My beautiful son

On November 2nd at 2:07 am, Jack Oliver, was born.
My sweet baby was indeed a boy- my first intuition. A good sign to trust that first instinct in life!

Following is his birth story. Very detailed as I want to remember everything.

Jack’s Birth Story

My hope for this birth was to have a VBAC, go into labour naturally and experience as natural a birth as possible.

My due date was November 21st by ultrasound, and November 23rd by my last menstrual period.
At 4:00 am, November 1st, I woke up from strange dreams of having contractions and being uncomfortable. I let myself wake up thinking it was just dreams, until the next one came, followed by another about 10 minutes later. I kept thinking to myself, “these are not just uncomfortable, they are on the verge of painful”. Braxton hicks? I couldn’t be sure, but I wasn’t even officially full-term at that point, and I wasn’t really considering that this could be the beginning of labour. It couldn’t be, I was expecting to go late, possibly even into December as I had gone long overdue with Julia. I tried to go back to sleep but my mind was in full gear. I woke Jon up and told him what was going on, he was a little bit groggy but as soon as he saw me have a contraction he simply said, “This is it”. This sent me into a bit of a panic, nothing was ready. I had put off a thorough cleaning of the house thinking I had weeks to go, I hadn’t washed the baby clothes, hadn’t prepared the room, but most importantly I hadn’t let myself prepare mentally. I wasn’t ready in any aspect. I cried from feeling overwhelmed, Jon held me and rubbed my back with a gentle calmness about him. He smiled and reminded me that we were going to have a baby, possibly very soon, and nothing could be more exciting and beautiful. He gave me enough sanity to get out of bed and see if we could figure out if this was false labour or the real deal. I tried walking around to see if that stopped the contractions or slowed them down- no luck. I had some juice, and some granola and yogurt- still contracting. My final test was getting in the bath, which would surely stop it if it was indeed false labour. I was still having contractions about 9 minutes apart. I knew I should get some sleep, but I had lost any sense of being tired. Jon saw that I was starting to get anxious and he got straight to work doing the baby laundry, trying to tidy up the baby’s room, cleaning the bathroom, the kitchen, tidying up around the living room and trying to make up for weeks worth of nesting at 5 am. When I got out of the bath, I couldn’t help but do a more thorough cleaning of the bathroom. I still wasn’t sure I was in labour for real, I wasn’t convinced.
I sent my Mom a text message at about 7:30 am to let her know I was having contractions that were about 8-10 minutes apart, not necessarily regular- but painful. She told me she was going to make arrangements to fly out from Calgary with my Dad, and I told her to wait until I knew if I was in labour for sure or not. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, she told me she had just woken from a vivid dream and I’d had a boy. They were on their way.
I sent my doula, Patricia, a text message to let her know things might be taking off. She wrote back letting me know she was prepared and to keep drinking lots. I called Pomegranate to find out who which of my midwives was on call. It was Beth, but I was to page Amelia, the student midwife. I talked to Amelia for a minute and she said it sounded like early labour but it could go either way and we would just have to wait and see if things would peter off, or keep progressing. Beth phoned me a little while later and I was to call her when my contractions were 3 minutes apart (from beginning of one to beginning of the next), and lasting about a minute.
Julia woke up around 9:00 and Jon fed her breakfast and put on some cartoons for her. She was concerned when she saw me have a contraction, “you okay, Momma?” By this time I was breathing through them and couldn’t speak or walk until the contraction was over. My sister arrived at about 9:30 to take Julia. While they were getting ready to leave, my contractions stopped for about 30 minutes. This made me more sceptical of being in true labour. As soon as they left the contractions returned, and became very regular at 8 minutes apart. Things took off from this point and it was a matter of breathing through contractions and walking around the house trying to find little odd jobs to do to keep distracted. I didn’t have any appetite but when I finally felt a little craving for pizza from the night before I jumped on it and ate a piece.
At noon I had bloody show, and by about 2:00 pm it finally dawned on me that this baby was coming, there was no doubt about it. I wondered if it would be that same day, November 1st, or November 2nd. My Mom and Dad arrived shortly after this realization and things began to pick up a bit. Contractions were about 7 minutes apart and lasting a minute. I was feeling them growing in intensity and wondered what was yet to come.
It was later on at about 5 pm when my Mom sent Jon, my Dad and Julia out for dinner. I was sleeping in between contractions at that point. They didn’t go too far, just to Westview near our house. About 10 minutes after Jon left I felt anxious- I really needed him close to me. My Mom called and he ran all the way back from Westview. His face was really cold and he was breathing heavily from running. My amazing guy. He massaged me and helped me through the contractions. I decided it was definitely time to call Patricia and have her come, I needed the support.
