| |
My husband and I were very excited
when we found out about our first pregnancy. We didn’t
try long and I was so shocked to see the two lines on
the pregnancy stick. But having sore breasts for an
entire week- unlike any PMS I’d ever had- was somehow
not enough to convince me that I was in fact, pregnant.
It was a miracle!
My pregnancy was uneventful.
Everything I went through was so textbook it is funny.
As the “big day” arrived, we grew more anxious about
seeing our little boy’s face for the first time.
Thursday came, 4 days before the due date, and I started
having very frequent Braxton Hicks contractions. Was
this the beginning? They wouldn’t stop, and the doctor
said to come on in and he would see if anything was
happening. I was 100% effaced and the baby was at –2
station, but I was still not dilated. The doctor said we
might want to hang out near the hospital and do some
walking, but I was exhausted after all the contractions
and we went home. These contractions continued all day
Friday; so Saturday after nothing STILL we decided to
take matters into our own hands. I drank raspberry tea
all day, while doing yard work, walking, and the
clincher- we ate Mexican food for dinner. At 1:00 am
Sunday morning I felt something funny, and got up to go
to the bathroom where my water broke all over the floor
and toilet. I guess the Mexican food worked!
Immediately I felt pressure. After
freaking out, while sitting on the toilet I called the
doctor. He said to come to the hospital and of course we
made it in record time. When the nurse was going to put
me in the little room where they check women to see if
they are in labor, I laughed when she asked me if I knew
if my water broke or not. Yes, I assured her, all over
the bathroom floor! So she moved us into a “real” room-
we were staying.
We got settled in and the nurse
offered a drug- Stadol- to help me sleep. The
contractions weren’t horrible yet, but I accepted
because I wanted to try and get some rest. This was my
first mistake. Actually, my first mistake was not doing
the proper research before I went into labor! The drug
made me feel REALLY funny, but once it wore off the
nurse suggested I walk around the hospital floor. So I
fastened a diaper thing to net panties (dontcha love ‘em?)
and headed off down the hall with my husband. Almost
immediately, I was doubled over in pain. With each
contraction, I felt like the baby was going to fall out.
About 5 contractions into the walk, I sent my husband on
ahead to ask if this was normal. They sent for me and
brought me into my room to check me. I climbed up the
wall in pain. The nurse was perplexed. I was having one
contraction after another, and she couldn’t tell how
dilated I was. Another nurse came in and she was BIG.
She couldn’t tell either, so she got on TOP of the bed
and reached as far as she could. They decided I was
either fully dilated or not at all. Hmmmm. Interesting.
I'd never seen this happen on any sitcom or even read it
in any of my many pregnancy books, so I wasn't sure how
normal this was.
Six hours after my water broke, the
contractions were really trying to get the baby out. The
doctor okayed an epidural since I was in obvious pain,
and about 30 minutes later I was all better. Aaaahhhh.
Mistake number 2.
The doctor came by a little later
and checked me himself. He asked if I have ever had any
surgery and I assured him I hadn't. He said it felt like
scar tissue was preventing my cervix from opening up. He
told us he would come back in a little while, which he
did. I was then dilated 8 cm. From 0 to 8 in 45 minutes.
The time was around 9 am.
You would think things from there
would go pretty quick. In hindsight, it is hard to
figure out what caused what and what affected what, but
we ran into a few problems throughout the rest of the
day. The baby was estimated to be 9 lbs. He was then
discovered to be posterior (upside down, or face up),
but possibly trying to turn. And after an internal
monitor was applied (mistake #3), we discovered he was
not tolerating labor well. I now had a big baby inside
me who was drugged, trying to come out upside down, with
a screw in his head. Doesn’t make for a promising
vaginal delivery, does it? Not to mention I couldn't
move because my entire bottom half is completely numb.
Not the ideal situation for a baby who is probably
stuck. Pitocin was started to help things along. The
final mistake (we hope!)
