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

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.

Yesterday's Test

I forgot to update y'all on how my biophysical profile test went yesterday!

First of all, the ultrasound lady was very pleased with the fluid levels, the practice breaths and baby boy's movements. She said it is usually hard to get good measurements with a late third trimester ultrasound, but she was able to get great measurements.

She did say my placenta was showing signs of being mature, which is pretty normal at this stage. But the baby is still getting enough blood and oxygen through there so it's nothing to be concerned about at this point.

Her estimation for weight is 9 lbs 3 oz give or take 1.6 lbs. She said she doesn't think it's + 1.6 lbs and that ultrasound calcuations for this late in pregnancy are not very accurate. But considering Joe was 8 lbs 15 oz at 2 weeks early, I am not surprised at all about a big giant baby in there! She showed me his fat pad on his tummy... I can't wait to tickle that big ol' belly!

I got to see his chubby cheeks and his hand resting by his nose. I just CANNOT wait to meet this little dude!

She was very pleased with the test and said I passed with flying colors. She said she thinks I'm making the right choice to wait a few days to see if I go naturally, but wouldn't feel comfortable with me waiting far past Monday because of my placenta.

I am at peace again, especially since I know that my baby is healthy! I am so excited that soon he will be in my arms!

I am trying all the good stuff to try and coax him out naturally.

It has been fun! ;-)

Peace in this Pregnancy

"God, you are going to wait until my doctor's appointment for me to feel like you are listening, aren't you?" I asked the Lord last night during my fervent prayers.

I couldn't hear him at the time, but his answer was a resounding, "Yup."

I've been praying so hard these past couple of weeks. I've prayed for a natural birth. I've prayed for no pre-eclampsia. I've prayed for the good health of my baby and me. Most of all I have prayed to do God's will. I just had no idea what God's will was going to be.

I have been so confused and worried and I felt no comfort from God. I felt like he wasn't hearing me. I felt like he was just leaving me hanging. C-section or VBAC, Lord? What's it going to be?

I went into my doctor's appointment somewhat numb. I had a gut feeling that I would not have any progress. I was just worried that my doctor would pressure me into a c-section. I hate confrontation and am a coward.

The appointment didn't start off well. I was really nervous and anxious with a great sense of dread, even though my favorite nurse was there and she always reassures me. She took my blood pressure. Of course it was high. She said it wasn't dangerously high, but higher than it normally is. I asked her if my urine specimen was OK and she went to check on it.

When she left I broke down. I haven't cried about any of this at all. Either God's grace has given me strength or my anti-depressants have been working. I tried to calm myself down. I begged St. Gerard to help me in my hour of need. He answered my prayer- through my husband. Ryan stood in front of me and pulled out a dollar bill and a shit-eating grin and said, "I'll give you a dollar if you smile!" It was so corny and so cute and so Ryan that I couldn't help but smile. That lead us to having a long conversation about which presidents we think should be on U.S. currency and how if the movies can digitally create werewolves then they should be able to digitally create an expression on Kristin Stewart's face. I was laughing and my anxiety melted away. The nurse never came back.

The doctor came in and checked the baby's heartbeat. Perfect. I asked him about my blood pressure and urine. He said it was only slightly high and he wasn't worried at all. He said I have no swelling and look great. (THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU BABY JESUS FOR NO PRE-ECLAMPSIA!!!!) Then he checked me. There was The Look. The Look I was prepared for. He shook his head and said the presentation of the baby was just one of the crummiest positions he could be in. He apologized and said he felt so badly that things couldn't be different. He wanted so badly for me to have a vaginal birth. I could tell he felt bad about delivering bad news. I told him I had consulted with some NFP instructors and they said my due date was probably around August 5th. He agreed, but was still discouraged at how free-floating the baby is.

I took a breath and asked if we could wait to do a c-section until Monday. He was totally cool with it, especially since he was going on vacation on Thursday. He did say he wanted to a biophysical profile of the baby tomorrow to make sure everything is OK in there. I am VERY relieved to have that test because as much as I want to wait, I'm paranoid that something could go wrong with the baby in utero. He thinks the test will turn out fine.

We did an sonogram with one of the crappy office machines to make sure he was head down. He was. He showed me the big empty space where his head should be engaged.

He said for me to make an appointment with him on Monday. I told him that if I hadn't delivered naturally by then I would be willing to have a c-section. He was relieved and set me up with the appointment coordinator.

I left the appointment full of peace. Tomorrow I will get reassurance of how my son is doing inside me. I have a few days for my body to cooperate. And if not, that's OK with me. If nothing happens I will go into my c-section knowing that I tried. I waited. Yes, I could wait a couple more weeks if my due date is the 5th, but in all honesty, I don't want to wait that long. But I did wait. I tried. I can always say I tried.

