![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Yes, I had a c/s
Oct. 13th, 2005 02:20 amI'm pissed off and I'm hurt and I'm angry, and I'm ok with it, and I'm not. I'm writing this in the hospital and everything is still foggy as hell in my mind because I basically haven't slept in 4 nights. I came to my journal slightly irritated that someone even posted a birth announcement before I was ready to share the whole story, only to find that someone else started telling people about the surgery in my comments. It adds to this whole feeling of violation that I'm already suffering through as asshole nursery attendants tell us when we can and can't have OUR BABY, etc. Especially when I go to my friends page and I find angry rants blaming me for pre-determined failure.
I have been over this again and again, in my own head and with Grant, and I honestly don't feel I could have done anything differently than I did to change this outcome. I went into hard labor, with double-me-over contractions coming every 4-5 minutes, and it kept on all day and into the night. I was still only one centimeter dilated, though. So I tried to doze all night, waking to breathe through the contractions, but they were so close and so hard that if I let myself be woken up by the peaks, rather than building up to them and consciously relaxing myself, I felt as if I would lose control. I didn't understand why my contractions would hurt so terribly when my labor - being defined as 1 cm dilated - had only "barely started". The second night I stayed up all night - even trying to lay down was a joke - laying down was unbearable. They were coming every 3 minutes, constistently, the whole night. I would get nauseus if I ate, so I was also getting little in the way of nourishment...little bits of choked down protein. I went to the birth center to be checked - still 1 cm. At this point I felt like the biggest wuss in the world for not dealing better; I've always had such a high tolerance for pain. Shari, my midwife, who never pressured me to c/s or turned me away or allowed me to stay at the center with such little progress, told me to go home and try to relax. She was confused about my intense laboring with no results, too she could feel how hard my belly was getting and see how long the were lasting - the baby wasn't dropping at all, though, so pressure wasn't being applied to the cervix sufficiently. She was saying, maybe so many pregnancies and prior c/s, close together, had made my abs and uterus a little lax, allowing baby to kind of fall forward in my abdomen. She suggested using a fabric binding around my waist to hold him in close where the contractions would push him down, to squat, to do tailor sitting, and again to try to relax. She suggested wine and a warm bath. I went home that night hysterical because I hadn't slept at all in two night, had been scaring and neglecting the kids for two days, etc, and was still ONE CENTIMETER and not even a little effaced. Relaxing was starting to take major focus and concentration. But her suggestion - the binding - seemed to do something because that night as I kept feeling CRAZY pressure (like almost making me fall down) and my contractions were only two centimeters apart, ALL NIGHT LONG. Every so often I would get to where I couldn't stay on top of them, and would resort to moaning or whining and feeling out of control, and Grant would remind me to breathe, or I would remember, and I'd get control again, with the loud deep breathing. This is the night my water broke (night 3).
So I went back to the center, thinking, ok, this is it. And I was actually excited as hell to be 2 1/2 centimeters, even after 2 days and 3 nights of exhausting pain. They couldn't believe my contractions were really that close together; the student midwife on the phone said that it was impossible and I was timing them wrong, or they weren't all real. Screw that; they were real. I couldn't stay though, at that dilation. She did suggest we spend some time rocking on this bench swing they have, with the binding on (we did, for about an hour), to encourage dropping, or walking around the neighborhood close by, if that made us feel better.
Annnnyway...Grant and I spent a little while walking around Wal Mart with my water leaking everywhere. With my trying to stay on top of it, breathing, etc, every few steps and getting a lot of nervous glances. He kept telling me to imagine my cervix opening, imagine the head coming down, and I was. I said I wanted to rest in the van, but I couldn't hold my head up or my eyes open sitting down - which meant I was running into that problem of waking for peaks and feeling out of control without preparing during the buildup. I don't know how it would have been to stay home at this point - when I was home I was so concerned for the effect I was having on the children, and guilty for not being willing to nurse Isaac, and unable to be comfortable or have any privacy, in our living situation, that I was losing my mind there, too. I really don't know how to explain to you guys about the intensity of these contractions for THREE SOLID DAYS AND NIGHTS. It was worse than the second trimester miscarriage I had, worse than the aftermath of a c/s with no drugs for recovery (I did that for Aaron...my body splinted).
