Micah's Birth Story

I AM BACK! After somewhat of a maternity leave from the blog, I am back and sharing my birth story!! My birth experience is unique to my family and I – no ones story is more beautiful or identical to another. Sharing our experiences is healing and connects us on deeper level as we might find pieces of another story that resonates with our. If reading Micah’s birth story is outside of your comfort zone, you will not offend me if this is where you stop reading. I hope to keep this post raw, authentic, and safe if others feel inclined to share. And so, the story begins… As most pregnant women do during the last month of pregnancy, I saw our OB weekly to see how we were progressing toward delivering our baby. On Monday, February 4th, 2019, we met with our OB and was informed I was 2-3 cm dilated and more than halfway effaced. I informed my doctor that I wasn’t experiencing many contractions compared to the week before. He informed me that I was progressing and I might not be feeling the light contractions, only the strong ones. We were less than a week away from our due date of February 9th, and our OB asked us to visit him again in the next four days if I was still pregnant. We were given all of the symptoms to watch for – contractions lasting one minute in duration, five minutes apart, lasting for at least an hour. Our OB said if I am in a lot of discomfort and feel as though I am going into labor, I can always go to the hospital sooner and they can check me. Trevor and I left the appointment feeling excited and well prepared for the days that would come ahead. Little did we know, we would be embarking on the labor process in a few hours…not days. Trevor and I had a normal evening on Monday night. We made dinner, sat down to relax and spend some quality time together on the sofa, and went to bed at our normal 9pm time (yes, we go to bed early). Two o’clock in the morning rolled around and I woke up feeling the strongest contraction I experienced (yet). Trevor instantly woke up and asked if I was okay as I sat up and started breathing through the discomfort. I informed him after the wave passed that it was just one contraction and I brushed it off and wanted to go back to sleep. A little bit later, another contraction started; I sat up quickly and started to breath through it. Trevor asked if I was okay and if I should start timing how far apart my contractions were. I still brushed it off and said, “it’s no big deal, they are not that close together so I don’t need to time them.” A little bit later, another contraction came and went and Trevor insisted we start to time them to see how far apart and the intensity of the contractions. Part of me didn’t want to start timing them as I was still in denial he was coming today, but I gave in and did as Trevor wished. I pulled up the pregnancy application and opened the contraction timer in case any more contractions surfaced. I was in the mindset that nothing more would happen and the application would just remain open until we woke up – I was quickly proven wrong (thanks universe). Another strong contraction came and went as we quickly pressed play to start the contraction timer. I wasn’t sure how to rate the contractions because I knew in my mind they would get strong, but each contraction was more painful than the last, so I did my best to “rate” their intensity level. By the time I was able to consciously analyze the strength of the contraction, another started, and then another, and another. My contractions were ten minutes apart and I was still thinking there is no way this baby is coming. At this time, around 4am on February 5th, 2019, Trevor was wide awake, had his light on, and told me he was not going into work. I remember turning him and saying, “they are not that bad, you should go to work and I will let you know if they get worse and closer together.” My husband knows me better than that and met me halfway by saying “I can work from home today and be here for you in case we need to go into the hospital. I am not leaving you as you won’t call me if the contractions get bad.” At thirty-nine weeks and four days pregnant, Micah decided it was time to make his arrival.

As each wave of a contraction came I was sitting up on the bottom edge of our bed, breathing and bouncing.

I heard of women using a ball to bounce on and for some reason bouncing on the edge of our bed felt like the movement my body needed during these intense sensations – so I listened.

It was now around 4:30am when my contractions were at seven to eight minutes apart. I tried to lay down between contractions, but it felt as though when I was fully at the bottom of one wave, trying to lay down, another one would surface.

So instead of bouncing on the bed when a contraction occurred now, I felt the need to physically get up, walk around, and at the top of the wave, I was gripping a wall with my eyes clenched shut trying to ride the feeling out.

At around 5am, Trevor told me, “I am going to start to bring our hospital bags downstairs. Do you want to try to take a shower before we leave?”

