Birth Story: Corbin Jack

So my baby is already a month old, and I've heard from a handful of you that you've been waiting for an update on the blog. Well... believe it or not, the blog has taken a major backseat to basically everything else in life. I wanted to journal his birth story right away so I wouldn't forget things, especially the funny stuff. But I tell you what, every day that first week the one thing I wanted to make sure got done was documenting what was happening but between visitors and feeding all I could manage to do was sleep! I would look at a screen and last no more than 10 seconds. Also, every time I nursed him I felt like I was being drugged because I couldn't stay awake... even with visitors. I remember trying so hard to stay awake when people would visit but I just couldn't. Anyway- let's back up... Oh and remember, I'm not good at telling short stories... so grab a cup of hot cocoa and kick your feet up-- if you plan to finish reading this in one sitting, it will be a while......

 At my last prenatal appointment my doctor told me if I didn't have this baby by Sunday, to call Monday morning to schedule an induction for that week. After he didn't come by the weekend I prepared myself and assumed I was going to need to be induced. I remember talking to my sister on Saturday about having to be induced and how jipped she felt when she was induced with her first and I was feeling the same about not going into labor naturally. When we went to bed Saturday night- me in our bed, Andrew in the guest bed, neither of us thought it would be our last night just the 2 of us.

​I woke up around 3:20am Sunday morning feeling like I had to poop, and NOW. So I went downstairs and sat... and sat... and gave up. So I went back to bed feeling constipated. I woke back up a half hour later thinking I would for sure go this time, but just the way it had come back made me wonder. I saw Andrew stir when I was on my way downstairs so I told him, “I might be having contractions but I think I’m just constipated.” He just said, “really?” But he tells me now that he was thinking, “if you think you’re having contractions, you probably are!” Well I went back to the bathroom and I did indeed poop. I went back upstairs and just sat at the top talking to Andrew. I told him I still didn’t feel right, but that I did poop and maybe I just wasn’t done. Andrew wasn’t entirely convinced by that. Well I crawled back in bed and then immediately got back out, feeling awful. I came downstairs and kind of wandered around and then tried sitting on the couch for a little but I couldn’t hold still because of the pain in my lower back. Around 4:30am I yelled up the stairs, "Andrew, can you come downstairs?!" I needed some moral support. He did and we tried to see if this was real labor or not. (more so, I tried to decide if it was or not, and Andrew tried to convince me.) I was so confused because I had read before that real labor starts at the top of your uterus and works its way down. Well my stomach/torso area never once hurt. Finally I decided to call my mom and ask her if I was having back labor. I never asked her that question (Andrew did) because I was afraid of the answer. She had told me before that back labor was the WORST and she hoped of all things that I didn't have back labor. I had back labor. Anyway, she said it sounded like labor, and when I got a contraction I gave Andrew the phone and I squatted on the floor and yelled. Andrew had been trying to time my contractions, which he said was hard to do because I was moaning the whole time- but definitely louder when they were stronger. Finally after he kept saying “that was like 5 minutes!” and “it’s only been like 2 minutes!!!” I called the hospital and told them I was coming in.

​On the way to the hospital I continued to have contractions roughly 3-6 min apart. I remember being able to tell when they were coming on and I told yelled at Andrew that I hated knowing they were coming.  There were no cars on the road on our way, and Andrew took the liberty of speeding the whole way there. He asked what he should do if he got pulled over and I said, “DON’T PULL OVER! Put your 4 ways on and just keep going!” Luckily we didn’t have to try that out. Right before the hospital there is a red light that takes FOREVER to change so as soon as we were coming up to it, I informed Andrew of this, and told him to run it. He did. Andrew asked if he should drop me off but I didn’t want to be left alone so I made him park and we walked to the door together, me stopping a couple times because of the pain. When we got to the desk I said my name and the nurse said, I assume you called in? I told her I did and she told someone, “We have another one.” All the triage rooms were full so she took me right to a Labor/Delivery/Recovery/Postpartum room. She handed me a gown and told me to change into it. Now, I realize that everyone was about to see invade my most private areas but I did not feel like getting butt naked in a big room with a nurse and my husband. I don't know why I thought I had to have any dignity because I went to the bathroom and while I was sitting there, I got very nauseous. I told the nurse I felt like I was going to throw up and sure enough… I did... butt naked sitting on the toilet throwing up and she's being a good nurse and getting me a bin to barf in and helping me put my gown on. So long dignity. Finally I climbed into the bed and she checked me and told me I was 2cm dilated. What a huge let down!!! I couldn’t believe I had all those contractions with all that pain and I was only one more centimeter dilated!!! Andrew and I were both thinking that this was going to be a very long day. The nurse told us that some other doctor was on call that weekend but that sometimes mine would come in anyway. I thought, well she better come in, she told me she wasn’t doing anything this weekend!

