Kim – We had all of nine months to prepare, and though we were nearly completely ready, we still hadn’t done the essential preparations like car seat installations, finishing packing the hospital bag, and selecting a pediatrician. However, on August 11, after my OB nicked my membranes in the hopes of kick starting labor and telling me to do everything I could (wives tales and all) to kick start labor because the baby might be getting too big for a smooth vaginal delivery, I called and told Geoff. Geoff Googled ‘nicking the membranes,’ and apparently, if it works, labor is kick started within 24 hours. Just to be extra safe, I went to get a foot massage at one of the ubiquitous foot massage parlors in the San Gabriel Valley. Roughly $20 for a one hour foot massage. Geoff emailed me a YouTube link about pressure points in the foot that were supposed to trigger labor. Armed with that YouTube video accessed from my phone, I asked the guy rubbing my leg to concentrate on the four points highlighted in the video (inside the ankle, on the pinky toenail, in the middle of the balls on the sole of the feet, and near the achilles tendon). With these procedures done, Geoff and I were kick started into final preparations to bring a baby home. It had hit us suddenly. Since I had no indications of labor or Braxton Hicks contractions to date, we thought the baby would come late. That night though, we thought, ‘Oh crap, we have to finish getting ready now. As in now, now.’ We frantically finished up our list of to do items and went to bed late.
Geoff – On Friday, August 12 (the baby’s due date), Kim woke at about 10 to 6 in the morning, and announced, “Um, Geoff, I think my water broke.” I’d been up late night the before, getting ready, and I was still groggy.
I jumped up, and said,”What? WHAT? Your water broke?!? OK. I’m going to turn on the lights. Everything is less scary in the light.”
We evaluated, and it was clear that, indeed, her water had broken. She wasn’t having much in the way of contractions, so we called the Doula (labor coach) and asked her what to do. She suggested that we head into the hospital, and get checked out. She said we didn’t need to rush, we could get breakfast, grab our things, etc, but that once the water had broken, the doctor would want to see a baby in 24 hours, especially because a GBS test had showed Kim would need antibiotics during labor. Holy cow. It felt very real.
I cooked a big breakfast, and we grabbed a few last minute things. Driving to the hospital was surreal. I knew, one way or another, that I’d be a dad shortly, and we’d be a family. Wild.
Kim – I love breakfast, but I could hardly eat. My water had broken, starting and stopping in spurts, so my main concern was getting to the hospital without looking like I had wet my pants. That would just be extra embarrassing.
Geoff – On the way into the hospital, Kim reminded me we should take one last belly photo, so we stopped briefly for that outside the gates of the hospital. We headed to the maternity ward, and after quickly checking in, we were admitted. Friday was a long day of mostly waiting. Kim was having contractions, uncomfortable, but not super super strong, and things weren’t moving fast. We did a lot of walking. Lots and lots and lots of walking. And then sitting and resting, then more walking.
Kim – At first, I didn’t even know they were contractions, they came on so mild. My main concern was that my water had broken, and I didn’t know whether or not labor had started because I didn’t feel any contractions. They hooked me up to a machine and confirmed I indeed did have contractions and I was 1.5 cm dilated – an improvement from 1 cm dilation at the doctor’s the previous day. As the day wore on, the contractions got stronger and stronger. They felt like intense menstrual cramps, and were accompanied with sudden vomiting. I hadn’t imagined labor like this – hadn’t imagined it at all really. I had just taken for granted that it was there but never bothered to visualize any of it. And now it was here, and it hurt. I’d close my eyes when the pain came in waves, and just sink into the bed. I didn’t want to squeeze Geoff’s hand, or yell in pain, or breathe in lamaze rhythms, I just wanted to go limp and give into the pain is the best way to describe it. That was weird for me because if I had to guess beforehand, I wouldn’t have thought that’d be how I’d handle the pain.