A couple of hours after the baby’s
heart rate started dropping, I am complete except for a
rim. The nurses came in with the bassinet and other
things to get ready for a delivery. I was now +3
station, but his head was now turned to the side. A
decision had to be made. It had been 16 hours since my
water broke, and I could be facing hours ahead of
pushing. The doctor did not feel comfortable continuing
with a vaginal delivery. With the baby’s size, and what
he had already been through, he did not know if he could
tolerate a couple of hours squeezing through my narrow
canal and possibly getting stuck. Would a c-section be
okay? This was the first time it was even mentioned. Did
we have a choice? I sheepishly said, “yes.” And before I
knew it, there were what seemed like 10 nurses in the
room getting me ready. The doctor read the forms to my
husband Alan, which basically said that I could die. I
was in tears through the whole thing, just completely
shocked. The nurses trying to cath me had trouble and
for some reason I could feel what they were doing (and
it HURT) even though I was numb from the ribs down. When
the doctor had to do it, he assured them they were doing
it right, they were just not used to running into a
baby’s head because they don’t usually cath someone who
is at +3 station!
The surgery is a little bit of a
blur, but I remember that until they brought the baby
over to me, I still could not believe I was having a
baby! Fear of what was happening to me (to US!)
overwhelmed me and I remember praying to God for His
will. I also remember wondering how other women who
don’t believe in God find comfort in a position like
this? I couldn’t imagine it. I have to add at this point
what my husband, Alan, must have been going through.
About 9 years before, he was in a very similar position
with his former wife. Unfortunately, his otherwise
healthy, full term baby inhaled meconium during labor
and died shortly after a C-section birth. He could not
believe THIS was happening again.
I remember what felt like 20 lbs (8
lbs, 11 oz of baby) being lifted off my belly when they
pulled him out and how good that felt. It’s weird that
you can’t feel them cut you open, but you can feel the
baby being pulled out! It seemed to me that everything
went by quickly, but later I found out my family was
frantically wondering what was taking so long and was I
even still alive? My husband finally got away to
reassure them that everything was going fine. Later,
while I was in recovery, Thomas (MY new baby!) was sent
up to the nursery for his bath and check ups. I think
his first APGARS were 5 and 9, and there were just minor
concerns about him breathing fast.
Once I got into my room, I was
still groggy- probably from the Stadol I had taken early
that morning. But I remember that I hadn’t seen Thomas
for a while and started asking about him. His blood
sugar was low and they were concerned. This was normal
for a distressed baby, and he was otherwise healthy.
Nonetheless, he had to stay in the NICU for the first 24
hours. It was hard going to see him every 3 hours to
nurse him, and watching them stick his tiny foot to see
if it had stabilized. Had I done something to cause
this?
Blood sugar problems run in my
family, but the doctors and nurses all agreed that it
was more likely the distress he went through during
labor. After I “recovered” and we talked about having
another baby, I started doing research. The drugs, the
epidural, the interventions- all contribute to Cesarean
births AND fetal distress. I was not going to let that
happen again. I was going to have a natural VBAC and
even thought about having a home birth. But even before
I was pregnant with Anna, when Thomas was just 10 months
old, in the back of my mind I joked, “My next one will
probably be breech.”
And so she was. This pregnancy was
also textbook, except for the bleeding scare at 11
weeks, and except for the looming words of the
radiologist, “She’s in a breech position.” I was only 20
weeks pregnant; she had plenty of time to turn. And she
did. Over and over again, only to land in the breech
position. The entire half of my pregnancy was clouded by
the big question- would I have to have another
c-section?
By 35 weeks, we needed to schedule
a repeat c-section. The doctor assured me that she could
always turn, but we wanted to be ready in case she
didn’t. The surgery was scheduled one week before my due
date. By this time, I didn’t care how she was born- I
just wanted it soon! As the big day approached, I grew
more and more concerned. This time if I died, I was
leaving behind my son, now 19 months. My sweet baby! The
first time around I didn’t have time to worry. This time
I worried about every little thing, even the epidural! I
won’t be in pain when I get it- will it hurt much worse?
When do they cath me? Will I still be groggy? What if
something is wrong with the baby?
