Birth Story - Part II

I apologize for how long it took me to get the second part of my birth story up. I really struggled with this post. I didn't realize the depth of my emotions until I started writing, and while the writing process has been cathartic, I struggled with the idea putting my emotions out there for everyone to read. As I wrote and dealt with my feelings, I did alot of editing, and finally decided to post. I hope my story helps you to better understand what happened to me, as well as how I've come to terms with my (unnecessary) cesarean.

This post is a continuation of Part I of my birth story, which can be found here.

Coming to Terms with Happened:

If you know me, or you've been reading my blog for very long, you probably realize how much I desire to live as naturally as possible. I'm a fan of chiropractic care, I regularly take herbs, and I avoid medicines as much as possible. So to say that my birth didn't go as planned, would be a huge understatement. I had a certain vision in my head of how birth would go. I envisioned a normal, vaginal delivery with no drugs. I knew that a natural birth would be better for me, but more importantly, for my baby. I was deeply afraid of the pain, so I did go into it with the knowledge that I could turn to the drugs if I couldn't handle the pain.

I remember learning about the cascade of interventions (i.e. one intervention leads to another, which leads to another, etc, finally ending in a cesarean) during our hospital birth classes, I just never imagined that the cascade would hit me. I never imagined that I would become a statistic in the 32.9% cesarean rate. And further, I never realized just how much I would be affected by my cesarean.

In the hospital, I remember having a general feeling of disappointment in the way that my son's birth played out. I was disappointed in my body for not being able to safely bring my son into the world. I felt like a failure for having to resort to a surgical procedure to remove him from my body, and I was disappointed in myself for not being strong enough to deliver him. I was envious of the friends around me who were experiencing normal deliveries. I was thankful for my healthy baby, of course, but I couldn't shake the disappointment. I did my best to move on from the experience, and I took comfort in the fact that my cesarean had been a necessary procedure to save my baby's life. He could have died had they not been able to remove him when they did.

When I went in for my 6 week postpartum visit, I sat down with my doctor to discuss what had happened. I had been told in the hospital that the baby wasn't handling contractions well and that the cord was most likely wrapped around his neck which was leading to the heart decelerations. When the doctor reviewed the surgical report, he told me that there hadn't really been a cause. The cord was not around his neck, and the heart decels were "just one of those things that can happen." I brought up the idea of a VBAC (or vaginal birth after a cesarean). I had been encouraged when I found out that the old idea of "once a cesarean, always a cesarean" didn't necessarily hold water anymore. Unfortunately, my doctor dismissed the idea rather quickly by saying that it was far too dangerous and that he doesn't perform them. He went on to tell me that they used to do them all the time, but stopped when they started losing too many mommies and babies. I left the appointment feeling absolutely crushed. All along I had been under the impression that my cesarean had been necessary to save my baby's life. And that there would be a medical reason to explain why my body had failed. I had been clinging to the hope that my next delivery could go the way that I had originally intended. I left his office, and quickly headed to my car before breaking down into sobs. My poor husband, who had come with me to the appointment for support, was so confused as to what was going on. I did my best to explain in between sobs, and in the next few months, I tried to move on from my experience. I did my best to deal with the fact that I would never get to experience a natural birth.

So What Actually Happened?:

When Shepard was around 9 months old, my husband and I started thinking and praying about when to start trying for another baby. I had been researching birth options for months by this point, and had discovered the ICAN (International Cesarean Awareness Network) website where I had initially learned how VBAC's were indeed safe, and that they carried less risk to the mother and baby than a repeat cesarean. I also learned that my doctor's argument against them was based on old research from a time with VBAC patients were induced with strong drugs that made contractions too intense for a scarred uterus. I began to get cautiously optimistic that I could birth naturally. Luckily, right around the time that I became pregnant with this baby, the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists (ACOG) released a policy statement that said VBAC's are a safe and reasonable option for most women.

Early on in my pregnancy, I decided to watch Ricki Lake's documentary The Business of Being Born. I had heard glowing reviews that it offered a true picture of birth in America. I was contemplating my birth options at this point, and thought it would be a great starting place. I had attempted to watch it during my first pregnancy, but had quickly turned it off because I felt like it wouldn't apply to me. I decided to give the documentary a second chance because I had seen it referenced so often in my research. When I finally sat down to watch it, I broke down during this scene:

It described exactly what had happened to me. It seems silly to say, but watching this scene was a life-changing moment for me. I rewound it and watched it several more times before finishing the film. It was at this point that I realized that my body hadn't failed me at all - it was the medical system that had failed me (and my baby). It was like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I had been carrying around all of this guilt and shame, and here was my explanation as to what happened - finally!