Geoff – I forget the exact time, but sometime late into the evening, I think around 8, it was discussed that her water had been broken for 14 hours, and she was only ~2 cm dilated, with irregular and long spaced contractions. The concern was that she could spend days in labor like this, but with her water broken, there would be risk of infection. We discussed it, and the decision was made to use Pitocin to speed things up. It was administered, and not long after, Kim was having much stronger contractions. Much, much stronger. It was intense for me, and I was just there for support. She’d have a contraction, and I could feel her body quiver and shake. By late night (midnight?? later??) Kim was wracked with pain. She was whimpering and even vomiting. I love her a lot, and it was hard to watch. Normally, if someone was in that kind of discomfort, you’d rush them to the ER, but this was induced by the hospital. I have a ton of respect for all women that go through that.
Kim – after Pitocin was administered, the pain was kicked up a few notches, and I found that dealing with it by slumping into the bed and going limp was no longer effective. My doula suggested that we change positions to see if alternate positions and massage techniques would be helpful. I got out of bed and onto a birth ball (really, just an oversize exercise ball) and when contractions came, I’d lean into Geoff and the doula would squeeze my hips to relieve some of the contraction pain. This worked for a little bit, but then pain increased. I found my legs shaking as I tried to stand up from the birth ball to lean into Geoff. When standing got to be too much effort, I’d go limp into Geoff’s chest, and he’d lift me onto my legs from underneath my arms so I could get off the birth ball so the doula could massage my lower back and hip area. Geoff would ask me if I was okay and if there was anything else I needed. I was in so much pain, I couldn’t talk and I didn’t want to open my eyes. I just wanted to bathe in the darkness of my closed eyelids. Luckily, the doula seemed to be able to read my mind and would say to Geoff or other nurses that I was having a contraction and unable to talk at the moment. I was grateful for that because it was important to me that Geoff and the other nurses that were trying to help me didn’t think I was being rude and ignoring them – which, in retrospect seems silly as they probably wouldn’t have thought that. At the time though, I thought that small mind reading gesture was priceless. At some point, the pain was too much, and the anesthesiologist was summoned. He was going to come in about 40 minutes, but with Geoff and the doula, I got through some more waves of intense pain interspersed with beguiling calm.
Geoff – Sometime early in the morning, the pain was just too much, and Kim elected to have an epidural. After that, she kept having strong contractions, but the pain was reduced. Kim was able to sleep, and I tried. But I was a bundle of nerves, and mostly just sat on the edge of the chair, watching Kim and the monitors. The baby’s heartbeat, Kim’s heart beat, and the contractions. I’d watch a contraction, and watch the baby’s heart rate respond, all while dozing on and off.
At some point in the morning, Kim was checked, and the night of powerful contractions had moved things along. We were having a baby. At 10:30 am, it was decided that she was far enough along, and she started pushing. It sounds cliched, but it was truly among the most amazing things I’ve seen a person put themselves through. Kim’s strength was incredible. I was doing my best to be the supportive husband, and cheering her along. It was hard. The emotions of concern for Kim and excitement about the baby played with my head.
I’m amazed by my wife, and love her very much.
Kim pushed for 2.5 hours. It was tough going, and at times I wondered if it was going to work. We were past the 24 hour deadline, and even the Doula was mentioning that the Dr. might push for a c-section, which I knew Kim wanted to avoid. I forget the exact timeline, but it seemed like a year.
The Dr. showed up, and she was impressed. I think she’d had her doubts about tiny Kim’s ability to deliver a big baby, but saw Kim was doing well. At some point, she asked me if I wanted to look. I did, and could see the top curve of the head. Wow. I cried. Kim pushed and pushed and pushed.