The night before the delivery, I
wrote a letter to Thomas about how much I love him and
how his life is going to change forever. It was hard
writing that and knowing that something could go wrong.
We had pre-op the day before, and all arrangements were
made for Thomas. The next morning I even put on make up
before we drove to the hospital! When we got to the
receptionist at the Gwinnett Women’s Pavilion, I told
her, “I’d like to have a baby please,” and she asked if
I was in labor. Did I look that bad?
They put us in this tiny room with
a stretcher that is not made for pregnant women, or for
humans, for that matter. I had to pee like mad, but
didn’t know if they needed a sample, so I held it until
someone finally came in to check on us. It seems like no
matter what you are in the hospital for, they always
assign you a rookie nurse and an experienced nurse.
After the rookie nurse missed my vein (okay, honestly,
that hurts worse than an epidural!) the “good” nurse
took over. They were both great. I was only in this room
for 45 minutes when my doctor came in. He checked
everything out and said he would see us in the operating
room- he was going to get a big cup of coffee. Not
something you want to hear, especially when it’s
followed by an enormous yawn. Was he joking?
In the little room, they shaved me
and hooked me up to everything. They also made me take
this yucky tasting stuff that is supposed to keep you
from throwing up. Then it was time to walk to the
operating room. With a sheet wrapped around me, I
walked. The fears flooded in. Would the epidural
paralyze me? Would I feel the doctor cut? Would the
doctor put everything back where it was supposed to be?
The room was very cold. I had shivers. Was this to help
keep the doctor awake?
The epidural was not bad; it felt
like a bee sting just like the first time. I relaxed as
much as possible and breathed deeply and slowly. Once
the epidural is given, time seems to fly. This is
because they like to get the baby out before the
epidural affects the baby. They put the cath in after
the epidural, and tied my arms to boards so that I
looked like a cross. My husband came in after a while,
and just as I started to worry about feeling them cut
me, the nurse told me that the doctor had already made
the first cut. All my worries were now gone, and I
couldn’t wait to see my baby girl. A few minutes later,
she was here. I could hear the crying, and my husband
took picture after picture. He left my side to look at
her in the bassinet and came back to report. She was
indeed beautiful. And big. We found out later, she was 8
lbs. 15 oz. Even bigger than her brother and a week
early. I started to love that she was breech!
But the worst was not over. The
doctor had to check out my uterus and see if there was
any scarring worth worrying about for what felt like an
eternity, I felt an awful urge to puke everywhere. I was
thanking God for the yucky stuff. It was an awful
feeling. I prayed for it to be over soon, and it was. I
also felt with both c-sections that I couldn’t breathe.
That is from being so numb- sometimes you even numb up
to your chest and can’t feel it go up and down when you
breathe. I don’t know how long it took to close me up,
but it went by pretty fast with the excitement of a new,
healthy baby who was so beautiful!
In the recovery room, the “good”
nurse was there and I really liked her a lot. She
gradually got me to a sitting position and offered to
bring the baby over to me to nurse. I did, and she did
pretty well. I was not groggy this time, and actually
felt pretty good even though I was still numb. It took
about an hour for the numbness to wear off enough to be
able to go to my room. Anna came in soon after and she
was going to get to stay! No NICU for her!
The next morning, they removed all
lines, the cath, IV- everything. Now I just had to
work on getting around and getting my bowels going
again!
I was now the mama of two
beautiful, healthy babies. Little did I know that I
would soon find myself in the middle of the natural
parenting world that would teach me how to cloth diaper,
make homemade baby food, avoid vaccines and lots of
other great stuff. Unfortunately, moms who have had
c-sections constantly battle the stigma of their
deliveries within the natural parenting community. I
know many women who have c-sections feel that they have
been robbed of something special. They are “put through”
something unnatural. But for me, it doesn’t matter at
this point. I have two very healthy babies who are the
biggest miracles God could ever give me. And although
neither delivery went the way I planned them, I wouldn’t
change their entries into the world for anything. It is
what gives us the bond that we have today, as if we went
through the surgeries together and conquered something
big. And hey- I have the scar to prove it!
|