Not Getting My VBAC

Yesterday I had my six week postpartum checkup. Everything was pretty routine. My incisicion is healing perfectly. My doctor answered some of my questions. We talked about possibly switching NFP methods. It was a pretty boring appointment.

When we left I felt kind of sad. When you go to the doctor's office as much as you do when you're pregnant you form relationships and familiarity with the doctor and staff. It is all bittersweet. I absolutely love being pregnant and I cherish all the changes my body goes through. The six week checkup marks the end of the pregnancy journey and the start of something new. I get kind of sad leaving that part of my life behind.

Of course with the end of this chapter I reflect back on these last months. My pregnancy was awesome. I did not get pre-eclampsia, and for that I am so thankful. I didn't get the annoying pregnancy carpal-tunnel syndrome like I did with Joe. I was a little distressed at looking like a fat cow, but other than that, my pregnancy was perfect.

However, when I look at the delivery aspect of my pregnancy, I get a tad bit distressed about not getting my VBAC. I went into my c-section with a great sense of peace and excitement. It was a wonderful and happy experience. But now, with my mix of post partum hormones and sensitivity, I have a lot of "what ifs" floating around in my head.

What if I had just waited a little longer? But the truth is, I did not want to wait longer. I was very paranoid at something going wrong. I know the chances of that happening were very small, but I was very uneasy. Plus, I wanted to see my son! According to the ultrasound almost a week before my c-section he was 41 weeks. He was cooked.

What if I would have done more exercises to stretch out my hips? What if I would have gone to a chiropratctor to get adjusted? Would Sam have been able to engage in my pelvis? Who knows.

What if I had picked a different VBAC-friendly doctor? Maybe he or she would have worked with me more to get Sam to drop. But I am pretty satisfied with my doctor. He did not pressure me with anything and let me wait a few more days to see if I would go into labor on my own.

I will admit I have feelings of disappointment of not getting a VBAC. I feel like my body failed me. I so badly wanted that experience of a vaginal delivery. I prayed so very hard for it to happen. I prayed to God, telling him I wanted to experience the same pain and joy that the Blessed Mother felt when she gave birth to her son, and the same feelings my mother and grandmother and her mother before her felt when they gave birth. I wanted to unite my suffering and pain with Christ's. (Even though I didn't experience labor pains, there are many pains associated with recovering from a c-section.) I wanted to experience the awesomeness of the female body- the way God designed it to bear all that pain and bring a brand new person in the world.

I prayed novenas to St. Gerard. I went to confession. I went to adoration. I prayed hard. Still, in my prayers I stressed that I wanted God's will to happen, and if it was his will for me to have a c-section then I wanted peace. He definitely answered my prayers because I felt an overwhelming sense of joy and calm going into my c-section. Who knows, perhaps if I would have gotten my way and delivered vaginally something bad could have happened. Maybe Sam would have gotten stuck in the birth canal and suffered brain damage. Maybe I would have hemoragged. Maybe my old c-section incision would have ruptured and Sam or I could haved died or I would have my uterus removed. Cord prolapse, placental abruption... there are many risks. If any of those horrible things would have happened I would still being playing the "what if" game, but this time it would have been in the midst of devastation.

But the selfish part of me still thinks that anything is possible with God- couldn't he have given me a miracle? But there's a reason for everything he does, and it is ulimately good. I might not know the reasoning until I get to heaven.

I find myself kicking myself for feeling disappointed for having a c-section. I know it's not logical for me to feel so bad. I am healthy. Sam is healthy. There are women out there who would kill for a c-section if it meant holding a child of their own in their arms. It's hard to explain why I feel so crummy, but after a lot of thought, I think I have pinpointed it.

Vagnial births are the most ideal way to give birth. It's the way God designed it. So in some ways it seems like c-sections are a lesser way of giving birth. It's as if giving birth has become a badge of honor, and you only get that badge if you give birth naturally and vaginally. There are advocates that cry out for more VBACs and less c-sections. I whole heartedly agree with this, but some of these advocates make me feel like a fool. I'm a fool for trusting my doctor and having faith in the medical system. Some of these advocates make me feel less of a woman. Well, I take that back. They make me feel less of a strong woman.

