water pelt me as each one hit. In between contractions I washed my hair and scrubbed up. Betsy, Jacobs little sister, was in the bathroom doing her hair and make-up for another day in the 9th grade. She looked at me a little worried through the clear plastic shower curtain and asked if there was anything she could do for me. “No Betsy, Thanks.” I swayed and moaned through a few more contractions.
Once out of the shower, I was really starting to feel spacey. I could hardly dress myself, much less lotion and groom they way I had planned. I heard Rebecca start her shower, and I prayed that she would be quick. I was starting to feel hot and panicy. Despite it being a chilly 68 degrees or so in the house I started to sweat. I started to pace. I started into transition… and I knew it!
I could feel so much pressure in my pelvis I thought I was going to burst. Literally. I had visions of my water breaking at any moment and the baby being born unassisted right there in my “bedroom”. I was terrified that I would never make it to the birth center to say nothing of Smoochy arriving in time. I was freaking out. It was at about that point (I think) that Patrick (Big Jacob’s 18 year old brother) stuck his head in the room and asked if I need anything. I snapped at him, “Pat, I love you but leave me alone!”
All I could think about was getting to the birth center. The contractions were hard and close together. All I could do was stay on my hands and knees and mooooan. Thank God Patrick and Betsy were there to take care of and entertain Little Jacob. They made sure he was dressed and fed that morning.
I heard Rebecca’s shower turn off and I breathed a sigh of relief. A few minutes later I heard her hair drier turn on and my head must have made several 360-degree turns on my neck as I screamed, “Rebecca, WE HAVE TO LEAVE NOW!!!” I heard Pat ascend the steps three at a time and relay to his mom that I had gone crazy (not exactly in those words!).
There was a great flurry of activity at that point. My family conferred on who would go to the birth center to take care of Little Jacob; they scurried to gather the food and bags we had prepared; and Betsy took Jacob out to load him in his car seat. I followed out behind them in my robe and slippers. Not exactly what I had planned on wearing that day. I got into the warming car to wait for Rebecca to come out, but as the contractions hit I got out and stood in the drive way rocking and moaning for what seamed an eternity as she locked-up and made her way out.
The drive to the birth center felt like five hours instead of the five minutes it actually took. I had three mega-contractions in rout, each compounding the pressure I was sitting on. It was miserable. Next baby, I hope we have the viable option of staying home. Car travel in labor is for the birds. Anyway, of course we got held up a red light waiting to turn left into the driveway of the birth center. I had a contraction at that exact moment and I think I told Rebecca and Betsy that I wanted to get out and walk the rest of the way. That might well have been the most painful moment of the whole experience.
What relief when we were at last parked and I left everyone behind to deal with Jacob and the bags. I pushed open the door to the birth center and was met by peace. Norla greeted me at the door and led me to the birth room (I have to mention here how AWSOME it was not to fill out papers, go through triage, or talk to strangers. I can’t imagine having to do those things in the sate I was in.)
Norla went right to the IV equipment to get me hooked up, and I went right for the birth ball and positioned myself up on the floor draped over it on my knees in the middle of the room. I was nervous about dealing with an IV and then saline lock in labor, but honestly the IV was over so quick, and the saline lock was forgotten as soon as it was in. I only wish I could say the same about the Thrush Georgia and I have dealt with for the last month as a result of those antibiotics! (*The thrush was awful. I can't remember how long it took us to get over it. 2 months?)
Anyway, once the IV antibiotics had been administered Norla suggested I move to the bed so that she could check my dilation. I had no fear (unlike during Jacob’s birth) that I would be checked and no progress made. I could just feel that things were oooopening. Sure enough, I was complete. I looked across the room at the lovely large Jacuzzi tub in the middle of the room and knew deep down I would never get into it now. But, I didn’t have time to think much about it before the next contraction rocked it’s way through me.
At some point during all of this Rebecca and Betsy made their way into the birth center with Little Jacob and all of our gear. Bless them they lugged in several bags worth of stuff that was never used: including my Ipod, scented massage oils, and hot rice socks. There was a large waiting/play room filled with toys and children’s books that connected to the birth room through a large set of French doors. Jacob played here peacefully through most of the birth. He did wander in and out of the birth room some to see what Mom was doing. Thankfully his Aunt Betsy was there to love, comfort, and entertain him. She was also my photographer, and I noticed several times that she had Jacob perched on one hip and was busy snapping photos with her free hand. She got some awesome shots!
