As I was preparing for Jonathan's birth in August, I read a ton of birth stories, and thought it would be somewhat healing to write JD's. Eventually, I'll get to Jon's, but in the mean time, here you go:
For me, JD’s birth story begins with his conception. I got the vacation bug in the winter
of 2007, and couldn’t stop thinking about a return to Hawaii. I did my research, booked
us flights and a condo in Maui, and figured that Jeff and I could start trying for our first
baby in paradise. Things went just as I planned, and less than two weeks after returning home, on May 6, 2007, my hunch proved right, and a little stick told me that I was pregnant. Being that we had just decided to start trying for a baby, it took a little time for everything to sink in. Despite that fact, I was happy, and Jeff was content with the news that a baby was on his way.
Fast forward through a happy, contented summer and very early autumn. Jeff discovered that something was not quite right with his body and saw a doctor. Initial diagnosis was probably just one of the symptoms, and his problem partially cleared up after a round of antibiotics. Because things still weren’t quite right, he was put on another round of antibiotics and sent for an ultrasound. The ultrasound showed cancer and was later concluded to be acute myelogenous leukemia (AML). As our world came crashing down around us, I stopped worrying, wondering and celebrating my pregnancy, and started educating myself on AML, its treatments and their success rates. I learned that Jeff had about a 35% chance of making it 5 years.
The third trimester of my pregnancy with JD was spent watching Jeff suffer through
treatments and wondering how on earth I was going to bring a baby into such a stressful situation. I worried about Jeff’s and the baby’s well-being, and whether or not the baby was handling the stress hormones that I was no doubt sending him in abundant doses. Despite those worries, on January 2nd, 2008, my water broke in the middle of the night. Jeff was already in the hospital for Stem Cell Transplant #1, so I called my family and drove myself to the hospital with a towel between my legs. I remember walking on to the maternity ward crying, explaining to a nurse that I was here to have my baby, but that my husband was upstairs on the transplant floor and he was very sick.
I soon settled down and realized that this baby was coming regardless of the facts that his father was sick, we were 200 miles from home and Jeff would need an entourage of supplies and nurses to be able to attend the birth. Labor started slowly and was pretty easy for the first couple of hours. I called Jeff’s room to wake him up and let him know that I had arrived, and that we were having a baby today. He spent a little more time resting and showed up a bit later. Considering what his body had been enduring for the past few weeks, his spirits were high and he was an excellent partner during labor. When he needed to sleep, he was escorted back to his own room as we reassured him that we would call for him when it came time to push.
In the middle of all of the chaos, my Aunt Paula, Cousin Danielle, and my own Dad arrived in Hershey after several hours of treacherous driving through a snowstorm. Paula stayed with me the entire time, Dad spent his time worrying, and Danielle did what any 20-year old would do once she saw what labor was all about – she fled to the waiting room.
Reaching 10 centimeters proved to get substantially more difficult as my cervix continued to open, but I stayed strangely calm. I allowed Jeff, Paula and the L&D nurse, Abby to help me through the contractions and did not feel the need to ask for any medication. At around noon, after 8 or 10 hours of laboring, the doctor told me it was time to push. At that point, I decided I was afraid and I’m not sure why. Maybe the three months of wondering why I was put in the situation of bringing a baby into the world amidst all the pain and suffering of his father had taken its toll or maybe I just didn’t spend enough time thinking about labor and the amazing abilities of a female body.
Whatever the case may have been, I pushed hard for two hours and got nowhere. His head was jammed against my pelvic bones and I wasn’t able to let him through. At this point, I was having a lot of back pain, and when they told me it was likely I was going to require a c-section, I sort of gave up. I took the epidural and relegated myself to the fact that this was just one more thing gone completely wrong.
At about 4 pm, I was rolled into the operating room and JD was surgically removed from my body. Upon the announcement, “It’s a boy,” I was overcome with joy. We got a sneak peak at our little man, Jeff made the announcement to our family, and I was rolled into a recovery room. About an hour later (I’m completely guessing on the timeframe), I was taken to my room and got to nurse JD for the first time. I was completely overcome with love for him, and I spent the next several days in the hospital learning to breastfeedand recovering from surgery. JD and I made frequent trips upstairs to see Jeff, and to make things as easy as possible, I maxed out my stay in the hospital. After being discharged, JD and I continued our stay in Hershey and spent long days in Jeff’s hospital room. Over the course of those few weeks, my love for JD helped me to come to terms with the c-section, and until a few months ago, I didn’t let it bother me.
Between JD’s birth and his second birthday, Jeff went through periods of relative healthfulness and remission, and periods of relapse. In December of 2009, after a long fought battle, Jeff died from complications of his second full Stem Cell Transplant. I was ready for our suffering to be over, and JD was too little to know what really happened. My little boy and I leaned on our family for support and began a healing process that continues on to this day. I began dating again to help me feel like a normal person, and 15 months after Jeff’s death, I re-married a man who has become my best friend, and JD’s Daddy.
After researching more about natural childbirth and obstetrical practices in the United
States, I have since realized that my cesarean may have been unnecessary. For the entire labor, I was confined to a bed, and the pushing stage was endured entirely on my back. I had no idea that I might have been better off squatting or in some other position that would have allowed my pelvis to open up and to have some assistance from gravity. I’ve also learned quite a bit about the emotional mind-body connection that is so important in birthing a baby, and I very recently had the thought that maybe I really wasn’t ready for JD to be borne into such a mess, and my “inability” to push him out was really my mind taking over my body.
In any case, I am really okay with the fact that JD arrived via c-section, because in the end, I am healthy and my little boy has done nothing but thrive since Day One. However, I plan to deliver Baby #2 drug-free, with as little intervention as possible. Baby #2 is coming into this world at a very happy time, and to parents and a big brother that can’t wait for his arrival. This time, I am heading into labor with the knowledge that my body is capable of pushing out a baby, and I am freshly prepared with a new found confidence, a supportive, healthy husband, and a doula.