So then everything spiraled beyond me. I had 25 minutes of nonstop contractions - no breaks, just peaking over and over, and by 15 minutes in I was basically hysterical, and scaring the shit out of Grant. He had no idea what to do and I had this tremendous urge to go to the bathroom, to the point that I very nearly got out of the van and went in the parking lot. We ended up using a Firestone bathroom, but only after this time had passed, because during it I just could not choke out a word. In the bathroom, I saw meconium all over my pads (and soaking wet pants). Lots of it, really thick. Now I was so tired I couldn't think straight. Grant drove us to the birth center to talk to Shari, with me trying to stay awake and trying to breathe the whole way there. I sat forward on my seat so that my head would snap back up when it fell.
Obviously what I had just went through suggested transition...but I was still only 2 1/2 centimeters (this was afternoon - previous check in had been very early in the morning). Shari outlined some reasons why he might not be dropping - maybe he was too big, though that was unlikely and she had delivered a 10 pound 8 ounce baby herself, naturally. Maybe he was tangled in the cord, and it would be dangerous, though again, that was not the probable cause. Maybe he was not tolerating labor well, since it had already been so prolonged and he was passing stool. Or maybe he would just need some time to chill and come down really, really slowly, but could I handle that? I thought I could...but my head was rolling on my neck and I was having trouble following what she was saying. And she was stopping to let me get through another contraction every couple of minutes. She talked about informed risk and Big Brother (CPS) because though she would never presume to tell a parent what to do, she's currently fighting with the state over a baby who's parents' refused to accept antibiotics for GBS...She was just saying, I needed to understand that if I DID need to go to the hospital, later on, and it came out that I was vba3c'ing out of hospital for days on end, overdue, with my water broken and meconium in it at the end, they were going to REALLY be looking at me. I sat there feeling confused and trying to make sense of my options and Grant and I eventually decided that I was unravelling at the seems and that we would go to the hospital to get something non-spinal that would help me sleep for an hour or two so I could think straight and make good decisions. They could monitor the baby and make sure he wasn't in distress. The center would send someone with us to help "run interference" and we could go from there, when I woke up. I am ashamed to admit that committed though I was to totally drug free birth, a nap sounded like some sort of sweet decadent heaven at that point, and the only way I'd be able to keep my head. On the way to the hospital, Grant poured me a cup of grape juice and I fell asleep within 10 seconds and spilled it all over myself. Woke up to new liquid pouring all over me in a new place, fell back asleep so quickly that him chuckling woke me again, and then I was out, and then a contraction woke me...etc.
Shari had talked to him about standing up for me at the hospital because I was already doing all I could, but the first door I had to pass through to get in and fill out papers was guarded by a rude woman who pointed towards waiting rooms for non-patients and said he coudln't come in until I was done with triage. Arguing made no difference. Anyway, I found some sort of 37th wind and filled out papers and answered questions and peed in cups while panting and somewhat coherent. The nurse wanted to see how strong my contractions were - as soon as she put the monitor on my belly, she rushed me into another room to be checked and monitored because my contractions indicated "baby about to come out" - they were all the way at the top of the graph, peaking for 20 seconds or more, and there I was still 2 1/2.
Does anyone have any answers for WHY I would be contracting like that, one on top of the other, for days on end, when I had barely progressed? WTF is that about? Jake looked good on the monitor, though, and somehow they had missed my whole surgical delivery history when they pulled up my records. I ALMOST didn't bother to tell them, but then they asked outright, and I was honest, and the lady interviewing me actually RAN FROM THE ROOM to get help because they have hard contractions in a vba3c sitting here. They actually raised the sides of my bed with me arguing, talked over me and took me to a surgical prep room. It was only when I started raising my voice and saying "I AM NOT HERE FOR A C/S" that they started paying any attention to me. They tried to tell me Grant could come in as soon as I was prepped - I told them no way in hell was I consenting to anything without talking to him first, etc etc. There was one decent female OB on staff who talked to me like I was a person, and I outlined the problems and complications I'd had in my previos c/s, the research I had done, etc etc. She was sympathetic in a "these are our rules" way, and said that while I was free to refuse surgery, they were free to refuse me care, and once I had been turned away I couldn't come back. This is the most vbc-friendly hospital in my county, btw. So there I was....3 nights and almost 3 days into very intense labor....starting to lose my wind and feel the exhaustion again...at -3 station with 2 1/2 cm of dilation, a big ol baby in an empty sac with some meconium. And all of a sudden it was really clear to me that if I left, I was going to end up not having the option of hospital care as a back-up no matter how I wanted it. I was nearing the point where Shari would not even be able to help me, because I would be risking her center, legally. And I don't know if I had ever felt less capable of unassisted birth, or more like we were under the state's microscope. they refused to give me anything to let me sleep or an ultrasound to check on the cord, saying aiding a trial of labor in a vba3c was contraindicated for them.