My cesarean was caused by a cascade of interventions - the first intervention being the pitocin, which lead to artificial, excruciating contractions, which lead to me caving and receiving the epidural, which slowed down labor and lead to even more pitocin, which ultimately put too much strain on my baby and put him in distress, resulting in the "need" for a cesarean. All of those months I had spent blaming myself and my body for what had happened - and to learn that it hadn't been me at all -I felt enormous relief. And then I was mad. I was tweeting my thoughts while watching the documentary, and so many of my followers shared similar stories with me. While comforting to know that I wasn't alone, it made me even more angry to know that women are constantly put through these experiences. I was mad at the medical profession for relying so heavily on interventions that don't necessarily produce the best results. I felt anger towards my doctor for allowing this to happen to me. I had trusted him with my body, my health, and with the health of my baby. I felt taken advantage of - because he had taken that trust and pushed interventions on me when he knew how important a normal birth was to me. I began to question his reasoning for having me on pitocin in the first place. Why was I given a drug to speed up labor when I was progressing without it? Why was the pitocin increased so often? And further, why was the pitocin increased after my son's heart rate dropped the first time? Why was I not removed from the drug to see if that's what had caused the heart rate drop? And more importantly, why was it increased the last time (right before my c-section was ordered)? Why would he make those decisions? Why needlessly cut me open, forever altering my body and any future pregnancies for shear convenience? Ultimately, I don't blame my doctor, and I don't think he's some horrible monster. I am forever grateful to him for his care during a miscarriage before having my son. But that's not to say I'm not disappointed in him for what happened to me.

Most of all, I was mad at myself. Mad for not being more informed about the interventions that I was given. Mad for being so trusting. And mad for allowing labor to go in the complete opposite direction that I intended. Ultimately, I know that it was my body and my choice to place so much trust in my doctor. I had assumed that my doctor and the hospital staff would always be looking out for me and my baby. I had no reason to believe otherwise.

Wrap-Up:

After throwing myself into the research, I've been able to process many of the emotions and feelings regarding my unncesarean. I know that I'm not alone, and that my feelings are real and valid. I've grieved for my birth, and dealt with the trauma that comes from having an unplanned, "emergency" surgery. I've struggled and prayed through my emotions, and the more that I process them and turn them over to God, the ultimate physician, the more I feel like I can heal and move on. I plan to write a post detailing what things I plan to change with my upcoming birth, and I pray that I have a healing birth in the next few days.

38 Weeks - Almost there!

How Far Along: 38 Weeks! Holy cow! Hard to believe that baby will be here so soon!

Size of baby: Approx 6.8 lbs and over 19 1/2 inches long (about the length of a leek)

Total Weight Gain/Loss: Ugh. I feel smaller this time around, but I'm already up 35 lbs, and I'm close to the same weight I was when I delivered my son.

Maternity Clothes: Yep, it's pretty much all maternity at this point. I'm so sick of wearing maternity clothes!

Gender: It's a surprise! We'll find out when he/she gets here! I've been thinking boy all along, but these last few weeks I've been having a strong girl feeling. But I go back and forth on that. Depends on the day you ask me ;) Guess we'll see soon!

Movement: Feeling lots of hard jabs in my ribs and the baby like to jam his/her foot into my side, which hurts, but is fun to see from the outside.

What I miss: Sleeping on my stomach, most definitely. I can hardly get comfortable and wish I could just flip onto my stomach. And I miss regular clothes.

Cravings: Nothing significant lately. Still loving mushrooms, though!

Discomforts: Everything is starting to get uncomfortable. Just sitting on the sofa starts to hurt, as well as laying down, getting up off the floor, etc. Basically everything hurts.

Best Moment this Week: Lots of Braxton-Hicks contractions. Not that those are great moments, but it makes me realize that the baby will be here soon! I can't wait to meet him/her :)

35 Weeks!

How Far Along: 35 Weeks!

Size of baby: Approximately 18 inches long and 5 1/4 lbs - about the size of a honeydew melon

Total Weight Gain/Loss: Gained 25 lbs, although I really think it's more than that. I was told I had lost weight at my last appointment, but I think the nurse just wrote the number down wrong. I think it's closer to 35.