I went through several more contractions on my hands and knees in the huge queen sized birthing bed as everyone got settled. At the end of each contraction I hade these low low groans. I remember at one point even sort of chanting the word “loooow” and “down baby, please!” And though I was complete and my body was obviously working the baby down and out I was not thinking about pushing. It just seemed too soon. So when Norla suggested I lay on my side I thought “Sure I’d love a rest!”
I however, was the only person who thought I would be getting a break. My birthing women knew better than I that we were cooking with gas. I was a little surprised that the contractions did not stop and that the two midwives (Norla had been joined at that point by Emily who was filling in for an absent nurse) and my mother-in-law coached me through my breathing at my body pushed along without me.
It wasn’t long before my waters popped and flooded the bed. Holy crap! I was so surprised. I’m sure my eyes nearly popped from my head. “Is the water clear?” I managed to ask. Yes, I was reassured they were. It started to really sink in that: Oh! The baby is coming NOW. I looked to Rebecca somewhat frantically and asked, “How far away is Jacob?” She exchanged a dubious look with the other women.
“He’s on his way…” she said.
“When?” I gasped
“He’s coming as quickly as he can.”
“Don’t give me that!” I snapped.
In my head I remember thinking: Come on! I’m a big girl just give me the freaking answer!
It was at this point that Norla gave me a pep talk about not holding back. Let the baby come when the baby was ready…
I knew then my husband was going to miss the birth.
Frankly, as much as I waned Jacob to witness the birth of his baby, I was in too much pain to purposefully prolong it. It was also about then I realized this was the time for action, not rest. I asked for help getting back on my hands and knees.
Once I was back on my hands and knees with the birth ball to collapse on between contractions I felt more comfortable. Or at least as comfortable as possible considering I had eight pounds of baby barreling through my vagina. I’m not sure how long I pushed in this position before she was finally born.
I remember squeezing the ever-loving-crap out of a latex gloved hand. I probably could have broken a finger or two. I remember being given cool sips of water through a straw. I remember the cool cloth the receptionist/child birth education teacher/insurance guru Kelly (working as doula) ☺ placed on my forehead. I remember snapping at my poor mother-in-law to “Stop toughing my hair!” She was just trying to move it off my face. Bless her patience and understanding! And I remember looking up to see my poor little son perched on Aunt Betsy’s hip whimpering in confusion and worry.
I had expected to feel powerful and in control while pushing as I had when Jacob was born. But, this was a different birth. It was so painful to bear down that I resisted quite a bit. The midwives kept urging me to tilt my pelvis down so that the baby could fit better through my bones, but that was utter agony. Finally, it occurred to me that if I started pushing in earnest I could get this over with faster.
So I pushed and pushed. It is such an awkward awful feeling, made worse by its resemblance to pooping. I thought for sure I was on the verge of taking a giant crap.
“No dear, that’s just the baby.”
As the baby started to crown my once low and controlled moans escalated to a high-pitched crazy-woman-scream. It was searing white heat. It was like being split open and I turned so far inside that everyone else was in a different world, on another plane. My eyes were squeezed shut. I made fists on my thighs and I PUSHED.
POP!
And release!
The most lusty startling squall filled the air.
From somewhere in the distance I heard Norla say, “Reach down and take your baby!”
I held in my hands the most amazing hot pink baby. Bright eyes looking straight into mine.
“You’re here!” I exclaimed in utter amazement.
The rest of the day was just pure joy. It was only 8:25 in the morning and we had the whole day ahead of us, to spend with this brand new sparkling little person.
I tried to call Jacob on the phone… but he was driving through a dead zone, somewhere in the fields of Kansas.
We delivered the placenta.
We settled in to nurse.
Introductions were made.
Jacob called me, and for the first time I started to cry, completely over come.
“We have a baby!” I exclaimed.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I don’t know. We haven’t looked yet. Hurry up and get here so we can find out!”
Some how none of us had seen or thought to check the sex of the baby, and in an instant I decided that we wouldn’t until Jacob arrived. We would discover together who had joined our family.
An hour later...
It was Georgia Elizabeth.