So yeah, 8 hours later I had the section. No more progress, lots more maddening, debilitating contractions. Like, wa above there "100%" line. And even when checked right before they took me in for the surgery, for my records, I wasn't fully effaced, no more dropping, and only at barely maybe 4 cm.
I will be honest, though I am ashamed, and say that I have never been so relieved by morphine in my life.
THey made a huge to-do about the dangers of a fourth section, too, btw...I had to have TWO IVs, a spinal AND an epidural, transfusion blood on hand, yadayadayada, due to built up scar tissue making it a longer procedure. I was in too much pain and too far gone to be scared. I thought the hardest part of the c/s was being still through contractions as they did the spinal, under threat of paralysis. I was coherent for it, though, the baby came out crying and calmed quickly...he is BEAUTIFUL, somehow this one looks cuban :) Lots of black hair. He was very obviously late - no vernix at all, very very wrinkly, big as heck, the pooping he had done - but not suffering for it. They put him on my chest while they sewed me up, and then Grant held him for awhile, before they took him for their stupid tests, and I was greatful for that. Nursing is going wonderfully already, I'm engorged again. The kids are in love with him. I was scared today, because I have a hematoma (bruise, basically) with a swollen lump, where they did the anesthesia, and my legs were going numb a lot and someone came to talk with me about it. Also apparently my bladder is adherred to my scar tissue, so they had to be really careful to not rip or cut it. This horrifies me - the idea of a bag for my urine or something...luckily nothing came of that. Except having to spend THE WHOLE DAY struggling to pee for nurses who were threatening me with re-catheterization. Ugh.
Possibly the worse thing about this - aside from being treated like young, poor, ignorant unwed parents by everyone on staff - is that I would love more children, but feel so done with this crap. I really felt that if I vbac'd this time, it would be nothing to vbac everytime. But now...after 4, and this whole experience...I'll be thinking LONG and hard about getting pregnant again.
I am really happy to have learned all I did this pregnancy, to have done many of the things I did. My awesome birth center and midwife, and my own research, gave me the resources to have the healthiest, happiest and most attractive pregnancy by far that I've ever had. It was totally healthy and uncomplicated. Yellow dock kept my platelets up enough that I didn't need to have general anesthesia and could be awake to hold my baby right away. And having allowed my body to go into and stay in spotaneous labor for awhile, I knew my little boy was ready and he had none of the breathing problems that my scheduled repeat boys have had.
It's my new life's mission to make sure that my sister and my daughter never, ever have the first c/s.
The only thing I can think of that might have improved my chances - other than maybe millions of dollars for full time childcare and a hotel suite with scented candles, dim lights and a jacuzzi to help me relax - is stuff I'm not willing to consider. Like if I had induced earlier than I went into labor and used cervidil, maybe I would've softened up and dilated. Maybe he would've been smaller. Maybe I could've held on longer hooked up to an epidural from day 1 of real labor? I was unwilling to do any of those things, though, and still don't think they were a good idea. Shari reminded us that your uterus will go on working no matter how exhausted you are, and that women in comas can give birth. I don't know what to say to that...I feel like I really did all that I could. And I'm hostile to the birth center now, because I wanted that and it's just too damn bad, and I'm feeling defensive and angry towards LJ because I feel like I have to come and justify things, when it's hard enough to come to terms with it all myself. And so on. I don't want to be a harbinger of doom for any of you - none of the preggos on my list have a history of 3 cesareans in the past 5 years playing who knows what kind of hell with their body's natural functioning. As far as I can tell I had extremely intense, weird, wack-ass labor that did nothing whatsoever, until I could no longer bare it any longer.