And who knows, maybe in these next few days my body will cooperate. Maybe I will get the VBAC I've always wanted. I am still praying for that. Miracles do happen. But if it's God's will that I have a c-section I will be much more at peace with it all. I won't argue with him as much.

The more and more I think about it, I'm excited. In less than a week I will FINALLY meet my son. I will get to hold him and cuddle with him and see what he looks like. Instead of depression and failure if I go in for a c-section I will have excitement. Birth is a very important part of a woman's life. But that is just a small piece of the puzzle. It's not all about labor and delivery- it's about the child. The child that God blessed me with and that I get to cherish for years and years and years.

I asked God for peace of mind and he has definitely given that to me. I got permission to wait a few days instead of being wisked away to a c-section tonight like I feared.

Things are going to work out perfectly. Yes, I pray and hope for a VBAC, but I will follow God's will. He knows best. I always seem to forget that part.

I do want to thank you all for your support and prayers. There are many of you that I have never met that are praying for me and your kindness makes me want to cry. Words can't express how much I appreciate all the love and encouragement. Prayer really does work. Really, truly.

We'll see how the next few days go! 

Overdue and Feeling Fine (?)

Yesterday was my due date.

Still no baby.

It's so strange comparing this pregnancy with my last. With Joe I was nowhere near emotionally ready to give birth. I thought I was going to a routine appointment and before I could wrap my head around it all I was being induced that night due to horrific blood pressure. It all happened so fast.

Now time is draaaaaaaaaggggingggggg on... I don't feel like anything is going on down there. I had some major nausea and frequented the porcelain throne (not to throw up...) quite a bit the other night, which some say means labor could start soon, but there's still no contractions or anything.

I feel awesome physically. My back doesn't really hurt, my feet are fine, I'm not too hot and I haven't felt any kind of pain. Yeah, I'm a little bit exhausted. I'm bummed that I can't fit into my maternity clothes anymore and wish I could wear my own clothes instead of my husband's comic book t-shirts (although their vintage-y softness is an added bonus!) I have a bit of tenderness around my navel but it only hurts when a certain toddler pushes on it with his feet in the middle of the night.

Emotionally I'm not doing so hot. I'm impatient to meet our son. I want to hold him. I want to see Joe's reaction. Today Joe was playing with his Cabbage Patch baby doll and was hugging it and kissing it. My heart melted into a soppy mess of motherly love. I cannot wait to see him as a big brother. I want to see who the baby looks like. The very first thought that popped into my head when they brought me Joe was, "Oh my goodness, he looks like Ryan!" Will this child look like me? Will he have lots of hair since he's had more time to cook? How big will he be? I want to see Ryan hold him. I want to see my nephew Max's reaction because he has been very interested in my pregnancy. I'm ready for iddy biddy diapers and breastfeeding and spit up and swaddling.

I'm anxious as to when this will all start. Will my water break today? Tomorrow? At Mass? At the store? Will I get contractions in the middle of the night?

I'm nervous about my appointment on Tuesday. I used to LOVE going to my doctor's appointments, but this one I am dreading. According to my NFP charts I think my actual due date is closer to August 5th. I have an NFP-only doctor so I am sure he will listen to my concerns. I'm just hate confrontation and worry that I will be pressured into getting a c-section. Not just because of my small hips or because of the baby not dropping, but because I am getting impatient. But really there is no medical reason for me to get cut yet.

I want a VBAC so badly. I want to feel that pain. I want to feel the power and glory of how God made the female body. I want to experience what my mother did and her mother before her. I want to see my baby right out of the chute instead of waiting. I want my husband to see his son emerge from my body. I want him to be an active part of the process.

I have been praying so so so so very hard. I know I have others praying for me as well. I want to do God's will. But I don't know what that is. Is his will that I have a c-section because if I wait any longer the baby will be in danger? Is his will for me to be patient and I will have a happy, peaceful vaginal birth? This end of pregnancy has dropped me to my knees and begged for his help. But I don't hear him. I wish he would send me an email.

Lots of women go over their due dates. I know this. But considering my history of pre-eclampsia and the fact I want a VBAC and that I'm on the small size just makes it all more nerve wracking!

Hopefully my next post will be a birth announcement. Thank you all for keeping me in your prayers! I need them!

VBAC Hopes Fading...

I had my 39 week appointment today. I wasn't going to get too excited because I had a feeling that nothing had changed from last week. I had no progress then.

My blood pressure and weight were fine. The baby's heartbeat was fantastic. But the look on his face when he was checking me did not give me hope. He just kind of sighed and had that "I hate to tell you this" look on his face. He informed me that my chances for a VBAC were not looking too good at this point because the baby hadn't dropped. Since we are treating this as my first vaginal birth he said that by this time in my pregnancy the baby should have been somewhat engaged in my pelvis. The baby's head is nowhere near getting to that point. That fact that he is not could possibly mean my pelvis is too small for him to get down there.

