Dad's Reflections on Birth

Looking back to when I first learned Jess was pregnant, most of my attention and delight was focused on that mere fact...that she was able to get pregnant naturally, despite our years of failed natural and “fertility-assisted” attempts. However, this excited mindset unpredictably evolved over the next couple of months, as the reality of Jess birthing a human baby quickly approached.

My first thoughts of how the delivery would unfold involve me sitting beside one of Woman's Hospital’s stocked ponds with a fishing pole in one hand and my cell phone in the other, eagerly waiting until it lit-up with a message stating, “Get up here, the baby’s on the way!” I mean, with all the media imagery blasted through movies and TV sitcoms, how tough could this really be inside of a hospital with all those doctors and drugs? Also, the mental image of a baby being birthed gave me chills from repressed flashbacks of “home-ec” videos. Other than the desire to help my wife out in any way I second-handedly could, I had no desire to be anywhere but the waiting room.

These thoughts and feelings quickly faded the more I learned of the vast differences between the experiences of family and close friends when their nine months came to an end. On one side, the hospital and doctors knew best (even in regards to which day and hour to mark on your calendar for delivery). On the other side, my more “open-minded” friends were proclaiming, “there’s no place like home…”. While I’m always a skeptic of the doctors and the industrialization of healthcare, why would I question anything other than the typically portrayed {doctor + hospital + drugs} = {low risk, healthy baby, and healthy wife} formula?

It was actually a godsend that one of my friends encouraged me to actually research alternatives to the medical model of childbirth. And the more I researched, the deeper the rabbit hole seemingly went. My more natural sensibilities in regards to the history of childbirth (considering in only the last 50-100 years have humans really started to tamper with this natural process) gave me an increasing anxiety towards the medical approach to delivery. I mean, why should we mess with thousands of successful years of reproduction and the birthing process God designed?

But herein lies the male partner’s problem… God said to the woman (not to the man...), “I will make your pains in childbearing very severe”. How insensitive would it be now to try and influence my wife away from the very American mindset of taking your drugs, feeling little to nothing (and now I realize that this is not just physical but can also be emotional), and still having a bundle of joy to hold when it’s done? Thankfully, God is much greater than me and had already been opening Jess’s eyes to alternate birthing options and giving her a growing dissatisfaction with the medical model of labor and delivery.  

Our focus now centered on education and the desire for clarity with the vast array of good and bad information that surrounded us. Out of all the research that we did, two essential elements were found (and later proved). One – have an OB doctor that is an active part of and encourages your birth plan. Two – have a doula by your side for guidance and encouragement. And even better, find an OB doctor that enjoys working with a doula (that’s a win-win-win).

Enter now into our story, René the Doula. Only after agreeing to educate ourselves with her natural birth course did we come to the solid conclusion that, for us to reach our goal of a natural childbirth (ie., no plan to induce unless medically necessary, no plan to have an epidural, and no scheduled C-section), we were going to need René by our side in the delivery room. And almost as importantly for me, Rene’s class opened my eyes (literally) to the beauty of childbirth and the joy of being an active part of my son’s delivery.  

Only a few weeks separated our preparatory class work and the real world testing of that knowledge. I can still remember Jess approaching me late in the evening on December 28 with excitement and anxiety in her eyes. She was starting to experience minor contractions.  My engineering mind’s conditioned response was to quickly start tracking the duration between these contractions to help out! This may have been more stressful for Jess than planned, but it was also a very exciting moment for me, too.

Our goal at this stage was to labor as long as practical in the comfort of home. All the soothing techniques learned in our class were quickly found to be beneficial – especially the warm, relaxing water of the shower. We telephoned René around 3:30 a.m. to alert her of contraction duration and time between contractions. She was ready to head to the hospital when we were. We made it to 10:00 the next morning (Dec. 29), but the strength and frequency of the contractions alerted us that it was time to voyage to the hospital.

The brutal car ride was rewarded with René greeting Jess and me in the admissions area of the hospital and guiding us through this initial unknown territory. After being admitted and checked, we discovered our hospital arrival was premature, considering Jess had only dilated about 1 cm. However, this gave us a good gauge in regards to how the hospital operates (seemingly only numbers on a bed chart like you’d see a host marking off taken tables in a restaurant) and a deeper appreciation for having a seasoned doula guiding us in this uncharted territory. Upon consultation with our doctor via telephone (shout-out to Dr. Dickerson) and René, we decided at this time for Jess to receive a small dose of Stadol so we could return home to rest. As the doctor mentioned, we had no idea how much longer we were going to be at this before we met our baby, and we wanted as much rest as we could get.  