I'm also in love with this baby, and with the sight of Isaac leaning over to kiss him. Here are 4 pictures, if you're interested. And I'm sorry, for any typos...I am too tired to proofread tonight and still haven't properly rested.
http://www.liqwid.org/pictures/jake01.jpg
http://www.liqwid.org/pictures/jake02.jpg
http://www.liqwid.org/pictures/jake03.jpg
http://www.liqwid.org/pictures/jake04.jpg
I have been over this again and again, in my own head and with Grant, and I honestly don't feel I could have done anything differently than I did to change this outcome. I went into hard labor, with double-me-over contractions coming every 4-5 minutes, and it kept on all day and into the night. I was still only one centimeter dilated, though. So I tried to doze all night, waking to breathe through the contractions, but they were so close and so hard that if I let myself be woken up by the peaks, rather than building up to them and consciously relaxing myself, I felt as if I would lose control. I didn't understand why my contractions would hurt so terribly when my labor - being defined as 1 cm dilated - had only "barely started". The second night I stayed up all night - even trying to lay down was a joke - laying down was unbearable. They were coming every 3 minutes, constistently, the whole night. I would get nauseus if I ate, so I was also getting little in the way of nourishment...little bits of choked down protein. I went to the birth center to be checked - still 1 cm. At this point I felt like the biggest wuss in the world for not dealing better; I've always had such a high tolerance for pain. Shari, my midwife, who never pressured me to c/s or turned me away or allowed me to stay at the center with such little progress, told me to go home and try to relax. She was confused about my intense laboring with no results, too she could feel how hard my belly was getting and see how long the were lasting - the baby wasn't dropping at all, though, so pressure wasn't being applied to the cervix sufficiently. She was saying, maybe so many pregnancies and prior c/s, close together, had made my abs and uterus a little lax, allowing baby to kind of fall forward in my abdomen. She suggested using a fabric binding around my waist to hold him in close where the contractions would push him down, to squat, to do tailor sitting, and again to try to relax. She suggested wine and a warm bath. I went home that night hysterical because I hadn't slept at all in two night, had been scaring and neglecting the kids for two days, etc, and was still ONE CENTIMETER and not even a little effaced. Relaxing was starting to take major focus and concentration. But her suggestion - the binding - seemed to do something because that night as I kept feeling CRAZY pressure (like almost making me fall down) and my contractions were only two centimeters apart, ALL NIGHT LONG. Every so often I would get to where I couldn't stay on top of them, and would resort to moaning or whining and feeling out of control, and Grant would remind me to breathe, or I would remember, and I'd get control again, with the loud deep breathing. This is the night my water broke (night 3).
So I went back to the center, thinking, ok, this is it. And I was actually excited as hell to be 2 1/2 centimeters, even after 2 days and 3 nights of exhausting pain. They couldn't believe my contractions were really that close together; the student midwife on the phone said that it was impossible and I was timing them wrong, or they weren't all real. Screw that; they were real. I couldn't stay though, at that dilation. She did suggest we spend some time rocking on this bench swing they have, with the binding on (we did, for about an hour), to encourage dropping, or walking around the neighborhood close by, if that made us feel better.
Annnnyway...Grant and I spent a little while walking around Wal Mart with my water leaking everywhere. With my trying to stay on top of it, breathing, etc, every few steps and getting a lot of nervous glances. He kept telling me to imagine my cervix opening, imagine the head coming down, and I was. I said I wanted to rest in the van, but I couldn't hold my head up or my eyes open sitting down - which meant I was running into that problem of waking for peaks and feeling out of control without preparing during the buildup. I don't know how it would have been to stay home at this point - when I was home I was so concerned for the effect I was having on the children, and guilty for not being willing to nurse Isaac, and unable to be comfortable or have any privacy, in our living situation, that I was losing my mind there, too. I really don't know how to explain to you guys about the intensity of these contractions for THREE SOLID DAYS AND NIGHTS. It was worse than the second trimester miscarriage I had, worse than the aftermath of a c/s with no drugs for recovery (I did that for Aaron...my body splinted).
So then everything spiraled beyond me. I had 25 minutes of nonstop contractions - no breaks, just peaking over and over, and by 15 minutes in I was basically hysterical, and scaring the shit out of Grant. He had no idea what to do and I had this tremendous urge to go to the bathroom, to the point that I very nearly got out of the van and went in the parking lot. We ended up using a Firestone bathroom, but only after this time had passed, because during it I just could not choke out a word. In the bathroom, I saw meconium all over my pads (and soaking wet pants). Lots of it, really thick. Now I was so tired I couldn't think straight. Grant drove us to the birth center to talk to Shari, with me trying to stay awake and trying to breathe the whole way there. I sat forward on my seat so that my head would snap back up when it fell.