My water could break and I could dilate, but if my baby's head is not down there is a risk for cord prolapse. Or I could start to push and my pelvis won't be wide enough for the baby's head to pass through. Both of these are serious risks with having a vaginal delivery.

He said he has been pleasently surprised before with women who he was convinced were not going to be able to have a VBAC. They delivered beautifully. He talked about how delivering babies is such a crazy game and you never know what God has in store.

Even though he is doubtful I will be able to have a successful VBAC, he told me that it was still my choice. I could schedule a c-section or wait another week. I decided to wait. My due date is this Friday and my next appointment is the following Tuesday. I wanted to give my body a little longer.

I did shed a few tears while driving home but I didn't have a full break down like I thought I would. I tried looking at the bright side. If I do have a c-section, I have been through one before and know what to expect. And unlike last time I know there is a possibility of a c-section. With Joe I was in denial about having a c-section pretty much up to the point to where they were wheeling me into the O.R. And I know what the recovery is like with a c-section and I had a very fast and easy one with my first c-section.

I haven't developed pre-eclampsia so far which is a HUGE blessing. I don't know how I could take care of Joe and a newborn while battling high blood pressure. It was a huge scary ordeal for me and really took away a lot of the joy in welcoming Joe to the world.

If my pelvis is too small to deliver vaginally then thank God for modern medicine and c-sections so that my baby and I can be safe from harm.

My doctor has assured me that just because I have c-sections doesn't mean that I have to have a small family. He has on many occasions delivered a woman's fourth or fifth child by c-section with no complications.

No matter what the means are to get the baby out, the end will be the same- a precious baby to hold in my arms. 

I'm still pretty bummed. I know that there is still hope for a VBAC, but I am getting very discouraged. And even if my water breaks I will be scared that my baby hasn't dropped and complications could occur. Although my  measurements have lined up perfectly with how many weeks I am, I still wonder if my due date is off. All these doubts and questions and worries are going through my head. I still get jealous of women when I hear about their vaginal deliveries. Now I will be jealous of those women who had successful VBACs.

I am praying a novena to St. Gerard that is to end on my due date. My prayers are to keep baby and me safe and for me to accept God's will regarding VBAC/c-section. I know I have many friends and family praying for me as well, which I am very grateful for. I'm just stubborn and want God's will to conform to mine.

Who knows what will happen in the next week. Like my doctor said, who knows what God has in store for us! I'm still anxious and nervous, but God knows best.

God knows best.

VBAC Hopes and Fears

***I could have sworn I hit publish on Friday, when I inteded for this post to go out. I was beginning to wonder why I wasn't getting any comments (I'm a comment whore) and I came back to realize I didn't publish this!***

Today I enter my third trimester of pregnancy. I cannot believe how fast this pregnancy has gone! I guess the days before Joe just dragged on and I had little distraction!

This past week I have been experiencing some new and different pains. I am experiencing some major Braxton Hicks. I thought I knew what they felt like from my pregnancy with Joe, but these are much more noticeable. My hips have been super sore, especially on my right side. And the most bizarre pain? This might be TMI, but I have had some very sharp, stabbing pains in my cervix/vaginal area. It feels like this little baby is trying to knife his way out. I never felt that before.

I consulted Dr. Google and these pregnancy symptoms are pretty common and nothing really to worry about. In fact, they are all pretty much indicators that my body is preparing for labor. And this might sound crazy, but I am actually welcoming these pains, because I want my body to be in prime condition to have a successful VBAC.

I had an appointment with my OB this week and I touched base with him in regards to me attempting a VBAC. He is really supportive and basically wants me to do what I feel comfortable with. I expressed concern with having a big baby and he said we won't really know until the last few weeks of pregnancy. He also said he has faith in his mothers to be able to tell if they are having a big baby. He raved about the labor and delivery nurses and how much of a support they would be. I left the appointment feeling very at peace.

I have been thinking and praying about having a VBAC since basically an hour after Joe was born. My first fear was the major risks a woman takes when trying a VBAC. The biggest risk is uterine rupture. That could result in death of the mother and/or the baby. It could also mean losing my uterus and any chance of having future children would be gone. Those risks scared me greatly. Would trying to have a vaginal delivery really be worth that? I prayed often that I make the right decision. I did my research. As of right now, I feel at ease and at peace of at least attempting a VBAC. There are risks, but the chances of those risks happening are very small. There are risks with having a c-section as well. My doctor seems to have a very level head. He isn't overly VBAC, but he is also very open to them and not pushy with c-sections. He and I are on the same page of having an open mind of what could happen.