She arrived shortly after while I was in the shower. The shower felt amazing, the relief it offered was just what I needed when I started to feel overwhelmed. Patricia turned the lights off and had a nice candle in the bathroom to create a serene mood. She offered to bring the birth ball into the shower for me to sit on and I agreed to give it a try. It helped tremendously. I was just bouncing on the ball with the hot water hitting my back. When the hot water ran out I got out and tried different positions to deal with the contractions as they became stronger. The birth ball was great. I was able to sit on a chair and sleep a little bit more between contractions, and from there it became very intense.
The contractions were very strong and long, I could feel the baby being hugged tightly and knew it was getting closer. I was surprised by how powerful the contractions were, not just the pain of them, but knowing they were doing the work needed to be done. My body had taken over; a new sense of my own self had emerged. It was a very intense, spiritual realization. I went in the shower again until the hot water ran out again. By the time the contractions were 3 minutes apart from beginning of the first to the beginning of the next I became fearful. Patricia was very wise in finding the root of the fears and exploring them carefully. It wasn’t that I could not tolerate the pain, I was fearing what was yet to come. I was very anxious about the car ride to the hospital. Not a fear of giving birth in the car, but of the pain and how I would deal with it while in the restrictions of the car. We called Beth and tried to decide if she would come to the house first or meet us at the hospital. I had wanted to stay at home as long as possible in labour. With contractions 3 minutes apart and because of my anxiety of the car ride we decided to go and meet Beth at St. Paul’s. We called my Mom to come back to the house and drive us; she had gone for dinner to give us some time at home. She arrived and Jon loaded the car with the hospital bag packed that morning and the cord blood kit. Patricia came in the car with us. We left the house just before 10 pm.
I got in the car and Patricia had me go on all fours in the back seat to see if that helped through contractions. The car ride was very difficult and felt very long. I was having back-to-back contractions and they were very intense. I felt like I was going to panic, it was quite a long drive from our house even though the timing worked out perfectly with traffic. A Sunday night at 10 pm was optimal for getting to the hospital as quickly as possible. Patricia switched me into a sitting position at the edge of the seat in the car. That helped a bit but was still very uncomfortable. When we arrived at the Emergency entrance I got out of the car, had a contraction, walked into the ER, had a contraction, sat in a wheelchair, had a contraction. They were right on top of each other. We got up to the Maternity ward and I was grateful to have taken the hospital tour earlier so I felt familiar with where I was. Beth was waiting for us as soon as we got there. She took me into an assessment room and checked my vitals, and to see how dilated I was. I was at 4 cm. I felt a little discouraged but was in a deep concentration and didn’t really register the information. They had to wait on something, I can’t remember what exactly, but I was promised the shower and jet tub in the room we were waiting for. That got me through the few minutes of waiting. When the room was ready I walked over, one contraction against the wall and felt a trickle of water down my leg. My water had broken. Right away the contractions became much stronger and closer together. They turned the shower on to fill up the tub and give me some relief at the same time. When the tub was filled I sat down and didn’t find as much relief as I’d hoped. They contractions were right on top of each other. The on-call resident OB came in and talked to me about fetal monitoring, I had to sign a waiver saying I declined it although I knew the risks associated with a VBAC. Then they put in a saline lock as a precaution. I was in so much pain in the bath tub and started to panic. I asked for an epidural. Patricia kept talking me down very gently and encouraged me with how far I’d gotten and what a good job I was doing. She told me she had seen a lot of women in labour and I was handling it very, very well relative to a lot of women. I asked again, a little more franticly this time. Beth went over the risks and effects of the epidural again and told me the procedure that would need to take place before I could get one. It would be a long wait and I was already dealing with the contractions well. She offered me the gas and I declined. My rationalizing was that it was all or nothing for the pain. I wanted the epidural. Beth asked me to try the gas before we went for an epidural. I agreed. I tried it, didn’t even use it through one contraction and told them to get it away from me. That didn’t do anything for me except make me feel more nauseous. I needed to breathe through the contractions and the gas made it impossible to do that effectively. I was really becoming frantic again and needed to get out of the bath. I felt like I couldn’t handle any more. They got me up on the bed and Beth checked me again. 