Obviously what I had just went through suggested transition...but I was still only 2 1/2 centimeters (this was afternoon - previous check in had been very early in the morning). Shari outlined some reasons why he might not be dropping - maybe he was too big, though that was unlikely and she had delivered a 10 pound 8 ounce baby herself, naturally. Maybe he was tangled in the cord, and it would be dangerous, though again, that was not the probable cause. Maybe he was not tolerating labor well, since it had already been so prolonged and he was passing stool. Or maybe he would just need some time to chill and come down really, really slowly, but could I handle that? I thought I could...but my head was rolling on my neck and I was having trouble following what she was saying. And she was stopping to let me get through another contraction every couple of minutes. She talked about informed risk and Big Brother (CPS) because though she would never presume to tell a parent what to do, she's currently fighting with the state over a baby who's parents' refused to accept antibiotics for GBS...She was just saying, I needed to understand that if I DID need to go to the hospital, later on, and it came out that I was vba3c'ing out of hospital for days on end, overdue, with my water broken and meconium in it at the end, they were going to REALLY be looking at me. I sat there feeling confused and trying to make sense of my options and Grant and I eventually decided that I was unravelling at the seems and that we would go to the hospital to get something non-spinal that would help me sleep for an hour or two so I could think straight and make good decisions. They could monitor the baby and make sure he wasn't in distress. The center would send someone with us to help "run interference" and we could go from there, when I woke up. I am ashamed to admit that committed though I was to totally drug free birth, a nap sounded like some sort of sweet decadent heaven at that point, and the only way I'd be able to keep my head. On the way to the hospital, Grant poured me a cup of grape juice and I fell asleep within 10 seconds and spilled it all over myself. Woke up to new liquid pouring all over me in a new place, fell back asleep so quickly that him chuckling woke me again, and then I was out, and then a contraction woke me...etc.
Shari had talked to him about standing up for me at the hospital because I was already doing all I could, but the first door I had to pass through to get in and fill out papers was guarded by a rude woman who pointed towards waiting rooms for non-patients and said he coudln't come in until I was done with triage. Arguing made no difference. Anyway, I found some sort of 37th wind and filled out papers and answered questions and peed in cups while panting and somewhat coherent. The nurse wanted to see how strong my contractions were - as soon as she put the monitor on my belly, she rushed me into another room to be checked and monitored because my contractions indicated "baby about to come out" - they were all the way at the top of the graph, peaking for 20 seconds or more, and there I was still 2 1/2.
Does anyone have any answers for WHY I would be contracting like that, one on top of the other, for days on end, when I had barely progressed? WTF is that about? Jake looked good on the monitor, though, and somehow they had missed my whole surgical delivery history when they pulled up my records. I ALMOST didn't bother to tell them, but then they asked outright, and I was honest, and the lady interviewing me actually RAN FROM THE ROOM to get help because they have hard contractions in a vba3c sitting here. They actually raised the sides of my bed with me arguing, talked over me and took me to a surgical prep room. It was only when I started raising my voice and saying "I AM NOT HERE FOR A C/S" that they started paying any attention to me. They tried to tell me Grant could come in as soon as I was prepped - I told them no way in hell was I consenting to anything without talking to him first, etc etc. There was one decent female OB on staff who talked to me like I was a person, and I outlined the problems and complications I'd had in my previos c/s, the research I had done, etc etc. She was sympathetic in a "these are our rules" way, and said that while I was free to refuse surgery, they were free to refuse me care, and once I had been turned away I couldn't come back. This is the most vbc-friendly hospital in my county, btw. So there I was....3 nights and almost 3 days into very intense labor....starting to lose my wind and feel the exhaustion again...at -3 station with 2 1/2 cm of dilation, a big ol baby in an empty sac with some meconium. And all of a sudden it was really clear to me that if I left, I was going to end up not having the option of hospital care as a back-up no matter how I wanted it. I was nearing the point where Shari would not even be able to help me, because I would be risking her center, legally. And I don't know if I had ever felt less capable of unassisted birth, or more like we were under the state's microscope. they refused to give me anything to let me sleep or an ultrasound to check on the cord, saying aiding a trial of labor in a vba3c was contraindicated for them.