I have been thinking about labor and delivery for a couple weeks. I still ache for that experience. A college friend of mine had her daughter a few weeks ago and she had pictures on Facebook of meeting her daughter and holding her right after she came out. The photos were beautiful. Meeting my son was just as beautiful, but it was just.. different. I wasn't the first one to see him. My doctor, husband, and about four nurses saw him and touched him before I did. I don't know why I have such a hang-up on this aspect of my birthing experience. I guess when you have something play over and over in your head for years and years and it not happen, it is just hard to handle.

I wrote a blog post when Joe was about 10 1/2 months old about my struggles with my c-section. I have healed even more since then. I still get a little jealous of hearing about amazing natural birth stories, but for the most part that devastating feeling has passed. I know it had to be done or Joe and myself could have died. God has a plan for everything.

I think what bothers me the most now is how some people out there seem to view a c-section. It is looked at with in such a negative way. After Joe was born I had a couple of people say to me, "Sorry you had to have a c-section." I know they meant nothing bad by it, but it just made me feel like a failure as a woman who just gave birth. There are women out there who are convinced there are more c-sections because the doctor is just too lazy to stick around for a very long labor or because the doctor wants to cash in because they get more money for c-sections. Pardon my French, but I think that is all complete bullshit. I am sure there are some doctors out there who are not as caring as others, but there is a reason you research your doctor and do a meet-and-greet before you labor with them.

Why is giving birth in a tree hut with monkey jungle music and candles the best way to birth? I'm even getting annoyed at those who look down upon those women who do deliver vaginally with an epidural. Does that make them wimps? Does ending up with a c-section make a woman a failure? Do these things make the birth less joyous or beautiful? Well, there are some opinions and ideas floating out there that make it seem this way.

I am keeping an open mind. If my blood pressure skyrockets again and I have to have a c-section, then I'm ready for it. At least I know what to expect and I will know that it is for the best.

I still have fears. I fear that if I do attempt a trial of labor and push and not progress and end up with a c-section that I will be depressed again. I fear that I will feel like I really failed. But I really don't think I will go down that road, because if I do get to feel the contractions and the sensation of pushing then I'll know that I tried my damndest to have a vaginal delivery. What bothered me the most with my c-section is not getting any of that experience whatsoever.

I am not afraid of uterine rupture. I am afraid of other things associated with vaginal delivery. I'm afraid he'll get stuck and not be able to breathe. I'm afraid of cord prolapse or the cord being wrapped around his neck. But those things are out of my control and I put my trust in God and my doctor and nurses.

I can't believe how fast this pregnancy has gone. I am doing a lot better physically than I was with my pregnancy with Joe. First of all, I wasn't overweight when I got pregnant. I've been very active and eating better. I could barely get up out of the recliner at this point in my last pregnancy. I am starting to feel the aches and pains, but they aren't nearly as bad as before. Hopefully that will help in a successful VBAC.

I've been praying frequently that I open myself up to God's will. It may be that God does not intend for me to have a vaginal birth. Of course I would love to have that experience, but God knows best. I want to make the best decisions, so if you all could shoot up a prayer or two for me in regards to this whole VBAC thing, I'd appreciate it! :-)

Part II: My C-Section Woes

Photo from my C-section

Part I can be found here.

Long before I was pregnant with Joe I was anti-cesarean section. Maybe the word “anti” is too harsh. I simply wasn’t a fan.

I used to always watch A Baby Story on TLC. I loved reading, watching, and seeing everything motherhood related- including pregnancy and childbirth. However, if the episode featured a woman having a repeat c-section I would change the channel. A c-section just doesn't make for a good story. You don't see characters in movies or TV having c-sections. C-sections can be so boring and anti-climactic. (I stress the word usually. I’ve heard some hum-dingers about some emergency c-sections.) Whenever I would hear of someone I knew having a c-section, I’d think, “What a bummer.”

When I became pregnant I poured over pregnancy books and magazines. I very arrogantly skipped over the parts covering c-sections. I didn’t even want to think about the possibility of having one. I focused on the nitty gritty parts of the labor process- the stages, the pain, what happens to the woman’s body and what happens to the baby. That was the interesting stuff. That was the stuff I wanted to experience.

My first fear when the doctor guessed I was going to have a big baby was not “Oh my goodness… a big baby means there is going to be tons of pain!” My fear was, “Great, now there is a bigger chance at having a c-section.” I was very apprehensive. Ryan was even getting nervous. He hated the thought of me having a c-section.

The Birth I Wanted. The Birth I Pictured.

From Day One of my pregnancy I wanted a natural birth. I know a lot of people thought I was crazy for wanting that, but that’s just what I felt most comfortable with. I did not want an epidural, but if worse came to worse I would get one if that meant I could deliver vaginally.