The best way I can compare having a c-section birth vs. vaginal birth is with breast-feeding vs. formula feeding. You see everywhere BREAST IS BEST. I'm pretty sure if I did formula feed I would feel awful seeing and hearing that everywhere I went. Women who formula feed for whatever reason are choosing the best- that is to feed and nourish their baby. I think those advocates for breastfeeding make it sound superior and if you don't breastfeed then you're a horrible mother. Just like some advocates making vaginal birth sound superior and if you have a c-section that isn't medically necessary then you are less of a mother and woman. I feel like the way I brought my son into the world is cheapened.

I know some advocates in birth are fighting for women to have more choices. There should be more VBAC doctors and less rules and regulations against VBACs. But a woman should not feel judged for her choices. If she wants to be induced, support and love her. If she wants an epidural, support and love her. If she chooses not to have a VBAC because she is scared of the risks and opts for a repeat c-section instead, support and love her. If a woman wants a home-birth, love and support her. As long as she is not doing anything to harm herself or her baby, love and support her. If a woman chooses to formula feed her baby, love and support her. Don't try to be a medical professional and shove down their throats the risks of this and the benefits of that. The information is out there for a woman to learn. Yes, we can offer information. But don't undermine a woman's decision when it comes to her birth choices.

Hopefully this makes sense. I am a very sensitive person. When someone tells me my doctor shouldn't be worried about how the baby isn't engaged I get confused and angry because I trust my doctor is doing the best thing for my baby and me. When somebody says "Thank God I didn't get a c-section" it makes me feel like the way I brought my child into the world is a negative thing.

I can say this- I am handling this c-section MUCH better than I did my last. I had some serious emotional trauma with Joe's birth and that's probably why I have such complex issues with c-sections in general. But I was prepared this time and I knew I tried hard to get my VBAC. I waited as long as  felt comfortable and tried a lot of things to get Sam to come out naturally. And prayed my patootie off and I know what happened was God's will, so why question it?

Our next baby will be a c-section unless God has different plans. I'm sure with time I will get over my c-section hangups. We have decided that we will NOT find out the gender of our next baby. There won't be any surprises of my water breaking, or how long it takes me to dilate or how long it takes to push out the baby or if she or he will come on the due date. But there will be a surprise of if the baby is a girl or boy. I will be bursting with anticipation of the doctor announcing "It's a _____ !"

I've said this before- giving birth is just a small piece of the puzzle of motherhood. But giving birth seems to have become competitive and a breeding ground for judgement and self-pride. Can't we just view all birth choices as the way God does- beautiful and miraculous.

Meeting Joe

Meeting Sam

7 Quick Takes

It has been forever and a day since I've done 7 Quick Takes. I'm slowly trying to get back on the blog band wagon, because I have a feeling in a few months I will be stopping blogging all together.

1.

Why won't I be blogging as much, you may ask? It turns out that little harebrained idea I had churning in my head isn't going away. I've spent a lot of time researching my options on nursing school and I am pretty serious about pursuing this idea. I will probably start taking my pre-requisite classes this coming January, so I will be pretty busy! I am really excited about this new journey!

2. 

I've been feeling like a crummy mom lately. I know I'm still postpartum and recovering from major abdominal surgery, but I've been feeling bad about letting Joe watch TV all day and snack constantly. There are some days he is lucky if he gets out of his PJ's. I also feel guilty about living in a small apartment because there is no place for him to run around and be outside. This week I decided to get my act together. I'm limiting TV time. Instead of vegging on the couch I'm getting off my ass and molding animals out of Play Doh and playing with Legos. The TV isn't on, instead we're listening to toddler radio and Disney radio on Pandora and singing "The Wheels on the Bus" and "The Circle of Life." Yesterday we made cookies. It was a tad bit frustrating since Joe insisted he stir it all by himself. Still, we had a good time and made some yummy cookies!