Kim – the hardest part of pushing was the initial stages. Not because of the physicality of it, but because my legs were still numb and I didn’t know if I was accessing the right muscles. I’d ask the nurse constantly, and she’d say that I’d done it right, or no, however I had just pushed actually resulted in sucking the baby back up a few precious millimeters. They pulled out a mirror and let me see what I was doing. I couldn’t believe I was actually starting to see a little bit of the baby’s head during pushes. Though I had found these images in Lamaze class petrifying, in reality, it was less terrifying than it was just surreal. The thought that this was an actual baby coming soon, my actual baby that I had felt kicking inside me, and that I could now actually see her head was unbelievable, bizarre, unreal, and amazing, all at once. After a few more pushes and as the epidural wore off, I could feel my legs and the muscles that were meant to do the pushing. At about 12:30, my OB showed up. There was brief chit chat with the doula and the nurses about how they liked her dress, and then they looked at me and the crowing baby’s head and she said, ‘Oh, I better get changed into my scrubs! There’s a baby coming soon!’ The OB was extremely supportive. She said, holding up her thumb and indez finger a few centimeters apart, ‘I see about this much of the baby’s head, show me you can push until I see this much of the baby’s head,’ now holding up her thumb and index finger just a smidge wider. It felt like a challenge, a rally cry, and a way to prove that what had felt like a stalling labor process could finish without an episiotomy and or c-section. My OB was a pro, it felt like a motivational speaker come to roost, and shortly after her arrival, I pushed so hard to finish the job, I thought the vessels in my eyeballs would have surely popped. I remember pushing so hard my entire body shook, my head felt hot and overheating from the exertion, like the steam of intensity was boiling up over my head and emerging from the blood vessels in my eyes. And then I heard, come on, just one more. I remember Geoff inches from my face, saying encouraging words that I was doing a great job, that he was so proud of me. I could hear he was emotionally overwhelmed in his voice, as my entire body clenched and pushed with my eyes shut tight. When I opened my eyes between pushes, I could see the look of wonder in his. I could feel the calmness in the room, the security of knowing things were going smoothly and everyone was doing their job well. I didn’t feel pain, just the sensation to push. My energy felt good and I kept thinking of the last pushes as the crux move of a hard climb. Crux move, crux move, I’d tell myself. Overhang, overhang, finger pull, finger pull, and translate that kind of effort into pushes. I was happy, had faith in my energy and strength, and happy to soon meet our baby.
Geoff – It was wild. At the end, I could see the top of the head, and turned back to Kim, just telling her she was doing great, push, that kind of thing. next thing I know, I look back, and see the head of my baby girl. The feeling was literally indescribable.
We’d planned on the baby going straight onto Kim, and me cutting the cord. But as the baby came out, I saw the Dr. grab the umbilical cord and stretch it from around the baby’s neck. The baby was briefly put on Kim, but she was blue and non-responsive, she just kind of laid there. My heart sank, and I felt a fear like never before. The nurses and team sprang to action, and the baby was quickly moved to a different table. Sue, the nurse, was efficient and quick, but clearly concerned. I stayed with the baby, and watched as the team worked on her, trying to get her to start breathing. Sue called for a specialist team, and my heart sank further. I was genuinely terrified. Tubes with suction were being run down her nostrils and throat…..
Kim – When they put the baby on the cloth in front of me, I screamed out, “Oh my god, my baby! That’s a baby!” It felt wonderful, the perching on the cusp of life and staring into the future with the man you love beside you looking at what you created together. I know, hokey, but it was absolutely wonderful. Because she was slow to respond, they whisked her away to a nearby table to spark a first cry. Geoff went with the baby a few feet away, and the doula stayed with me, holding my hand. I was worried and asked the OB and doula if the baby was okay. I looked to Geoff and he kept reassuring me the baby was fine. I think he was still petrified at this time, but he didn’t let on. He’d watch the baby, then turn around to ask if I was doing okay. I’d wave him back to staring at the baby and told him I was fine, asking if the baby okay. It continued like this for a few minutes. Meanwhile, I had heard some small cries, faint at first. My OB reassured me again, the baby was fine. The doula holding my hand told me she was fine, and Geoff kept looking back at me nodding that the baby was fine. Then, I heard a wailing cry, not massive, but enough to reassure me that Hazel was going to be okay. They soon brought me Hazel, and I held her skin to skin in my arms. I didn’t even know how to hold a newborn and had literally never changed a baby’s diaper. And now, here she was, my own baby in my arms. I felt sheer overwhelming joy, peace, love, and terror all at once, bundled together.
Then it happened. It seemed like a lifetime, but was probably only minutes. A little, weak cough. Then another. A little stronger. Then a slow cry began to build. I saw the nurses relax a little. They were still working, but the subtle shift in their behavior made me believe she was through the hard part. Soon, she was wailing, loud and clear, and emotions shifted from fear to overwhelming joy.
Hazel Bay Jennings
1:10 pm
August 13, 2011
8 lbs
21.5 inches long
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