This might sound kind of masochistic, but I actually wanted to experience the pain of contractions. I wanted to feel what God made my body to do when it came to giving birth. I wanted to have the same experience as my mother did, and her mother before her, and so on.

I had seen births on TV and in our childbirth class, but nothing compared to seeing it happen in person. Long before I got pregnant I went to visit one of my best friends, H, while she was laboring in the hospital. I came to visit her very shortly after she had been induced, and planned on staying about 30 minutes. She was in good spirits. I even walked around the hospital with her and we caught up on our gossip. Very soon after I got there her contractions started picking up. Instead of leaving, I stayed there and held her hand through every contraction while her husband had the job of continually rubbing her lower back. She did not have an epidural and I saw all the pain she endured, but she labored beautifully. I was planning to leave when she started pushing, but everything happened so fast and I was holding her hand while she delivered her first-born son.

I cannot describe how amazing this experience was. I saw it happen, just as God designed it. It was so incredibly beautiful. I marveled at how my dear friend had used her body to bring her child into this world. I had chills as tears of happiness streamed down my face. It was the grace of God, and her blood, sweat and tears that got her to the point to see her baby.
I wanted that. Exactly that.

I wanted to feel my water break. I wanted to lose my mucus plug. I wanted that nervousness and uncertainty of “Is it time?” and calling the doctor. I wanted that exciting drive to the hospital, where Ryan and I realize that the next time we are in the car we wouldn’t be alone.

I wanted to labor. I wanted to feel the contractions. I wanted to use a labor ball (which is what my friend H used and it seemed to work very well for her.) The hospital that I labored at offered a laboring tub (not a birthing tub) and I was very open to trying that. I wanted my husband there, rubbing my back, encouraging me. I wanted a doula to walk me through the process. I wanted my iPod- I had even written a post asking for music suggestions and I had it ready to go with hundreds of songs.

I wanted the exciting/scared/anxious feeling of getting my cervix checked in hopes I would have progressed. I wanted to feel all the stages of labor.

I wanted that “Oh my gosh, here we go…” feeling when the nurse told me I had reached 10 cm and she was calling the doctor. I wanted to feel that scared feeling. I wanted to feel the adrenaline. I wanted that excited feeling of finally getting to see my son face-to-face.

I wanted my husband to be there holding my hand, and my mom on the other side also holding my hand. I wanted to push, push, push, push. I wanted to feel my baby leave my body. I pictured looking down and seeing this ooey, gooey, bloody baby who happened to be the most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes on. I wanted to be one of the first ones to lay eyes on my child. I wanted my baby laid on my chest. I pictured him laying there crying, me sobbing hysterically and cradling his warm body next to mine. I pictured my husband crying, as well as my mom. I pictured beauty, happiness, a sense of peace. I wanted to be the first person (besides the doctor) to hold the person I had been carrying for 9 months. I wanted Ryan to get to cut the cord.

I wanted to hold my child seconds after he had entered the world. I wanted to marvel at him, cry with him, and comfort him. I wanted that moment. I know the whole labor and delivery process is long, painful, and difficult, but I wanted it all. I wanted to feel what my body was designed to do. The birth of a child is a huge, life-changing and momentous event in a woman’s life. It is a key factor in transforming a woman into a mother. My heart ached for this feeling long before I was even married. It was part of my vocation to be able to give birth naturally.

Holding on to Hope

My hopes and dreams for the birth of my child were not meant to be. As soon as my doctor mentioned an induction I knew that meant the possibility of having a c-section was increased. I knew the chances were even greater because my blood pressure was so high. But I still held onto the hope that I could deliver naturally.

I was induced Tuesday evening. They placed Cytotec in my cervix and the waiting game began. I was placed on a fetal and contraction monitor. The nurse said I was having regular contractions and I should be feeling them. I didn’t feel a thing during the entire process. I might have felt one slight twinge, but that could have been gas for all I knew.

I was checked a few hours later. No progress. I was checked Wednesday morning- still nothing, so we tried another round of Cytotec. They also tried Pitocin. I was then placed on the magnesium sulfate that I mentioned in my pre-eclampsia post to prevent me from seizing due to my sky-rocketing blood pressure. The bad thing about being put on this stuff was that magnesium sulfate is also used to prevent women from going into premature labor. So here I was on Pitocin to get me to go into labor AND the mag that prevents labor. Which one would win out? I held onto the hope that the induction would work.

I didn’t feel any of the contractions. I felt nothin’ “down there.” But I suppose my “labor pains” came from the magnesium sulfate. My face was on fire and my whole body felt flushed. I felt sick to my stomach and had aches all over my body- like having a fever. It felt like a bad hangover and still feeling loopy. The worst part was I wasn’t allowed water. I was barely allowed ice chips. I was so so so so so so so very thirsty. I was getting fluids from the IV, but I just wanted something to quench the bone-dry thirst in my mouth. I also wasn’t allowed to eat so I was starving. It was torture. The room was pretty much as cold as it could be and I was still beyond hot. Ryan kept putting ice cold wash cloths on my head, but the refreshing coldness would only last a minute or two.