5 cm dilated. I felt like I was going to throw up. All that echoed in my head was “approximately 1 hour for each centimetre dilation”. I asked again for the epidural. They told me they had to put the fetal monitor on for 20 minutes and get the blood work back before I could even speak to the an anaesthesiologist about an epidural. I had no choice either way but to work through the contractions for the time being. I let them put the fetal monitor on. The contractions were right on top of each other, I was barely getting any break in between. I couldn’t believe the intensity and power behind them. I was very frightened of still having 5 hours of increasing pain to get through. I knew I was at my limit, I couldn’t go further. I was switching positions trying to work through contractions and they just kept coming one right after the other, stronger and stronger. I felt like I was going to throw up, I suddenly became extremely nauseated and my body started shaking. Then I felt something different, my body pushed. I told Patricia I felt strong pressure like I needed to have a bowel movement. She watched me for a minute and then informed Beth that I was indeed pushing. I thought that was the end of my VBAC dream. I had heard of so many women who pushed too soon without control and had ended up with a c-section because their cervix became swollen and the baby couldn’t pass down the birth canal. Beth was so calm and told me it was okay, told me to let my body do what it needed to do. “Push if you need to push.” She checked me once again and was very surprised to say I was 10 cm. Everyone was shocked. From 5-10 in just under an hour. This explained the intensity of my labour at the end, why I was feeling like I couldn’t handle more, but in beautiful perspective my body truly had only given me what I could handle. Beth told me she really didn’t think I needed the epidural, I was ready to push. I said SCREW THE EPIDURAL, I’m going to have this baby! The pushing contractions were much more tolerable and felt productive. They brought in the squatting bar and I tried pushing a bit with it. It wasn’t very comfortable for me in that position and I moved to a standing position against the bed. My legs were very shaky and I felt like I just wanted to sit on the toilet. It worked for awhile to just sit there in the dark and push with the contractions. Everyone was so calm and quiet, it was a very serene environment and that helped me to stay calm and keep going. I got back on the bed and found the best pushing position to be on my side with my legs held up, or on my back. The pushing process is a blurry memory, I was really in a zone. My Mom was there, sitting in the room quietly. I could look at her for reassurance and no words were needed. Her love was unspoken and helped me through to the end. When I felt the baby descending I could really push more effectively and things started to go a little faster. Beth would put her hand on the baby’s head and tell me to push her hand away. I could feel the head moving down more with each hard push at the end of the contraction. They offered the mirror so I could see the progress but I declined knowing it wasn’t what I needed to get to the end. Jon held my hand and I squeezed it through the pushes. He had one leg and Patricia held the other up. They told me I could feel the head and I did. My sweet baby’s head was soft and warm, squishy and I could feel the hair. I kept pushing and felt the burning start as the head crowned. Beth coached me through it with breathing and pushing instruction and soon the little head was out. I looked at Jon and I saw the absolute love and adoration on his face as he watched his child being brought into the world. He kept telling me he loved me and encouraging me. He quickly switched positions with my Mom and she held my hand for the final pushes. At 2:07 am on November 2nd, 2009 Jon caught the baby as it slid out of me. I will never forget the look on his face. He held the baby tummy down and lifted gently into the air, “Its a boy, Kira, he’s a boy!” They brought my sweet baby boy right onto my bare chest and I held his warm little body against mine. He was crying gently as they rubbed him with a cloth and he took his first breaths. “Hi Jack,” I said. “I love you.” It was beautiful. Euphoric. Everything I ever imagined and more. I was reassured instantly that I could love this baby boy as much as my first, he was perfect.
Jack found his way to my breast by himself and latched beautifully on his first try when he was ready.
There was such little interference with everything about his birth. I was able to let my body do it, and let Jack do what he needed to do. I felt so blessed to have such an amazing birth team. They were truly inspirational and made my birth experience so amazing. Every single person in the room had helped me bring my son into the world. My amazing husband whom I fell in love with even more through this experience. My Mother whose love I felt in the room the whole time without any words, witnessing her first birth- her first grandson, I am forever her baby. Beth- my midwife, a strong woman and so wise and calm; a true advocate of birth as a natural process. Patricia- my doula, a very maternal, gifted and beautiful woman who knew how to keep me focused and feel safe. The nurse was great as well, supported my birth wishes and worked beautifully with Beth- I wish I remembered her name.
Jack Oliver Farrell Simons was born November 2nd, 2009 at 2:07 am. He weighed 6 lbs 14 oz, was 19.5 inches, had a head full of brown hair and grey/blue eyes.
3 weeks early. 22 hours from the very first contraction to the birth of my beautiful son. 4-10 centimetres in 2 hours, 2 hours of pushing. No tears. A natural birth, a successful VBAC. We were home by 2:00 pm the same day, 12 hours after Jack was born. I wanted to be at home with my family. I wanted a natural birth, to go into labour naturally and for my baby to be born the way nature intends. Jack’s birth was exactly what I wanted it to be. It was so beautiful.