After the exhausting trip home and an attempt to rest for a few hours (all night contractions + driving to/from hospital = very tired mama), Jess’s dulled contractions started to ramp back up. We tried to be as patient as possible before pulling the proverbial trigger on returning to the hospital. A round of increasing late afternoon and early evening contractions resulted in another undesirable ride to the hospital (there is no comfortable position for a laboring woman inside a car…).

The second arrival to the hospital around 11 p.m. (Dec. 29) only confirmed in both our minds that this was going to be our last ride in a car as a family of two. The admissions desk was now a familiar site with the assistance of René. However, our enthusiasm to get the show on the road was quickly dulled by the attending nurses news... Jess had only dilated to 1.5 cm. Thank goodness no-one told Jess the actual number. The hospital’s response was also familiar, encouraging us to go back home. I can only imagine the frustration my wife was dealing with in regards to laboring almost an additional 12 hours with no change in dilation. But then to have unfamiliar doctors essentially say, “Sorry, you have to be dilated at least this high to ride this ride” was disappointing to say the least.

This looming nightmarish episode was exactly why we were grateful to have a doula standing nearby. If only left to hearing the opinion of the attending nurse and doctor, we’d likely either been forced to drive back home again or Jess would have pulled a knife on some poor soul (and hopefully not me). Thanks to René’s experience dealing with typical hospital personnel, ability to calm clients like us, and the relationship with our OB doctor, we got a “phone-a-friend” second opinion, discussed options, pros and cons, and admittance to a delivery room. At this point, we had reached the 24 hour mark.  

One word comes to mind when I try to describe my wife’s mentality during the following 12 hours or so – determination. If it hadn’t been for her mental fortitude and the exceptional care of her OB doctor and doula, our goal of a natural childbirth would likely not have been realized.

The next 12 hours felt more like 12 days considering the lack of sleep and the adrenaline roller-coaster we’d been riding. If I was exhausted, I couldn’t imagine how Jess felt and how she had the strength to stand on her feet as long as she did (as standing in the shower was her favorite place considering the later known fact of experiencing heavy back-labor). Her determination to not give up (and likely just take drugs) kept me in the game, helping out however I could.

The hours progressed on and so finally did Jess when we agreed that the doctor should break her water. However, the excitement of graduating from 1.5 cm to 6 was short-lived, as we quickly learned the discouraging news that our son was OP (sunny side up - explaining all that back labor!).

Doula and doctor to the rescue! After a literal huddle of the brains, Jess was encouraged to try positions and techniques to help turn the baby (which was only possible considering she did not have an epidural). With a quick modification to the delivery bed and some movements that looked like an Olympic weightlifter practicing overhead squats, Jess had successfully turned the baby into a better position and continued to progress.

By this point, no level of enthusiasm from me or her could replace the lack of physical energy in Jess’s body (and more specifically, her uterus). Quick side note, I mention the following part of our story intentionally to highlight how not all aspects of the medical model of childbirth are evil (and why we desired to deliver at a hospital and not at home). Jess had been in labor now for over 30 hours and without any real sleep in more than 40. To satisfy my wife’s request to, “get this baby out of me”, her OB doctor recommended using Pitocin (contrary to our original birth plan) to give her uterus the extra “umph” it needed for pushing. This decision was a double-edged sword; the answer to speeding this process up came with the catch of increasing the pain (and no pain meds were allowed at this point considering the baby was in the birth canal). Jess’s human desire to be done seemingly overruled any notion of the increased pain. For the next two hours of pushing, Jess was surrounded by René, a team of cheerleader-like nurses, and her OB doctor doing his best to assist the process.  

At 2:00 p.m., our son Harrison was born. The reward was far greater than the pain (or so I’m told by my wife!). I am quite certain that no other experience will ever have such a positively dramatic impact on my life and the relationship I have with my wife. I am also quite certain that my experience would not have been nearly as positive if René wasn’t part of the overall process. My family is grateful that René assisted us and had such an influential impact on how Jess and I view labor and delivery. On our way to meeting our son through labor and delivery, we were forced to make decisions we did not originally intend but we felt well prepared for, thanks to René's natural birth classes. We were truly able to leverage the benefits of the medical community as well the benefits of our natural birth plan only because we had the navigational leadership of a doula in René working together with our OB doctor. I’m already looking forward to the next time we go through the whole nine month process again, hopefully soon (or maybe awhile longer if you ask Jess)!

Joshua Hogue