My labor pains also consisted of being on bed rest. They had to insert a catheter which was also torture. It was such a painful and uncomfortable feeling. It took a couple hours for me to get used to the catheter. I hated being confined to the bed. I couldn’t lie on my back because I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t lie on any one side for too long, but in order to roll on my other side I had to call a nurse in to help me switch the blood pressure cuff that was now a permanent fixture on my arm. The annoyance of bed rest and the extreme uncomfortableness of being on the magnesium sulfate got worse and worse throughout the day.

That afternoon I was checked again and still nothing. The nurse informed me that the doctor would probably come in and suggest a c-section. I broke down in despair. Thankfully, my doctor was understanding and said he would allow me to continue the induction overnight and see what happened.

I was so relieved. I felt I had few more hours of hope that the Pitocin and Cytotec would do its job. I begged God that a miracle would happen. Miracles happen all the time, right? It wasn’t like I was asking to have my sight or hearing restored. I just wanted a birth the way God intended it.

Wednesday night was horrible. I got absolutely no sleep. The mag was killing me. The bed rest was killing me. I was completely uncomfortable. I started to despair every time the nurse came to check on me and I hadn’t progressed at all. All hope for the birth I wanted was lost. Around 4:00 a.m. I was tempted to have the nurse call in my doctor and just get it all over with and get the c-section. What was the point of waiting?

When my doctor came in to check me around 8:00 I prayed and begged that some miracle had occurred and I would have progressed some. No such luck. As soon as Dr. M checked me he said he didn’t want to wait any longer. I unhappily agreed.

Dashed Dreams

I didn’t really have time to be afraid or nervous. It took about 20 minutes from the time Dr. M said, “C-section” to the time I was wheeled into the O.R. Thankfully in that short amount of time my priest came by and prayed with us and gave us a blessing. I am convinced that God sent his grace over me and I was at peace. I was still very emotionally numb. I wasn’t even excited about finally getting to see my son. It was like I was going down to get an ultrasound- nothing felt special.

I remember being wheeled into the O.R. It was so bright and cold. Very steel-y. Everyone there was in scrubs, surgical masks and hairnets. I couldn’t tell who was who. I could barely recognize my own doctor.

Everything happened so fast. I got my spinal block, was laid down and before I knew it they said they were cutting. They warned me as they were getting Joe out that I would feel a lot of pressure and tugging. I did not feel one single thing. I heard Joe’s little cry and tears filled my eyes. They didn’t lift Joe up over the sheet that was blocking my view from my innards- they took him straight to get him cleaned up. Everyone else in the room got to see him before I did.

Less than 30 minutes ago I was wheeled into the O.R. Now I had a baby. I just laid there in shock listening to the nurses talk about Joe and listening to him whimper. I started getting the shakes and feeling very queasy. Finally they brought Joe to me. Before I could get all emotional I started to vomit. Great… my son sees me for the very first time and I’m barfing all over myself. Nice.

I believe I would have handled my c-section a lot worse than I did if it weren’t for the awesome post-op policies the hospital had for c-sections. Most hospitals require the woman to recover in a separate room and she isn’t allowed to hold her baby for about an hour after the c-section. The hospital I was at believed it was very important for the woman to develop a bond with her baby as soon as possible. I recovered in the comfort of my hospital room and was able to hold Joe as soon as they put the brakes on my bed after they wheeled me in. No visitors were allowed for an hour while I recovered. It was just my nurse, Ryan, Joe and I. I am so thankful for that experience. I didn’t really have time to think about my lost birth plan. I soaked in that precious hour with my new little family.

However, my happy feelings dissipated as the afternoon came on. I was suffering from bone-crushing exhaustion, dealing with my nervousness and uncertainties with breastfeeding and handling this new little baby and my still sky-high blood pressure.

The days following Joe’s birth were filled with bitterness and fear. All I could think about was my c-section and blood pressure. I remember the first time I got to walk the halls after finally getting off bed rest and hearing the nurse talk to someone on the phone She was asking the caller how far along she was, how far apart the contractions were, if her water had broke, etc. I remember hearing a woman in the room next to me delivering her baby. I heard screams, yells, coaching and soon the cries of a new born baby. My heart broke. I felt sick to my stomach with sadness.

I wish so badly that things would have turned out differently. I wanted to be the woman who called in with contractions. I wanted to be the woman who screamed out in her labor pains. Why didn’t I get that experience?

Thankfully Dr. M did a very good job with my c-section. Many nurses exclaimed how wonderful my incision looked and bragged that Dr. M was one of the best c-section doctors they had ever worked with. My incision was healing nicely and I didn’t really experience any pain.

