Baby Jack's Birth Story, Part 1

Yesterday was my first Mother's Day -- and what a special day it was. It began with flowers, cards, hot chocolate, and a yummy breakfast with my boys, and ended with laughter around the table with family and a present of a Shutterfly book chronicling pregnancy and first days with Jack. It reminded me how sweet that time was, and how I don't want to forget any of it.


I want to record Jack's birth story because it was such a wonderful day, because I think the story of how you come into the world is an important one, and because it is a story of God's faithfulness that I don't want to forget.


I will take a page from Abby's book, and say if you don't want all of the details of contractions, dilation, etc. then please do not read any further. This is more for me than for anyone else, but you are welcome to share in it by reading our story, if you like.


Baby Jack was due on Sunday, January 9th, but that day came and went, without any inclination that birth was imminent.


At my 39 week checkup, I was at a good place to head into labor: 3.5cm, 70% effaced, and the baby was "low", about at a -1 station. As I've shared, I was having contractions -- as I'd had since the beginning of second trimester -- but nothing that found a pattern or that suggested that birth was imminent.


After a lovely due date day, ending with a walk in the late-night snow, I went to bed, quite late, but quite content, and looking forward to meeting my baby in the next week...or two. After lying in bed for awhile, but not falling asleep, I got up to go to the bathroom one more time. As I was washing my hands, I noticed a drip…three drips…that turned into a slow leak...that was undoubtably my water breaking. I remember smiling, breathing a small sigh of relief, and thinking, "Oh good. I will meet my baby today.”

I called downstairs to Luke, "Luke, my water just broke.” It was silent for a moment, then he said, “Ok…Are you sure?” (I love this question) and headed upstairs.  I told him, yes, I was sure, and he asked what to do. I told him to get a towel for the bathroom floor, to put on some comfortable clothes and to start packing our last things while I took a shower. He asked if he should call Jennifer, our midwife/doula. I told him, yes, to go ahead.

While he talked to Jennifer, I took a long, hot shower, knowing it could be my last for awhile and just smiled, feeling so peaceful that after weeks of wondering if the contractions meant labor, now I knew: baby Jack would be here today! I would be holding my baby in a matter of hours. I told baby Jack that I would take the very best care of him I could in labor and delivery, and I asked him to be kind to me as well.

When I got out of the shower, I asked Luke what Jennifer had said. He said she encouraged him to go ahead and call our doctor. Luke called the doctor, and the doctor on call, Dr. Goolsby, called him back, and said to come on in.

Even though I knew my water had broken, and therefore I needed to have the baby relatively soon, I was surprised that we were supposed to go in. Besides my water breaking, there was nothing that felt like labor was coming. In fact, for the first time in weeks, I WASN’T having contractions. 

That worried me a little because I knew that broken water without progress could have me on a fast road toward a pitocin labor or c-section, which were not my preference. I wondered if perhaps my water had not broken all of the way and so I did what any logical 40 week-and-a-few-hours pregnant woman would do: lunges. I figured if my water was broken, I’d better make sure it was all of the way broken so we could get things going. I don’t know that it helped, but it did make me feel a little better.

Now, as soon as my water broke, I entered a zone where the only thing I was really thinking about was the baby. I had noticed that usually calm Luke was a little distracted. The gravity of the weather situation was not registering with me at all.

As I dressed, Luke gathered our last things, finished packing the car – and was making several phone calls - to Jennifer and the SWAT guys on duty. He told me Jennifer suggested I rest as much as I could because once contractions started, I wouldn't rest for awhile and would need all the strength I could. 

I knew it took the average first time mom 12 hours before she delivered once she had contractions 5 minutes apart and 1 minute in length for 1 hour (5-1-1) – and my contractions hadn’t even started yet, so I was prepared for a long haul. I curled up on our love seat (I use "curled up" loosely) as Luke loaded the car, and closed my eyes to rest for a bit – what would turn out to be my only rest that 24 hour period. After the car was loaded, Luke woke me with a snack – a peanut butter and jelly rollup -- and encouraged me to eat it and drink as much water as I felt I could to prepare for the physical event that was to come. 

It was about then (5:15am) that I had my first contraction. I asked Luke to time it, and I could tell by the expression on his face that it was a long one. I asked “How long was that?” and he said, ”Mmm…about a minute.” I headed upstairs to go to the restroom, and had another one while walking up the stairs. “Wow!” I said “That one hurt.” As soon as I said it, I stopped for a second. I wanted to get in the right mindset for the challenge that was ahead, and complaining wasn’t going to help. I know that a lot of pain perception comes from being tense or fearful, so I tried to relax and ask myself what specifically the contraction had felt like. It was intense, I decided, and uncomfortable. And, I needed to breathe and go with it. Another came. Then 5 minutes later another. By 5:45, I had had 6 contractions, each at least a minute in length, and pretty much exactly 5 minutes apart.