​I’m pretty sure the nurses thought it was going to be a long day too, and under different circumstances, I’m sure I would have been sent back home. However, when they called my doctor she told them to keep me there and she would come in and break my water, since I was overdue anyway. She apparently also had a busy week scheduled and didn’t know when she was going to fit me in for an induction! When the nurses told me she was going to break my water, they also decided to tell me that the labor was going to get much worse once she did that. I don’t know why they decided to tell me that. It was a lie anyway.

​I continued to have back labor and Andrew was pushing with his fists on my lower back to help with the pain. He was pushing as hard as he could; I ended up with slight bruising on my lower back! One time he said he was going to push me off the bed if he kept pushing that hard, and I told him that’s ok. I pushed against the bed railing and every now and then would scootch back to the other side of the bed. One particular contraction he was pushing on my back and I thought maybe he was making it worse, so I told him, “Stop pushing!” Well as soon as he stopped, the pain got worse, so I yelled, “PUSH!” Andrew says I did that a couple times, but I only remember one.

​I ended up throwing up two more times throughout the course of labor because the pain was so strong. What an awful, terrible feeling. The throwing up, which was mainly dry heaving followed by regurgitating clear liquids, is what made me cry and feel like the worst person in the world. My mouth was so incredibly dry that I needed to keep drinking, but eventually I realized that’s what was making me throw up. Andrew asked me if I wanted ice (how he knew to think of and offer that, I don’t know) and I told him I did because maybe the moisture would last longer in my mouth. I ate ice chips the rest of labor.

​Andrew did such an amazing job. There is no way that I could have done that without his help. He was encouraging, he did whatever I asked yelled and never once appeared scared. I tell him the only thing he could have done better is have some extra hands so he could give me ice while still pushing on my back. I hated losing his pressure when he would get me the ice, but I couldn’t do without the ice either!!!

​The nurses kept asking me if I wanted the epidural and I kept telling them, “No, I do not!” I knew it would take a lot of convincing for me to get the epidural, and if that back labor couldn’t convince me, no one will ever be able to!  After about an hour and a half of contractions, I think the nurses realized that I was progressing faster than they initially thought. They checked me again and I was 5-6cm dilated. Andrew and I both felt some relief with that! At least all this was doing something!!!

​At one point the nurses were talking about how me and the other girl who came in right before me, both came in not wanting an epidural and that the other girl just got one. I heard that and told Andrew, “I WIN!” He didn’t let me have that satisfaction, and he responded, “ No, you don’t win. You’re just more stubborn.” Darn right, I am. I'm sure that I will go without an epidural for all future births too because the next day my doctor told me she was really glad I didn't have one because she didn't think she would have been able to get him out with one. She watched him twist as he came through the canal. With him being in there all wompy, I probably would have needed a c-section if I got an epidural.

​The labor nurse asked me if I wanted Stadol to help with the pain. I had no idea what that was, and was nervous to say yes. I tried to get her to tell me a little more about it, but all she really said was that it takes the edge off the pain and will feel like I’ve had a couple drinks. I don’t know what having a couple drinks feels like, but if it feels like Stadol, I don't want them. She gave it to me and immediately I felt dizzy and couldn’t keep my eyes open. I basically kept my eyes shut the rest of the time. When they asked me to rate my pain, I told them that maybe it was a little better- I picked 9 instead of 10.  Andrew says he could see the difference more than I could feel it. I still say the pain at the height of the contractions was just as bad. The difference was that in between them, I got some relief, unlike I was getting before. Between contractions I was nearly falling asleep. 

​Backing up a little, I started out laying on my back and labored there for a little while, but eventually a nurse told me that the baby’s heartrate was dropping when I had contractions so I would need to reposition myself. She suggested laying on my side, so I went to my right first. That felt better for me anyway so I was happy to do it. Unfortunately, it made it worse for the baby so they said to try the other side. Well when I rolled to my left side I got another contraction so I said, “NOOO! This is worse!!” They told me it was better for the baby and that I should stay. I stayed that way until I was pushing him out.

​Around 9/9:30ish my doctor showed up in her "street clothes." I was SOOOOO glad to see her! She got herself changed into scrubs and checked me out. I was 8-9cm dilated! Andrew and I were so excited! She broke my water, which I never felt and when the nurse asked her if it was clear my doctor said, “Yeah, well there’s really not much there, she is overdue.” Maybe that’s why I never felt the difference.

​So like I said, I continued my back labor and let everyone in the hospital know it. I was a screamer. I yelled with every contraction, and moaned in between. I would sometimes yell things like, “It HURRRRRTS!” or “I HATE THIS!” “I’m never doing this AGAIN!!!” Andrew told me he would remember that. (Later that day I said something like, “Next time…” And Andrew reminded me of this.