The days following my release from the hospital were difficult. It was hard enough adjusting to the new role of mommy, but I just could not shake my sadness of having a c-section. More than one person said to me, “Sorry you had to have a c-section.” Sorry? Aren’t we supposed to be having feelings of happiness and elation over the birth of a baby? People were “bummed”… just like I used to be when I heard of a woman I knew having a c-section. I hated that negative feelings were tacked on to the birth of my son.

Thankfully I didn’t experience much pain from the surgery and healed quickly. Breastfeeding was going very well for Joe and me, so I was thankful for that. I would have been much more messed up if I didn’t have those bright spots in my life.

The weeks following Joe’s birth were chalk-full of post-partum hormones. That added to the crushing sadness. One of my best friends called me soon after Joe was born to see how I was doing and how I liked being a new mom. I immediately burst into tears and all I could talk about was how sad I was at having a c-section. We couldn’t talk long because Joe started crying in the other room. My friend was probably thinking, “Thanks, baby! You got me off the hook from talking with your crazy mother!”

There were times I couldn’t stop thinking about my c-section. I would re-live it in my head over and over. When I would shower and wash over my scar I would think about how I felt like I had been slaughtered like a cow. I was so angry that things didn’t work out. I had begged and pleaded with God in the hospital to let me birth naturally. Why didn’t God answer my prayers? God does the impossible- couldn’t he just let me have the birth I wanted? I started feeling very resentful towards God. I was also resenting other women's experiences of giving birth naturally. There were women I knew that had serious medical complications, women who were pregnant with twins, women who were skinnier than a board who were able to deliver naturally. Why the hell couldn’t I? I couldn’t read anybody’s birth stories on blogs and it was very difficult to hear other women’s stories as well. I remember reading all these awesome, heart-warming stories of peaceful births while I was pregnant and ached for those experiences. My heart raged with envy and sadness.

My sadness developed into fear. I was now severely limited to how many children I could have due to having a c-section. I don’t really feel called to have seven or eight kids, but I’d still like to have a hand-full. However, since the chances of me having repeat c-sections are very high, having a lot of babies puts me at risk. I immediately thought that God didn’t think I had it in me to be the mother of many children and this was his way of stopping it before it happened. I felt like a failure as a woman. My body had failed me and I was afraid it was because I didn’t take very good care of myself. If only I had not eaten such crappy food and exercised more and drank water. Then I wouldn’t have gotten pre-eclampsia and I wouldn’t have had to endure all this. I played the “What If” game constantly.

It’s one thing to go into labor and push for hours and hours and not progress and then have to have a c-section. But I didn’t get any of that. No water breaking, no excitement of dilation, nothing. I felt no labor pains whatsoever. I didn’t even come remotely close to having to push. I didn’t even feel the pressure when they took Joe out of me. The only pains I got were from the magnesium sulfate and I think I would have rather dealt with the contractions. I didn’t experience one iota of the birth I wanted. It wasn’t fair. It was like I went to the hospital to get treated for high blood pressure and I got a baby out of it.

Many people tried to make me feel better. “Now the next time you have a baby you can pretty much pick the due date!” That doesn’t make things better at all. It’s like saying, “Hey, your dog just died, but next time you want to get a dog you can pick out any kind you want!” My sister, who also had a c-section, said to me, “Oh, c-sections are the way to go. No contractions or pushing! It’s great!” Well, considering I’m the freak that wanted all that gory painful stuff, that was a no-go in the feel good department. I appreciated people attempting to cheer me up, but it just wasn’t working.

I was starting to get a little worried about myself. Why was I so upset about having a c-section? Did I need therapy? Was I going crazy? I did a little research online and learned that there are many women out there who suffered the same feelings of disappointment and sadness over their c-section. These feelings come close to post-traumatic stress disorder. I was relieved to have my feelings validated. It didn’t lessen the pain, but I took comfort in knowing that I wasn’t alone.

10 ½ Months Later

Each day the pain has lessened. I am not thinking constantly about my c-section. I focus on the good part of my c-section- my perfectly healthy baby boy. C-sections are performed for a reason. If I didn’t have this surgery Joe and I could have died- that’s how bad my blood pressure was. It wasn’t like Dr. M was getting impatient and had a 1:30 tee time- this had to be done for the sake of our health. I should be thankful for this medical technology because if it weren’t for a c-section things could be a lot worse. God not only designed our bodies to give birth naturally, but also in a way that a child could be born in another form to save the life of the baby and mother.