3. 

Speaking of postpartum... I swear it's harder on me than 9 months of pregnancy. I'm not even talking about recovering from a c-section. My hair is falling out and acne is attacking me like I'm a 16 year old again. I'm getting dry, itchy skin. I had forgotten about the back aches and head aches. I'm feeling really gross about my body. I'm wearing super duper granny panties and am feeling like Jabba the Hutt, only with bigger boobs.

Just slap on some Dolly Parton boobies and you'll get an idea of what I look like.

Oh, yeah. I smell like old milk because I'm leaking this much:

Niagra Falls y'all.

I know some women are miserable when they are pregnant. Yeah, it sucks that we ultimately turn into a small-scale whale, but I like being pregnant. When people gave me that sympathetic "Oh, you must be ready to be done!" look I just shrugged it off.

The only perk is being able to sleep on my stomach again!

4. 

I was feeling fairly confident of handling a newborn again. That was until Sam actually entered the world and I learned quickly that he is nothing like his older brother was, except in the looks department. Joe was always a very laid-back newborn. He would sleep and nurse. Even when he spit up he was chillaxin'.

Not Sam. He is a fussy budget. He's so alert and wants to party all the time by screaming. We started thinking he was getting reflux like Joe did, so his doctor put him on some Zantac. It doesn't seem to be working very well. We tried gripe water once but he projectile vomited that up. He's like a time bomb... you have to be very careful for he'll explode!

But he's pretty darn cute and he's getting close to those first real smiles. I can't believe how fast this month has gone. It seems like yesterday I was complaining about being overdue and now here he is! He seems to be paying attention to what I am saying so I'm really feeling the bond between us grow.

5. 

Now that there is a newborn in the house it is so weird when I change Joe's diapers or pick him up. He seems like a giant now (even though he is in the 3rd percentile range for his height. He's our little elf!) He seems so grown up, too. And guess who finally, finally FINALLY after 2 looong years is sleeping in his own room the WHOLE night?

Yup. My little man.

6. 

At long last we're getting some fall-like temperatures. Yesterday I got out my fall decor, lit my fall candle and fixed some warm chili for supper. Fall is my favorite season for a bajillion reasons. Falling leaves, farmers harvesting their crops, football, that musty smell when the furnace kicks on for the first time. Pumpkins, cider, hoodies, warm blankets, Halloween and Thanksgiving, back to school activities. Basically September through December is my favorite time of year!

This is the new candle I got and I LOVE it. It's called Leaves and I got it at Bath and Body Works. It's not too strong, but the smell reminds me of the days in high school when I would come home from golf practice and my mom would have something cooking in the crock pot, the house was warm and toasty and you could faintly hear the sounds of the grain bins on the edge of town.

The jar looks different, but this is the only pic I could find.

7. 

Some of you may be aware of our annoying neighbors upstairs. We can hear EVERY.THING. they do. They tend to stomp around a lot. But what is most annoying is their surround sound system. There was one time it sounded like they were having a bitchin' party up there. The music woke up Joe so Ryan went up there. They were watching 20/20. 20 freakin' 20. Ryan had to go up there a number of times and everytime he always aplogized for being a pain in the ass, but it was disturbing our son's sleep. Finally, when they were vacuuming at 11:30 at night we went to management. Their surround sound was turned off for about a week, and then it started back up.

There was one time I had family over and we heard a bunch of booming up above. Our ceiling was MOVING. It looked like a heartbeat. I could even feel it move when I touched it. It was so bad we were honestly worried the ceiling was going to crack. We went up there, not to complain, but to inquire what they were doing and let them know that we were going to go to maintainence to check our ceiling because it is right above where Joe plays. The neighbor girl, who has always been very stand off-ish, opened the door and she was sweaty. She had been exercising, specifically, jumping jacks. We aplogized profusely. Ryan even ran into her finance later that night and apologized. It was so awkward and we felt so bad. A week later we got a call from managemnt. They had complained because she was "greatly offended" at us coming up there.Who does that?!