Maternity Clothes: Yep, it's pretty much all maternity at this point

Gender: It's a surprise! We'll find out when he/she gets here! I've been thinking boy all along, but now I'm starting to get a girl feeling. Guess we'll see soon!

Movement: Feeling lots of hard jabs in my ribs - ouch!

What I miss: Sleeping on my stomach

Cravings: Nothing significant lately. Still loving mushrooms and ice cream (not together, of course)

Discomforts: Sleep is getting a little uncomfortable, so I started sleeping with a pillow between my legs which seems to help some.

Best Moment this Week: Got our double stroller this week. Makes it feel real to see those two seats.

28 Weeks!

(Please excuse this horrible shot. I gave Joshua a hard time for taking it at such an awful angle)

How Far Along: 28 Weeks - Officially in the 3rd trimester!

Size of baby: 14.8 inches and 2 1/4 lbs

Total Weight Gain/Loss: Gained 18 lbs

Maternity Clothes: I'm mainly wearing maternity jeans and pants but I'm hanging onto my non-maternity tops. They're almost all too short now, though.

Gender: It's a surprise! We'll find out when he/she gets here! I think it's another boy, but we'll see!

Movement: He/She is pretty active, especially at nights. I often wake up in the middle of the night and feel him/her squirming around.

What I miss: Sleeping on my stomach

Cravings: Mushrooms! I could eat them for every meal. Which is strange for me, since I usually don't like them very much. Have also had a few cravings for Dairy Queen Blizzards (which I've managed to ignore so far)

Discomforts: Lots of pregnancy induced heartburn. Yuck!

Best Moment this Week: I went through all of our baby clothes, pulled out all the gender neutral stuff, and got the new nursery ready. I'll post pictures soon!

Birth Story - Part I

A few weeks before Christmas, I had the honor of attending the birth of my good friend Emily, who happens to be married to one of my favorite cousins. I served as their birth photographer, and was witness to an amazing, all natural birth at a birthing center attended by a midwife. It was an incredible experience, and I will be forever grateful to Emily for allowing me to be there. It has changed me in so many ways and given me much to think about for my upcoming birth. It also, unfortunately, had me reliving my son's birth and everything that went wrong that lead to my eventual cesarean. I've never written about this publicly, but the emotional hurt regarding his birth is still something that I struggle with. I've decided to post my story not only in an attempt to heal emotionally and get myself ready for my next birth, but also as a way to share my experience with others.

During the last few weeks of my pregnancy I ended up sleeping on the sofa at nights. It was easier to get comfortable there, and when I woke up a million and half times at night to use the bathroom, it was easier to go back to sleep out in the living room as my husband snores. The morning of my son's birth, I woke up around 4 a.m. with what assumed at the time was just a Braxton-Hicks contraction. I had never felt one, so I just assumed that's what it was, and a went back to sleep. I woke up around an hour later several more contractions, but still didn't think much of them. I tried to ignore them and went back to sleep. I woke up around 6:15 when my husband left to go running. I didn't tell him about the contractions, as I still assumed that they were just Braxton-Hicks. So my husband left to go running, and I went into our bedroom to try and go back to sleep. Well the contractions kept coming, so around 7 a.m. I decided that I should at least start timing them to see if there was any sort of pattern. Imagine my surprise when I found them to be around 7-9 minutes apart, and lasting for about a minute and half. I had a doctor's appointment scheduled for 9:30, so when Joshua got back from running, I told him about the contractions and told him we should just wait for the appointment to see if we needed to head to the hospital or not. In the meantime, I kept timing the contractions and packed my hospital bag (I had most of the stuff laid out on our dresser, but we lived less than 5 minutes from the hospital so I hadn't been too concerned about having everything ready beforehand). I got ready, straightened my hair, etc, which was all a little difficult to do with the contractions that were starting to get progressively more intense and lasting longer. I don't know why, but I still thought it was almost silly of us to take our hospital bags with us to the doctor's appointment. I was convinced I was only in early labor or that it would turn out to be false labor. I even told Joshua that we could go out to breakfast after my appointment. Around 9:15 we headed to my doctor's office for my appointment. The nurse called me back and could see that I was moving slowly. She asked me if I was having contractions, how far apart they were, etc. She told me that the doctor would check me and then let me know what our next step would be. I had to wait about 30 minutes for him to come to the room, during which time I had several more strong contractions. I remember thinking that it would have been nice to have had my husband in the room with me at the time. When the doctor arrived in the exam room, he checked me, and imagine my shock when he told me that I was 4 cm dilated already. He was able to see some bloody mucous and said that I was most definitely in labor and that we needed to go ahead and check into the hospital. I was shocked! I was certain that the contractions were going to taper off or that he would tell us to go home and wait until the contractions were closer together. I had always heard 5 minutes apart was when to go, and while my contractions were getting more intense, they were still 7-9 minutes apart. While I was getting dressed, my husband who had been in the waiting room the whole time, overheard the nurse telling the secretary that the doctor was going to get his wish after all (He had originally wanted to induce me that day, but I had asked to wait, hoping to go into labor on my own. The doctor was planning on going out of town the next day, and thought it would be easier if I delivered on my due date).

