Chaney’s Birth Story

Okay you guys have waited long enough and it’s time to spill! When I got pregnant one phrase I kept seeing come up in articles and mom groups was “birth plan.” I soon learned that I had the power to make my delivery experience exactly what I wanted… Sounds too good to be true, but I made one anyway. 

My birth plan went something like this: Load me up with ALL the drugs (lord knows I’m NOT tough when it comes to pain) – then I’ll pop this little human out, spend the night in the hospital and go home the next morning. WRONG! Let’s all laugh together and naive little Jena. (I’m laughing too.) 

My due date was New Years Eve. In a perfect world I would have had my baby sometime before 2020 started, you know, because insurance deductibles and tax reasons. Don’t judge. My due date came and went. Believe me when I say – I tried EVERYTHING to get her out. I ate all the spicy food, I walked miles upon miles, I got the shit kicked out of my back by the chiropractor, spend a stupid amount of money on essential oils, and yes, I tried that too. (wink wink) Nothing worked! 

Since our baby was “Fashionably late” – I had to be induced. This was the last thing that I wanted. We went in to start the process 7 days after her due date, it was a Tuesday, at 5am. The beginning of the induction process was fairly boring, Trevor and I pretty much sat around all day, watched tv, visited friends and family, and ate lots of snacks. Oh, and I bounced on a ball, ALL. DAY. LONG. Our sweet sister in law brought us a Nintendo so we took a trip down memory lane and played Super Mario Brothers for hours, yes the original one – turns out I’m still really good at it. 

At about 9pm – shit got real, real fast. We went from 0 to 100 in a matter of minutes. The contractions hit me like a herd of elephants trampled over my uterus. I didn’t care how much or how little I was dilated, I wanted that epidural NOW. My nurse told me he’d tell the front desk to call Dr. Feel Good (Anesthesia) in a bit. I said: No, NOW. I didn’t care if it would make my labor last longer, I’m a huge weenie when it comes to pain – call him NOW! (I believe if he were to retell the story he’d say my exact words were, “you call him f***ing NOW!”) 

I’m pretty sure it was only a few minutes later, but it felt like an hour – Dr. Feel Good arrives with the happy juice. Thank the good lord for whoever invented epidurals! From here – I can’t tell you exact times, but things went like this: 

Jena pushed the epidural button about every 30 seconds. 

At some point my water broke.

And then it was time to start pushing that baby out. 

I pushed. 

And pushed. 

And pushed. 

And pushed some more. 

After a few hours of pushing, it was determined that our baby girl was “sunny side up” – not the easiest position to get out, especially when your herd sire is a bulldogger. While I kept trying, my doctor told the nurses to get everything ready for a C-Section just in case. This was when the panic set in. I did NOT want a C-Section. The most major surgery I’ve ever had was getting my wisdom teeth out, and that’s NOTHING compared to getting a baby cut out of your stomach. I was absolutely terrified, so I tried as hard as I could to push my baby out, but no luck. Time for a C-Section. I felt so defeated, and scared. I bawled my freakin’ eyes out as they rolled me out of the delivery room, passed all my family, into the surgery room. It was awful. 

As the team in surgery prepared for my C-Section, I demanded music. Really Jena? Yes, I’m a diva. I didn’t care what it was, but I needed music. I couldn’t stand the thought of hearing any sort of cutting, or sloshing or anything that was going on inches behind that sheet in front of my face. I’ll never forget it – Dr. Feel Good started playing Kenny Chesney, what a champ. I still owe him a plate of cookies… 

A few minutes went by, and we heard the first screams from our baby girl! The first thing Trevor said to me was “yay, she’s fat!” All we wanted was a fat, healthy baby! I guess eating multiple desserts a day for the last 9 months paid off. Soon they brought her over to meet us, she was perfect! “Thank God this is over” I thought. Now stitch me the F up and get me out of here. But it wasn’t that simple. Apparently in the midst of trying to get our baby out, my bladder got nicked. (This actually isn’t uncommon. I’ve only told a handful of people this story, and so far I know 3 other people that have had this happen to them – all had c sections at different hospitals.) Trevor took our baby out to meet our family while I got stitched back up. 

Fixing my bladder wasn’t quick and easy by any means. It took hours. Hours of my family sitting in the recovery room with our little girl who at this time still didn’t have a name because Trevor and I had planned to name her upon “meeting” her. I can’t imagine how worried they all were. I think it was around 5pm I finally emerged from surgery and got to hold little miss Chaney James Knowles who weighed in at 8lbs 10 oz. 

We’ve had a lot of people ask about her name – first it’s pronounced Chay-nee. Why Chaney? We wanted something somewhat unique, but still normal. Trevor actually wanted to name her Janey, that was his favorite name all along. I’m not sure why but I couldn’t get behind it. Her middle name James is Trevor’s middle name. We loved the mix of feminine & masculine names. 

If you’ve been here a while, you might remember when I posted about my “pee bag.” (I know, I’m such a proper lady.) Due to the bladder injury in surgery, I had to have a catheter for twelve days while I healed up. I can’t even tell you how big of a pain in the ass that was. I just had a c-section so getting up and moving around was hard enough, but tack on having to pack a drain bag everywhere… Fun times! 

You’d think after all I went through I’d be rather traumatized and never want to have another baby, but surprisingly I’m not really phased by all that, looking back. I’d go through it all over again for our sweet little babe! Next time though – I’m not doing the induction thing. I’m scheduling my c-section and getting it over with! 

I hope my story doesn’t scare anyone who hasn’t had a baby. In the grand scheme of things it wasn’t that bad, and our baby was born healthy! That’s all that matters! I always remind myself it could have been way worse, and you know what? Shit happens!

‘‘Love exists somewhere between a girl pretending she can't open a jar of pickles and a boy pretending not to know she could.”

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