Anyway, so my least favorite nurse would respond to these outbursts by saying things like “Yes, this is labor” “Labor hurts” “it’s supposed to.” Let me just tell you… I wanted to smack her face off for saying those things. Andrew even agrees that she was… not helpful in this way.

​Once, the doctor came in and told me that I could push a little when my contractions were the worst and that would help with the pain. I had been clenching everything and my legs were stiff as boards during those contractions. So I had to sort of, change gears a bit to push instead of clench. The pushing really did help. I did a little at first, but got sort of addicted to it. I don’t remember rolling back to my back but before I knew it the nurses were bringing up foot rests for me to push against and they told me to hold on to my legs to help me push and I was pushing! I couldn’t hold on to my legs. That didn’t really work for me. My doctor told them since I was pretty tall that maybe the handle bars would be easier. Thank you, yes they were. I was gripping and pulling on these handlebars with all my strength!!! I thought about labor and pushing when I was pregnant and I always thought I would love the feeling of pushing and that I would be really good at it. I’m really good at pushing out poop. Well…. that’s what I did. I pooped 3 times. Yes, THREE times. And it wasn’t diarrhea either. I know that I was pooping because I could feel the turds coming out and I could smell it, and I could feel my doctor wiping my butt, and watched her change her gloves every time. How I can look her in the face now is beyond me. I yelled at her once, "all I can do is poop!" and she said it was fine and to not worry about it. Well I wouldn’t worry about it except that’s the only feeling of pushing I could get. People say it’s the same muscles you use to push, but I’m here to tell you there is a difference! I had one good push that I know was the right muscles, but I couldn’t ever find it again. My doctor even said that was a good one. I never felt him moving down, and I couldn’t feel a thing with the pushing… just immense back pain. They told me they could feel the head and that he was close and push “one more time.” That’s like my mother’s “one more bite,”which is only true if you’re an alligator. I really really really hated pushing. I felt like I couldn’t do it. In fact, that is what I kept yelling. And Andrew, the nurses, and the doctor all responded that I could do it, and that I was doing it right now. I grunted and yelled with every push and whenever I would do that, the nurse and Dr would yell, “ no no no!!!” I thought that meant, don’t push! Once I realized that’s not what they meant, I yelled “I don’t know what you mean when you say no!!!” Basically the doctor was yelling at me. I was yelling at her. It was a joyous occasion.  

​My doctor told Andrew to come down and help her out, which was NOT the plan. I told him for months that he was required to stay up by me so my lady parts and giving birth would not gross him out. He was needed to help hold my leg out, since I kept wanting to close them, and also holding my legs back on the table, since I kept wanting to slide off! Not really though, I kept pushing, and moving farther down the table because I felt like I could push harder down, than out. I guess my doctor didn’t think that was a good idea.

There was another time​ I wasn’t breathing slow enough (probably because I told Andrew to stop telling me to focus on my breathing) and there was, I guess, some hyperventilating about to happen and all of a sudden there is an oxygen mask on my face. Hello?! A warning would be nice!!! So I ripped it off my face. The nurse yelled at me told me to leave it on, and put it back on. I glared at her and left it on for about 5 more seconds and ripped it off again. I made sure I calmed my breathing down so they wouldn't sufficate me with more oxygen... ;)

​Finally, I felt the Ring of Fire. I knew the end was near. Only maybe 3 more pushes and that precious head was out. It was so huge I thought for sure his whole body was out. Nope! One more push and out he came. I did open my eyes in time to see his slimy little (big) body as the doctor pulled him out. They did some this and that, I don’t know what, and I light-heartedly pushed out the placenta and felt the ultimate relief I was craving. Andrew cut the cord and the nurses wiped Corbin off and placed him on my chest. AH-MAZING. I slowly brought my hands up to him and touched his little arm. I could not believe it- he was real! That’s what I thought when I touched his skin and felt his warmth, felt that there was blood, muscles, and bone inside. He was real and alive, and ours! Whoa!

​He wasn’t really very cute. Andrew and I both agreed on this. However… later that evening Andrew said something to the effect of him not looking so bad after all, I had thought the same thing and told him so. He continues to get cuter and cuter every day!!! Have no fear, I think he is the cutest little man now! 

     ​A short summary of the first week is that it was pretty easy. He didn't really cry much except when we changed his diaper. I say we, because that first week, it was usually a group effort. Speaking of changing diapers. He got me all worried because he took a long time to have his first wet diaper. The doctor said she didn't want to do his circumcision until he could prove he could wet a diaper. It was a big celebration MONDAY night when he had his first soaker. Well, he had a poopy diaper Monday afternoon and then decided he didn't want to have another one until Wednesday. No poop or pee for 2 days... I was a worried mess. After that he's never stopped! Ha! 

         Well I think that's enough details! Next up: 1 Week-1 Month!