I responded that we weren’t having a baby today and that the contractions were going to slow down and stop.

Trevor, again, knew better. He was in my closet grabbing our bags and the list of last minute items we needed pack in order to drive into the hospital.

As Trevor was running up and down our stairs with our bags, I was still in our bedroom, in denial, contracting away.

When Trevor had all of our bags downstairs, he came back upstairs to find me, between contractions, laying in our bed.

He calmly approached me and said “Jenny, do you want to shower before we go into the hospital to have Micah?”

Tears started rolling down my face as I responded “I can’t do this. I cannot have our baby, I am so scared and it hurts so bad. I cannot do this Trevor.”

He brushed away my tears and told me “you can do this, let’s go downstairs and you can have a quick shower before we leave for the hospital. I’ll be with you the entire time.”

We went downstairs, contractions still around seven to eight minutes apart.

I turned the water on warm and instantly felt relief.

I was in the shower for five minutes when Trevor asked how I was doing. I told him the contractions were better and I was feeling good.

My contractions did not stop when I was in the shower, they seemed to get lighter and more tolerable than the previous ones.

Another five minutes went by and I was still in the shower. Trevor told me he was going to start loading the bags into the car and he wanted me to finish my shower and be ready to go soon.

I stayed in the shower for another ten minutes, totaling a twenty minute shower.

As I got out, Trevor was standing there and asked how I was doing. I told him I felt pretty good and that’s when the contractions ramped up in intensity and frequency.

Trevor was in charge of timing them as I attempted to get ready.

My contractions went from seven or eight minutes apart to four or five minutes apart.

Trevor’s tone turned from suggesting for me to get ready to demanding I get ready and in the car.

I remember still walking around through each wave of sensation and pausing at a wall jaw, eyes, and now fist clenched. There might have been a few choice words at this point too as they were the strongest contractions I had felt.

The last thing I remember doing in our house around 5:30am before heading to the hospital was sitting on the sofa as Trevor approached me, knelt down, placed his hand in my leg and said in the most loving but stern voice “Jenny, when this contraction ends, I am going to need you to be as productive as possible and get into the car.”

When the contraction ended, I slowly made my way to our car to be taken into the hospital.

Our travel time to the hospital was maybe fifteen minutes, Trevor and I had planned our route and driven it several times. But this time, when we were really going in to deliver our son, it felt like hours.

We hit every red light, every pot hole, and there seemed to be traffic in Sheboygan Wisconsin (which is not a thing).

In the car I was no longer timing my contractions as I was too busy breathing through them and throwing my gloves and hat off – I started to feel really warm and I was not thinking of etiquette during these surges of sensations.

We arrived at the hospital around 6am on February 5th, 2019. We luckily got a rockstar parking spot so Trevor and I were able to walk in together.

When we got to the check in desk, there was a couple speaking to the receptionist to get admitted.

The woman in the pair turned to Trevor and I and said in the most upbeat, cheerful voice “oh my goodness, are you having a baby? We should have let you go in front of us.” And she turned around and continued talking to the receptionist.

A profanity laced response brewed internally as we waited our turn, mid contraction, trying to stay level headed.

We were admitted to the hospital and I was placed in room 225. I should have known my son would be born on 2/5 just by looking at the room number, but as we entered, I wasn’t sure how long we were going to be here in labor.

Trevor threw his backpack down and helped me into the hospital gown.

I walked over to the bed and laid down as the nurse came in and hooked up the necessary vital monitors. As she did this, she explained she was our nurse and would be taking care of us. I instantly felt safe in her car and she assured us everything was going to be okay.

Around 7:30am, I was 6cm dilated and our nurse (who will remain nameless for her privacy) called our OB to come in and meet with us.

Trevor held my hand, watching the contraction monitor draw hills and he reminded me to breath. We had our birth plan thought out well before now, but I did not feel the need for an epidural (yet).

Our OB came in around 8:30am and said “So we are having a baby today?” Trevor and I adore our OB and he walked us through what to expect moving forward. As he was there, he informed me he was going to break my water. The biggest sigh of relief came from me as I felt an immense amount of pressure released from my body.