At 5:45, Luke said “We need to go.” I shook my head, “But, it’s only been half an hour of contractions.” I was hung up on the fact that all of the hospital classes we went to said to wait until I’d had an hour of 1minute contractions 5 minutes apart. I was only about 6 contractions in to the very beginning of labor and we were already heading out? 

It was then that Luke leveled with me: “Johannah, the roads are really bad, and the TAC guys are willing to help us get there safely, but they’re only on duty for another half hour. I really think we should just go ahead and go.” Another thing that was hanging me up was that our plan had been that our midwife, Jennifer, was going to meet us at our house, help us with early labor, and help us decide when we were really in active labor and when it was time to go in. I asked him “What about Jennifer?” He told me that Jennifer had encouraged us to go ahead and go and that she would try and meet us there. I had one last fear to get past. I asked Luke: “Are you SURE I’m legit to go in?” He smiled as he said “yes. Your water has broken. You’ve had contractions consistently for half an hour…you are in labor.” At that, I gave up my plan (at least that part of it), put on my running shoes and coat, and headed out in the snow with Luke. 

I held his arm as I walked to the wagon because the driveway was icy. The winter night was so quiet and still. The snow covered not only our grass, but the roads too, and no one else was stirring…except there were two very bright headlights parked on our road. I asked Luke: “Who is that?” "It’s Ben and Robbie," he said…and sure enough, the TAC guys were in their ATV, waiting to escort us to the hospital. Luke drove very slowly and carefully to St Vincent's, less than two miles down the road, while the TAC guys followed behind us.

When we crossed over 18^th street, I looked to the left, and the entire road into Birmingham, was closed off with cones because of the snow and ice covering the mountain. We took the Expressway, and I was thankful my car had all-wheel drive, though I was more struck by how quiet and beautiful the city was than by how Luke was sweating through every second of the drive as the Expressway was a solid sheet of ice and NO ONE had started the morning commute in. On the way there, I had one or two more contractions, and called my mom and sisters to let them know we were headed in, but that progress seemed slow and the weather wasn’t great, so to stay put and we’d keep them updated.

We slid into the bottom level of St. Vincent’s parking garage, and Luke waved the TAC team on. We were safely at St. Vincent's. And it felt like we were the only ones there.  Luke grabbed my bag, we were talking as we walked up to the hospital, and I wasn't feeling very much at all in labor -- not the way I had pictured walking into Labor and Delivery. When we arrived at the desk, there were about 8 nurses sitting and standing around the counter, and they all looked at us as we walked up. They seemed very surprised to see us and asked how bad the roads were and how long it took us to get there. Luke told them that the roads were pretty bad, but when contractions started, he felt like he needed to go ahead and try and get us in.

They sent me to triage where they checked my blood pressure (good), and did a nitrazine paper test to verify that my water had broken (I assured her it had). When she checked me I was disappointed to hear I was 4cm and 80% effaced – just a little more than I’d been at my 39 week appointment almost exactly a week ago. I felt discouraged that since we left the house, my contractions weren’t feeling very strong or consistent, and I knew the 24-hour clock was ticking until a c-section and I was already 4 hours in without much progress at all. 


As the nurse reviewed our birthplan, she asked if my doula was going to make it. As I was saying yes, she was planning to meet us here, Luke stepped in and told me that it didn’t look like Jennifer was going to make it after all. Blow number 2.  I felt prepared for, and even excited about labor with my carefully-planned birthing team. Now, a major portion of it – the one who knew what we wanted and was ready to help us achieve that – wasn’t coming. I suddenly felt very much more discouraged. Then, the nurse said she was going to get us admitted and into a room, but that shift change was about to happen, and so we’d get a new nurse in a bit. I looked at the clock and said “Oh yeah, it’s almost 7, so Dr. Stone should be in soon.” She told me that due to the weather, the practice was closed that day, and the doctor on call was Dr. Goolsby – not Dr. Stone, and that he was going to try and make it in. Blow number 3. 

I felt like crying. All of that research to find a doctor in Birmingham with a low c-section and episiotomy rate, and all of that time spent getting to know him and talking about what we hoped for in a delievery, and he wouldn’t be there either. I couldn’t believe that my doctor and midwife weren’t coming. That didn’t even seem right. Luke tried to help me understand how bad the roads were by saying that the interstates into Alabama were even closed. Wow. The icing on the cake: my family wasn’t going to be able to come either. My confidence at this point was almost gone. I had a contraction just then and this one hurt. I felt like crying. I felt alone and in an impossible situation. Then I looked up at my sweet, supportive, concerned, capable husband and he said, “Johannah, this is not how we planned it. The weather is terrible, our support people can’t be here, but this is still a really good day. This is the day we will meet our son. We can do this together.”

And with that, I took a deep breath, and was ready. Ready to check in, ready to start the labor that was going to lead to us holding our baby that day.