It’s Jax’s first birthday! I can not even begin to describe how I’m feeling. I can’t believe it’s been a year already but in the same breathe I don’t remember what life was like without him. It’s been such an enormous week for my little family. I returned to work on Monday and have now spent three days at work, away from my little man. Jax spent three full days in daycare and NOW its his first birthday. I’m overwhelmed with memories of the past year. I’m so proud of my husband and the father he has become and I’m so proud of myself for surviving the first year of motherhood.
As i write this Im looking at the time and thinking about where my labour was up to at this exact minute last year. At 6.40pm 20th March 2014 I got to meet this beautiful boy that I have now spent a full year with. He has stolen my heart completely.
But as my thoughts dwell to my labour, I’m reminded how lucky I was. I almost didn’t have Jax. Jax’s birth was beautiful but imperfect. I had a rough labour and a complication that I wasn’t expecting or educated about and I’d like to share my experience. While my story is a little off-putting, I really don’t want anyone to be scared by it. I have told some of my close friends this story and they look at me horrified. That’s not my intention. I look back on it as a good memory. I mean, childbirth is scary and painful and ridiculously exhausting but id do it again and its an experience I’m looking forward to going through again one day; when we eventually decide to make jax a little brother or sister. Despite my labour and childbirth having complications, i look back on it with a smile and it just makes me cuddle Jax a little harder each night.
At 12.05am I woke on a warm and humid March night to a crazy sensation. I felt like I had wet the bed to put it bluntly. I jumped up and waddled to the en-suite bathroom. I sat on the toilet for a few minutes. I wasn’t sure but i thought my waters might have broken and I was so nervous and scared that I was actually shaking. I composed myself, stood up and went back into the bedroom to wake up Nick. His response was “Are you sure? What do you mean your waters broke?!” I was due in 2 days time so I was a little taken-aback that he wasn’t at all expecting this.
We were organised and had bags ready and our plan was to calmly do everything. But we were both so frazzled. Nick was ridiculous. He jumped out of bed, scrambled for clothes and started erratically doing jobs that really didn’t need to be done right now. For example he felt that he really needed to feed our fish right then at 12.10am and put washing up away.
But after a few minutes I managed to wrangle Nick in and we found a moment of calm to sit and ring the hospital. We live in rural Australia and I was overweight while I was pregnant so I wanted to give birth at a bigger hospital with specialists and the best facilities; but this hospital was over an hour away. So I had to go to our local hospital to get cleared to travel. What ensued was an uncomfortable check and the deflating news that although my waters had broke, I was no where near dilated enough to warrant being in hospital yet. So they sent me home and told me to get some sleep and travel to the bigger hospital in the morning.
I did not sleep a wink. I slowly started to get contractions and became more and more petrified. I remember how much adrenaline I had at this stage and as the contractions got stronger and closer I realized I couldn’t wait until morning to go. At 4.30am I again woke Nick up and told him I had to go.
The car trip was horrific. I don’t remember looking at the road. I spent the entire hour and ten minutes checking the clock and timing each minute and second of each contraction. The trip was the most painful and uncomfortable experience. I do not recommend it. Each bump was so so uncomfortable.But upon reaching the hospital i was admitted quickly and again told that despite my close contractions; they were irregular and I had a long way to go.
At 9am I was moved into a birth suite, given gas, and hooked up to a contraction monitor. I was constantly reminded to walk to move the process along. Contractions got worse and closer and closer. But little progress was happening. I couldn’t believe how painful this was and I was only just beginning active labour.
Hours passed. Nurses kept telling me to walk, move and stay hydrated and occasionally examined me. I felt disgusting at this point. I was getting tired and frustrated at how long this was taking. The gas was good but it didn’t take any pain away, just distracted me a little from it and it was making me so dry and hoarse.