I often wonder if I would have been able to deliver Joe if I wouldn’t have gotten pre-eclampsia. Joe was 2 weeks early (one of the nurses thought he was actually 3 weeks early) and he was basically 9 lbs. How much more would he weigh if he cooked a little longer? Could I have managed delivering a big baby since I am so short? A friend of mine told me that one of her close friends was against any kind of drugs or monitoring or c-section and her baby actually died in the birth canal because she was smothered. The thought of that happening scares me to no end.

Sometimes my scar will itch, or I’ll notice the skin around my scar is still slightly numb and I will re-live it all over again. This scar will be with me the rest of my life. My uterus- my precious womb- where my future children will be conceived and beautifully developed now has been defiled with a scar.

I often feel at odds with myself. I can’t believe how unbelievably upset I was over having a c-section. I have a healthy baby- isn’t that all that matters?! But don’t I have that right to mourn the loss of the birth I wanted? Pregnancy, labor and delivery might not be a big deal to some women. It’s just part of life. But to me, it is something I looked forward to and believe to be a huge part of my life and vocation. But then again, some women who ache for a baby of their own would gladly have c-sections if it meant holding their own child in their arms. Women have miscarriage after miscarriage. Women have stillborn babies. How selfish am I to be to mad about not getting the birth I wanted? It’s a constant war within my heart.

I am not as upset about having a c-section as I was when Joe was first born. I’m sure the nice post-partum hormone cocktail I was served didn’t help matters any. The sadness has worn away and it is kind of hard to describe my feelings now. My c-section haunts me every so often. It's still hard to read birth stories, but the envy is fading.

VBAC Hopes

My hopes of having a future VBAC (Vaginal Birth after Cesarean) immediately began in the hospital. I remember asking Dr. M why the induction failed. Being on the magnesium sulfate didn’t help matters any. Plus, Joe just wasn’t ready to come on down. He was still very high while still inside me and was happy on staying that way. I asked him if he thought I could have VBAC someday and he thought it would be possible since it seemed my pelvis would be wide enough to deliver. He informed me that he didn’t do VBAC’s since the hospital wasn’t equipped to handle that big of procedure and that I would have to go to a bigger hospital.

He seemed to change his tune at my 6 week post-partum check-up. I asked him what he thought about VBAC’s. His immediate response: “I don’t like them.” Followed by, “My wife had 2 of them after our first born, but that was when I was a resident.” Oooookay??? So, when you are resident your super-human doctor wisdom hasn’t come in yet? Dr. M is a wonderful man and doctor; I just don’t think he likes to give negative news. He said his wife said in hindsight that she just wished she would have had repeat c-sections. If she really thought that then why did she have TWO VBAC’s? He also said that I’m always going to have big babies and that I probably won’t be able to deliver naturally. I don’t really know what to believe with him. However, I don’t live where he practices anymore, so I guess it doesn’t really matter.

I am currently researching here and there about VBAC’s. I’m thinking about joining my local ICAN chapter. I want to educate myself on both sides. I refuse to be pulled into the polarizing debate over giving birth. I’m not one of these people who think that hospitals and doctors are evil and doctors push for c-sections so they can get more money to install a tennis court in their backyard. I believe there are genuinely caring hospitals and doctors who want the best for their patients. I am not anti-c-section. But I don’t think that VBAC’s are a horrible option that will automatically result in death. I might be mistaken, but I think I read somewhere that Michelle Duggar of 19 Kids and Counting fame has had multiple c-sections and VBAC’s. Her uterus hasn’t exploded or fallen out, so that gives me hope. I’d like to set up camp moderately between these two differing sides.

The thought of having a VBAC is scary. I wish I wasn’t in a position to decide between putting myself in a situation where I could lose my life and baby or having a procedure that devastates me and can also put my life at risk. I wish it would have all gone the “normal” way the first time.

I prayed to God shortly after Joe was born to guide me in this decision to have a VBAC. Some days I’ll be driving a long and I’ll just say, “God, give me the wisdom to make the right choice on having a VBAC if I ever get pregnant again.” I haven’t had any clear-cut answers, but I’m really hoping he gives me an answer when I need it the most. I’m hoping for success. I went to a general doctor’s appointment a few months after Joe was born and the doctor there mentioned that Dr. M did an awesome job with my c-section. She said the scar was very small. I’m hoping that will be a good factor in a successful VBAC.

I wonder how I will feel if I do attempt a VBAC and still have to have a c-section. Will I be even more devastated? Or will I be satisfied in knowing I did everything I could and tried with all my might to have the birth I wanted? How will I feel if I have a successful VBAC? Will it be an even more rewarding experience than if I would have delivered normally the first time?

While I still get sad from time to time about having a c-section, I do believe that God has a plan. I gave him the control and this is what happened, so it must be for the best. I know it is for the best because as I type this post, with tears in my eyes, I lay next to my son. My perfect, healthy baby who came to me in a way I didn’t want or expect, but still came and changed my life for the better.