They kept being loud and we just tried to deal with it. But a few days after we got home from the hospital they had their music BLARING. It was downright rude. Ryan went up there to tell them to turn it down and they didn't answer the door even though we knew for a fact they were home. Ryan called management and they said not to go up there anymore because our neighbors felt that Ryan was "hostile", which is downright laughable. Our neighbors turned it down while we were on the phone with management. I got on the phone with the lady and started bawling, telling her that Ryan wasn't hostile and that we weren't trying to be pains. That was a lovely postpartum moment.

Now they completely avoid Ryan. One time Ryan was at the top of the stairs going down and she showed up getting ready to go up, but once she saw him she turned around and went up another flight of stairs. The guy neighbor always avoids Ryan as well.

I've resorted to throwing tennis balls at the ceiling and Ryan is extra friendly to them when they don't have enough time to run away from him.

I found this on my friend's facebook wall and I really might be tempted to use this as a template and leave it on their door someday.

If I had a neighbor who sent me this note I would bake them cookies after I apologized and asked them to be my best friend forever. 

 

Have a great weekend y'all! Visit Grace at Camp Patton for more Quick takes!

Joe's Mirror Time

Having a bad day? This is sure to cheer you up. Joe discovered he can make faces in the mirror.

You have to watch until the end... there's a funny little surprise!

Sam's Birth Story

I promised a while back that I would write Sam's birth story. There's no exciting water-breaking tale or a story of an 82 hour labor and 3 hours of pushing. I had a c-section, so my story is pretty cut and dry.

Still, it is filled with peace and happiness.

Ryan and I arrived at the hospital before the sun came up. I registered at admissions and walked up to The Birth Place. I donned the lovely oversized hospital gown. The nurses came in to start my IV and take blood for the lab. Since I have crappy veins they blew one and then kept searching for another. That stuff never bothers me. It did, however, bother Ryan. He had to leave the room. They finally got me all hooked up.

The nurse took my blood pressure. I heard the game-over-bing-bong sound that the machine makes when the reading is complete. That brought back a flood of horrible memories from when I was in the hospital with Joe. But instead of the blaring alarm alerting the nurse that my blood pressure was sky high, there was silence. My blood pressure was perfect. Now THAT was a wonderful feeling.

I looked at the contraction monitor, and what do you know- I was having contractions. Just small ones and I could barely feel them. I had my nurse check me even though I was set on having a c-section. I was still closed and high. That brought me even more peace.

The nurse gave me the nasty, sour c-section drink and Ryan and I spent the next 30 minutes or so relaxing. Suddenly I felt like I was going to get sick, but nothing happened. Maybe it was just nerves.

My doctor came in to check on me. He told me that the anesthesioligt's assistant was of the Jesuit persuasion and I should jokingly ask him if there were any Benedictine trained assistants. (Gotta love Catholic humor!) The nurse told me that my doctor and the assistant always joked with each other I was sure to be entertained. 

The anesthesiologist came in and discussed my surgery. I told him with Joe's birth I vomited everywhere in the O.R. Seconds after the beautiful first glimpse of my son I upchucked everywhere. When they wheeled me to my room I also threw up. It was not fun so I made sure the he knew I didn't want to experience that again. I opted to get a spinal instead of an epidural. I got a spinal with Joe, so I knew what to expect and with a spinal you are able to get up sooner.

The nurse came in and told me it was time. She asked me if I wanted to be wheeled in to the O.R. or walk. I emphatically told her I wanted to walk. This might sound silly, but I wanted to walk because with Joe I was wheeled into my surgery because I was on bedrest due to the pre-eclampsia. I felt like I was in control of the situation by walking in.

I walked  into the FREEZING cold O.R. I asked the assistant if he was Benedictine trained and he laughed. "Ohhh nooo... you're one of THEM aren't you?!" he joked. I was put at ease even though I was sitting on the edge of the operating table as he was preparing me to get my anesthesia.