Our OB advised us our nurse will be here to answer any question and to call him when it’s go time.

A short while after he left my contractions got more intense. At the height of my contractions I felt as though my body was convulsing, everything got so painful my ears could only hear the sound of my heart beating and my short rapid breaths. I felt as though I had no recovery time between contractions, as one ended another, stronger one started.

My mantra during labor was: breathe, ride the wave, and be one with Micah – we are working together to deliver him safely.

At around 9:30am the nurse came in and was talking with Trevor. I had just finished with a contraction and heard her say politely to him, “She’s still around 6-7cm dilated and I think she’s doing great.”

A deep voice emerged from me, unlike my normal voice and I budded in and responded “no!!! I am not doing great!” The pain was overwhelming and I later apologized profusely to our nurse for such an impolite response.

Our nurse came by my side and explained our options. She never told us what to do and always made sure we were well informed before making a decision that was best for our family. I told her I wanted the epidural because I could no longer handle these contractions on my own.

We were told by dear friends to try and go to the bathroom before the epidural is given as everything from the waist down goes numb, and, well, stuff sometimes happens.

The nurse and I went into the bathroom together before the anesthesiologist came in. I remember asking to hold her hand while I was breathing through contractions. She would rub my back and tell me I was doing great.

Her and I exited the room and what felt like moments later, the anesthesiologist was there prepping me for the epidural.

I sat on the side of the bed, as I felt him pressing into my spine with his fingers. When he found the correct vertebrae, I heard him say he was going to prep me and input the needle. The only thing I remember was a cold sensation and a light pinch. I have had two spinal taps before so I was not sure if this would be worse, but I didn’t feel much of anything.

I laid back down while still feeling the waves as they washed over me. My breath was the only thing that seemed to keep me anchored and I continued my mantra.

The epidural began to do its job, but something that I didn’t expect was I still felt the contractions. For some reason I thought I would feel nothing at all, but this sensation was more tolerable and I could mentally be present and even hold conversations with Trevor.

At 10:30am, the nurse checked me and informed us I was at 10cm. She proceeded to call our OB and tell him to come deliver baby Tanck as I was fully ready. While we waited for the OB to get back to the hospital our nurse prepared Trevor and I for pushing.

She took one leg, bending it at the knee, and Trevor held the other. Yup, Trevor was south of the border the entire time, talk about a champ!!

The nurse guided us through pushing, asking me to bear down and move the baby downward.

When a contraction would start, she would tell me to push for ten seconds on and rest for ten seconds and continue that until the contraction ended.

The nurse told Trevor and I that “I was the most stoic first time mom she had seen in awhile.” I took that as a compliment as we continued our journey to deliver Micah.

At 11am, we were still pushing, waiting for our OB, when the nurse said “We are starting to see his head, he has hair!” After seeing his head the nurse asked me to do “baby pushes”, not pushing as hard but keeping Micah in place as we wait for the OB to fully deliver him.

Around 11:10am our OB came into the room, threw on a gown, asked Trevor for the wheely chair, and assessed how we were doing. He gave me clear instructions when he said push, I push, and when he tells me to stop, I stop.

It felt like milliseconds, one moment he was telling me to push, and then he very firmly said “stop” so I did exactly that.

Trevor later told me that as our OB was telling me to stop, it was because the umbilical cord was wrapped around Micah’s neck and he quickly removed it.

The very next second he told me to push again and all I remember is the feeling of Micah leaving me and being birthed into the world.

We heard him give out an instantaneous cry. I looked up at Trevor who was looking down at our son with one tear rolling down his cheek.

I didn’t see Micah yet but felt our lives evolving.

They handed me this little being and I was in awe – for the birthing process, for the medical staff, for my husband, and now, of our son.

The little being I was growing for the last ten months was here, out in the open for me to share.

Gazing down at my son, placing him on my chest, feeling his little heartbeat against mine, my husbands forehead pressing against my temple, I felt whole. Thank you so much for reminiscing with us on our journey of growing and delivering our wonderful Micah man!