We headed to the hospital (which was across the street) and checked in. They took me straight to my room after doing all the initial paperwork. We settled into our room and they immediately started hooking me up to all kinds of monitors (blood pressure, baby heartrate, etc). At this point we decided to call our parents and let them know. The nurse came in to take my medical history and Joshua stepped out to call our our parents. My mom was there almost immediately as she was at a meeting not far from the hospital. It took Joshua's parents and my dad a little longer to arrive. My dad came in briefly to say hi, as did his mom, but mainly it was just Joshua and my mom in the room with me. Around 12:30 my doctor came in to check me, and I was still at a 4. He wanted to break my water in order to get things moving. The contractions picked up a bit after that. He also ordered that they start pitocin in my IV line. After the pit was started, I felt an increase in the intensity and duration of the contractions. He told me that I could request pain medicine whenever I felt like I needed it. I held off for a while, but those pit induced contractions where too much to handle. Around 2:30 I remember asking for something to help take the edge off. They gave me a dose of Stadol, but it didn't feel like it did anything at all. I remember being frustrated because I couldn't get out of bed much to move around. I remember trying several times to sit up or adjust my position, but I had wires everywhere. I had to use the bathroom several times, and it was always a huge ordeal, because I had to drag an IV pole with me, as well as call in a nurse to remove my belly monitor, blood pressure cuff, and finger monitor (can't remember what that one did - oxygen?). Even when I was free of the monitors, I still had the IV pole. My nurse, who I really did like, would wait for me to return from the bathroom and then immediately begin attaching me to all the monitors again. Around 3:30 I caved and requested an epidural. It didn't take long for the anesthesiologist to arrive and get started. I was worried about the pain, but was surprised by how easy it was. There was a tiny prick of the numbing medicine, then I felt a tiny jab on my spine, almost like two of my vertebrae were separating. It was definitely a weird feeling. Over the next twenty minutes I could feel the medicine staring to numb the left side of my body only. I could still feel everything on my right side. I freaked out a little and called the nurse assuming that the epidural didn't take on that side. She suggested that I lay on my right side in order to get the medicine flowing better. It helped, but it was very frustrating to lay like that because my mom and Joshua were sitting in chairs on the left side of the bed which made it difficult to talk to them. The monitors and computers were on the right side of the bed, so that prevented them from moving the chairs to the other side of the bed. It took a long time for the epidural to take on the right side, so I was stuck having to look at the monitors. Instead of struggling to chat, I decided I should try to get some sleep, but every time I would fall asleep, my blood pressure machine would go off, squeeze my arm, and then ring a little tune when it was done. It was going off about every 15 minutes, which prevented me from getting any real rest. The nurse came in several times with orders from my doctor to increase my pitocin.

I'm a little fuzzy on the times my doctor came in to check me, but I definitely remember when he came in around 5 to do a quick check. He had just ordered an increase in my pitocin, and the baby's heartrate immediately declined, but it recovered quickly. When he came back around 7 to do his check, I was at a 9 but not all the way thinned. The doctor informed me that the baby was coming out sunny side up and that he wanted me to do a quick push in order to get the head through a lip on my cervix. Well when he tried to turn the baby before I pushed, the heart rate dropped again, so he told me to hold off on pushing until the heart rate recovered. Well it took a long time. There was at least 5 minutes of silence in the room before it was back to normal. I was terrified because I could see on the monitors how low the rate was getting, and each second felt like an hour. At this point I was really scared and could see that it was something serious based on how everyone in the room was reacting. The doctor informed me that the cord was most likely wrapped around the baby's neck, and that it was the cause of the heart decels. He informed me that he didn't have a good feeling about it and that since the baby was already in distress, that it would not react well to pushing. He said he didn't want to chance it, and wanted to do a c/s to get the baby out ASAP. He told me not to worry that he would have the baby out soon, and then quickly left the room to get prepped for surgery, and that's when I got even more terrified. The nurse (I had a new nurse by that point) was on the phone with someone and was demanding immediate assistance in my room. It was only a few seconds before a team of nurses and other medical staff came rushing through the door with carts and monitors. I was given an oxygen mask and medical staff ran around the room barking out orders to each other. My mom was asked to leave the room, and Joshua was given scrubs to put on while another nurse started shaving me. There was so much commotion in the room, and all I could think about was how my baby was in danger. After my husband was in his scrubs, I pulled him down to me and we prayed for the baby, and before I knew it, I was being wheeled back to the operating room.