By 3pm I wanted an epidural but was warned that this could slow labour down further. So I waited, but was given a needle for relieve the pain.I remember being so tired and hungry. I wanted to eat but my contractions were beginning to roll into one another. One would end and just as quickly another would begin. By the time i went to take a bite of a sandwich, a contraction would start and i I couldn’t bring myself to do anything but suck on gas. I also remember getting cranky with Nick for doing this do me and telling him that we would adopt next time.
A bit before 5pm, Nick signed consent and I had an epidural. I remember being super calm about it. It was a weird sensation. I think at this point I just wanted it over with. I wasn’t scared about the needle or dangers of epidural; which I now find weird because I was very scared about it leading up to my due date. It’s funny how your priorities change when your in the moment.
It didn’t take too long before my epidural had kicked in and I was feeling relief. I couldn’t move and had a catheter put in; which i found humiliating. I could still feel the tightness of the contractions but the intense pain was now numbed. After hours of being on gas and morphine, I have to admit that I was feeling a little out of it and sleepy. But something wasn’t right. Nurses kept examining me and instead of the jovial remarks and encouraging conversations; they seemed worried. Things were still progressing too slowly and they told me that Jax was posterior. I’d been told that he was posterior in an earlier exam but ensured that he would probably turn as he dropped down and that it wasn’t anything to worry about. He hadn’t turned!!
It was now too late to have a cesarean. My slight concern turned to absolute panic. Doctors were concerned that Jax was in distress so put a heart-rate monitor on his skull and two pediatricians were called into the room. Just as Doctors were preparing for me to start pushing, Jax’s heart-rate plummeted. The long labour was becoming too much for Jax and he was now in real distress. The entire tone on the room changed. It went from “Come on Darling, you can do this.. Push. Push” to “Jess this is really serious. You need to push right NOW!” Alarms started going of and staff rushed into the room.
Jax was stuck and in distress. I didn’t know if he would make it. I started to push. It felt so intense. There was so much pressure. That’s the best and only word I can find for how it felt. It was painful but because of the epidural it wasn’t a pain that totally consumed my thoughts anymore. I’m so glad I got an epidural. I had to focus on getting Jax out and I think that if I had forgone an epidural and been in as much pain as I was a few hours ago, I wouldn’t of been able to concentrate or stay calm enough to push properly.
Doctors used forceps and cut me open. They told me what they were doing as they did it. They were using so much force to pull jax out. Forceps didn’t work; so they attempted using the suction vacuum cup. The Doctor yanked so hard that the cup broke and went flying, nearly hitting Nick in the head. A second suction cup was used, forceps were tried again and I was cut further.
Finally, after an enormous amount of pulling, pushing and panic, Jax was born and thrown up onto my chest momentarily before being whisked away.
Jax was born at 6.40pm on 20th March 2014, weighing 3430grams and 56cm. Despite being in distress, his heart-rate recovered quickly after childbirth and he was otherwise a healthy little boy.
Oh my God. Relief. Not relief because the pain was over, but pure relief that Jax was alive. The pediatrician gave him a thorough check and he was finally allowed back on my chest . He was beautiful. Super gross and covered in muck but oh my gosh, I have never seen anything so beautiful. His poor head was a mess. The vacuum and forceps had bruised him and cut him and because babies’ skulls are soft, the vacuum had kind of sucked his skull out of shape. He probably wasn’t very pretty to look at but I thought he was gorgeous.
Such a ridiculous experience. It was scary but humbling. In retrospect, I wish I could go back to pregnant me and tell myself to stop sweating the stupid stuff (like being scared I would fart in front of the nurses or being scared about an episiotomy) because that stuff doesn’t matter and in the moment you just won’t care. It’s the big picture that matters. I came so close to loosing Jax. Minutes, maybe seconds, were the difference between having my healthy baby and loosing him. Thinking back just makes me appreciate every second, every minute, every day with Jax; because every second is crucial and counts.
Happy birthday my beautiful boy. I love you so much. I wish you the world and look forward to another amazing year.
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