So yeah, 8 hours later I had the section. No more progress, lots more maddening, debilitating contractions. Like, wa above there "100%" line. And even when checked right before they took me in for the surgery, for my records, I wasn't fully effaced, no more dropping, and only at barely maybe 4 cm.
I will be honest, though I am ashamed, and say that I have never been so relieved by morphine in my life.
THey made a huge to-do about the dangers of a fourth section, too, btw...I had to have TWO IVs, a spinal AND an epidural, transfusion blood on hand, yadayadayada, due to built up scar tissue making it a longer procedure. I was in too much pain and too far gone to be scared. I thought the hardest part of the c/s was being still through contractions as they did the spinal, under threat of paralysis. I was coherent for it, though, the baby came out crying and calmed quickly...he is BEAUTIFUL, somehow this one looks cuban :) Lots of black hair. He was very obviously late - no vernix at all, very very wrinkly, big as heck, the pooping he had done - but not suffering for it. They put him on my chest while they sewed me up, and then Grant held him for awhile, before they took him for their stupid tests, and I was greatful for that. Nursing is going wonderfully already, I'm engorged again. The kids are in love with him. I was scared today, because I have a hematoma (bruise, basically) with a swollen lump, where they did the anesthesia, and my legs were going numb a lot and someone came to talk with me about it. Also apparently my bladder is adherred to my scar tissue, so they had to be really careful to not rip or cut it. This horrifies me - the idea of a bag for my urine or something...luckily nothing came of that. Except having to spend THE WHOLE DAY struggling to pee for nurses who were threatening me with re-catheterization. Ugh.
Possibly the worse thing about this - aside from being treated like young, poor, ignorant unwed parents by everyone on staff - is that I would love more children, but feel so done with this crap. I really felt that if I vbac'd this time, it would be nothing to vbac everytime. But now...after 4, and this whole experience...I'll be thinking LONG and hard about getting pregnant again.
I am really happy to have learned all I did this pregnancy, to have done many of the things I did. My awesome birth center and midwife, and my own research, gave me the resources to have the healthiest, happiest and most attractive pregnancy by far that I've ever had. It was totally healthy and uncomplicated. Yellow dock kept my platelets up enough that I didn't need to have general anesthesia and could be awake to hold my baby right away. And having allowed my body to go into and stay in spotaneous labor for awhile, I knew my little boy was ready and he had none of the breathing problems that my scheduled repeat boys have had.
It's my new life's mission to make sure that my sister and my daughter never, ever have the first c/s.
The only thing I can think of that might have improved my chances - other than maybe millions of dollars for full time childcare and a hotel suite with scented candles, dim lights and a jacuzzi to help me relax - is stuff I'm not willing to consider. Like if I had induced earlier than I went into labor and used cervidil, maybe I would've softened up and dilated. Maybe he would've been smaller. Maybe I could've held on longer hooked up to an epidural from day 1 of real labor? I was unwilling to do any of those things, though, and still don't think they were a good idea. Shari reminded us that your uterus will go on working no matter how exhausted you are, and that women in comas can give birth. I don't know what to say to that...I feel like I really did all that I could. And I'm hostile to the birth center now, because I wanted that and it's just too damn bad, and I'm feeling defensive and angry towards LJ because I feel like I have to come and justify things, when it's hard enough to come to terms with it all myself. And so on. I don't want to be a harbinger of doom for any of you - none of the preggos on my list have a history of 3 cesareans in the past 5 years playing who knows what kind of hell with their body's natural functioning. As far as I can tell I had extremely intense, weird, wack-ass labor that did nothing whatsoever, until I could no longer bare it any longer.
I'm also in love with this baby, and with the sight of Isaac leaning over to kiss him. Here are 4 pictures, if you're interested. And I'm sorry, for any typos...I am too tired to proofread tonight and still haven't properly rested.
http://www.liqwid.org/pictures/jake01.jpg
http://www.liqwid.org/pictures/jake02.jpg
http://www.liqwid.org/pictures/jake03.jpg
http://www.liqwid.org/pictures/jake04.jpg