That was probably the scariest part of all. The numbing shot was the only thing that somewhat hurt, but I was paranoid that the anesthesia wouldn't work and I would feel the cutting. But slowly my legs grew heavy and warm. It was like a warm, comfy, heavy blanket was put over me. I was helped to lay on the table, they put up the blue sheet divider and I waited.

Ryan finally came in and we just started talking. The anesthisologist assistant was very nice, even though I made fun of him for being a Jesuit. We were all chatting and I was beginning to wonder why we were all waiting around.

"Is Dr. S coming?" I asked. The assistant said, "He's already here and they have you open." WOW! I really couldn't feel ANYTHING! My doctor and the assistant started joking with each other and I was laughing.

Before I knew it one of my doctor's assistants said that I would feel pressure (I didn't) and then I heard my son enter the world and cry. It was a deep cry and tears of my own fell down my face. Ryan had tears in his eyes as he said "He looks like Joe!"

To my surprise I looked over to my right and saw my doctor holding my son upside down! He was all gooey. I was actually thankful to see him like that- straight from my body.

They took him to clean him up and then brought him to me. He really did look like Joe. I reached out and touched him. He opened his tiny eyes. It is those moments I will never ever forget.

 Soon they left the room. Dr. S finished up with me. I got the chills and they put a warm blanket on me. The anesthesiologist assistant wiped my face with a warm washcloth. I was suuuuuuuuper relaxed and the meds (morphine, I think?) started making me sleepy. I didn't throw up thanks to the anti-nausea meds they gave me! They wheeled me back to my room where I waited for the nurses to finish up their assessment of Sam. My doctor came in and told me everything went perfectly.

After a short time Ryan came in with the nurse and they wheeled Sam in. I finally got to hold him and nurse him.

My stay at the hospital had some ups and downs. Sam had very low blood sugar when he was first born so I gave it my all to nurse him and kangaroo-hold him as much as possible to get it up. I also had some major troubles breastfeeding (more on that later). But this experience was so SO much better since I didn't have pre-e. I was able to get out of bed later that night. I was able to relax and watch the Olympics and hold my precious baby. We had many wonderful visitors that made our stay there go by quickly. I was able to be discharged that Wednesday, but I chose to stay longer to get rest and to recover. The nurses there were awesome and took really good care of all of us.

Of course I had hoped I would get a VBAC, but I had prayed hardcore for God's will to be done, and having a c-section must have been his will. It isn't ideal- it's major surgery and recovery is tough, but this birth experience was so so much better.

Now... my peace with my c-section has been tainted a bit due to postpartum hormones and my sensitivity and pride, but I'll write more on that later.

Birth is just one piece of the puzzle in motherhood. It may have not gone exactly how I wanted it to, but in the end, my son entered this world and it's my job now to care and love him.

Joe is 2!

Yesterday Joe turned 2. Although, he's been acting like a 2 year old for quite some time now!

I can't believe how much he has grown. Having a newborn REALLY makes me aware of how much he has grown.

Of course it is challenging having a toddler. Mass and grocery store trips are quite exhausting. He makes me want to tear my hair out sometimes. But, oh, my- how he makes me smile and laugh! I have a lot of difficult days, but because of him, there is a 100% guarantee I will giggle or grin at least once a day.

This birthday was fun because he was a little more aware of what is going on. He still doesn't quite get the concept of a birthday, but there was a lot of joy on his face when he opened his presents, saw his cousins at his party and trying to grab for his cake.

This morning he crawled into bed with me and snuggled while I was nursing Sam. Being a toddler, he didn't stay there for long. He's not going to stay anywhere for long- babyhood, toddlerhood, teenager. It's all going by so fast and it is so bittersweet.

My big boy!

Once he opened this present he didn't want to open any others!

He was going after the cake!

Finally I just gave in...

Pure talent!

We shouldn't have waited so long to take a family picture!

Pretty much sums up our life right now!