Joshua was not allowed to go with me at first, so I was by myself in a very cold operating room while a team of about 12 people busied around the room. I was freaking out and shaking so violently that a very sweet nurse sat down near my head and started trying to calm me down. She ordered another nurse to cover me in warm blankets. I could hardly focus on what she was saying, but I managed to nod a few times. Neither the calming words nor the blankets helped very much, though. I just remember laying on the table being scared out of my mind that my baby was in danger. I had not mentally prepared myself for a cesarean. I was convinced that I would have a normal, vaginal delivery. And I especially hadn't prepared myself for the thought that something might be wrong with the baby. My doctor came in and was informed that I was still shaking so hard despite all their efforts to calm me down and warm me up. He told the nurse to give me some anti-anxiety medicine and assured me that everything would be ok. After a few minutes, I could feel the medicine start take effect, and my body stopped shaking. The medicine helped me feel better, but I immediately began feeling like I was going to fall asleep at any moment. I was struggling so hard to just keep my eyes open. I was so loopy, but I remember hearing my doctor and the anesthesiologist chatting about the anesthesiologist's recent fishing trip. He asked me a few questions and determined that my epidural was still fine, and that there was no reason to put me under for the surgery. I was still struggling to keep my eyes open, so I tried to focus on the baby instead. I said a prayer and tried to will the baby to hang on until they could get him out. I had been so convinced all during my pregnancy that it was a girl, but I knew in that instant that the baby was a boy. Joshua was finally allowed into the operating room, and he helped me to try and stay awake by talking to me. I was so mad because I was having to will myself to stay awake for my baby's birth. Because I was so loopy and out of it, I'm not sure how long this whole process had taken. I'm sure it was much faster than it all felt, though. My doctor informed that I was going to feel some pressure and that the baby would be out soon. Next thing I know I hear a baby crying and my doctor informing me that it was indeed a boy and that he looked just fine. I was so relieved and loved hearing that cry! He told Joshua that he could stand up and take a look over the curtain, so he did, but he quickly sat back down saying that he saw too much red for his comfort. Eventually they brought the baby over to my head so that I could see. I looked over at my husband, and he was crying. He gave me a huge hug and just sobbed. He had been trying to be so strong for me and was just so relieved that everything was ok with both of us. They took the baby away quickly in order to do all of their various tests and get him cleaned up. Joshua went to inform our families, and I immediately passed out from a mixture of exhaustion and relief, but mainly from the anxiety medicine that I had been fighting the whole time. I was out for a good while (I was told it was at least an hour) and woke up in the recovery room.

At first I didn't see anyone in the room with me, but noticed that the little plastic bassinnet was close enough for me to see but too far to reach. After a few seconds I realized that my dad was in the room with me as well as a nurse. I asked to hold my baby but was told that I couldn't until his temperature had stabilized. That's when I finally noticed the lights he was under. Joshua came back to the room, and family members took turns coming in to see the me and the baby. My mom just hugged me and cried. Finally, I was able to hold my baby after what felt like forever. He had been crying when they moved him, but immediately stopped when he heard me talking to him. I don't remember how long we stayed in recovery, but they eventually moved us into our postpartum room. Joshua and my mom hadn't eaten all day, so my parents left for a few moments to get food for them and for Joshua. I had been starving all day (and not allowed to eat), but fortunately I wasn't hungry at all at this point, which was good because I wasn't allowed to eat anything anyway). Our families hung around for a little while, but it was past midnight by this point so they left to let us get some sleep.

Me waiting to get to hold my baby

Finally getting to hold him!

Our family of 3!

Stay tuned for my next post when I'll discuss my emotions regarding his birth as well as what I hope to do differently next time.