Writing About C-sections... again!

I'm over at the awesome Fumbling Toward Grace blog writing about mommy wars and c-sections. Hop on over there if you'd like!

Also, I'd like to add kind of an addition because this is the third time this has come up. I don't mean to scold those women who say to other women who have just had a c-section, "I'm sorry you had to have a c-section." The reason it bothers me is that it was said to me when I had my first c-section and that really knocked me down a few pegs. I was already upset that my birth didn't go the way I had planned. I understand these friends just wanted to share in my mourning, but I just needed to hear "He is so cute!" "How are you feeling? You look fabulous!" and "Anything I can do to help you guys out?" That might just be me. I'm a sensitive soul. I've had a couple comments from women hoping they didn't hurt their friend's feelings by expressing their sorrow at them having to have a c-section. I doubt they did hurt their friends' feelings. Still, if you are dealing with a postpartum, major surgery recovering, natural birth wanting mother then these words can possibly sting.

That being said, I don't think that women who are mourning over having a c-section when they so desperately wanted a vaginal birth should be made to feel like they have nothing to be sorrowful about. When I expressed my feelings of heartbreak over having a c-section I had a few people make me feel like a horrible monster. I was healthy and so was my baby and that's all that should matter. Well... that is true... but for a woman who just had her birthing dreams dashed, she has the right to mourn. It took me a long time to come to the realization that birth isn't just about the mom and that I am not always in control and that God's will doesn't always match up with my own. But when your incision on you abdomen is still fresh so is that incision on your heart from your birthing dreams were dashed. Here is an example. Some women dream their whole lives of having the perfect wedding and they have that vision stuck in their head. Then a freak snow storm occurs and half the guest list doesn't show up and flowers all wilt and the groom gets their late  because his car slid off into a ditch. Some of us envision our birthing experience for years like we do our wedding day. A c-section can be that freak snow storm. Yes, you still got married, and the wedding was just one day, but we often look back on our wedding day and we want to look back knowing it went the way we had dreamed. The same thing goes for the day you give birth to your child.

Anywho, I just had to get that off my chest. C-sections are a very sensitive topic for some women. For others they are all about the repeat c-section and have no problems going back under the knife. My main goal for this blog post on Sarah's blog is to point out to people that c-sections are a big deal for some women, both physically and emotionally.

So You're Gonna Have a C-Section

I have had two c-sections. One was an emergency, the second one was scheduled after hoping for a VBAC. After each birth I was extremely disappointed that my body wasn't "normal" and I couldn't have the vaginal birth I had always dreamed of.

Since then I've often thought about women who go through c-sections. We're often pitied upon because we either didn't get the birth we "wanted" or we didn't have a "normal" birth. I also think we're treated differently by the medical community. The joy and excitement of birth suddenly becomes just a routine surgery. But that's a whole other post for another day.

Sometimes c-sections can't be helped. There are many times when surgery is medically necessary. Thank God for modern medicine, because I imagine that if I would have lived 300 years ago my baby and I would not have survived due to my high blood pressure.

C-sections can be scary. It's major surgery. There is no getting around that. Women go into the operating room not knowing what the hell is going on and I believe that's just wrong. We have baby books and magazine articles and butt-loads of birth stories involving vaginal delivery. We know what to expect in those situations. But c-section stories? There aren't that many out there. First of all, they're kind of boring. The surgery is pretty much the same if it's planned or emergency. Secondly, a lot of women don't have an outlet to tell their story.

Even though c-sections are not ideal, the birth of a child should be celebrated, no matter how the baby came into the world.

The purpose of this blog post is to be as detailed as possible about how my two c-sections went. Of course my experience will be different than other women's. People react differently with medications. Doctors and nurses have different personalities. I was lucky enough to have two really good c-section experiences. My situation is different in that I never experienced labor or pushed. My emergency c-section was due to an induction that went on for two days and nothing was happening. My blood pressure kept climbing dangerously high and the only thing to help both Joe and I was delivery by c-section.

I don't think there was anything too out of the ordinary with my c-sections, so hopefully my experiences can prepare other women for what to expect during a c-section. I also included some tips for recovery and some things to think about in terms of c-section scar cosmetics.

BEFORE SURGERY

Emergency c-section:

I was sent to the hospital for observation because I had high blood pressure. It wasn't going down, so they admitted me to be induced. The nurses and doctor had a "wait and see" attitude. After about 48 hours of magnesium sulfate hell, bed rest, no drinking and no eating (in case I had to have surgery they didn't want me to vomit up the contents of my stomach and possibly aspirate), and no progress from Cytotec or Pitocin the doctor said it was time to have a c-section. It wasn't a "it will be later this afternoon" it was a "I'm going to go get ready right NOW." I had 20 minutes to prepare myself.

Like I said before, it wasn't like I had stalled in dilating or had no progress in pushing and then they decided to do a c-section. But I imagine the whole going into surgery in 20 short minutes feeling is the same "holy crap" feeling regardless of the situation. My "labor" had consisted of me burning up and shaking and DYING of thirst due to the magnesium sulfate.  Part of me kept wanting to keep trying the induction, but in some way I was relieved to get the whole thing over with.

While the doctor was getting ready, the nurse came in with THE DRINK. I had no clue what this little tiny plastic shot glass type cup was. She told me to drink it and it helps prevent one from throwing up during surgery. She warned me that it didn't taste good, but just try to imagine it was a margarita. I drank it down in one gulp and oh em gee... it tasted HORRIBLE! It was very tart/soury/bitter and just bleck.... The purpose of this drink is to netralize stomach acids so I wouldn't throw up during surgery and aspirate the vomit into my lungs. I put on my blue hair net thingy, settled back into my bed and was wheeled to surgery. Ryan stayed behind to put on his scrubs.

Planned c-section:

I was told not to eat or drink anything after midnight before my surgery. Same reason as before- so I wouldn't vomit during surgery and aspirate. I swear this was the hardest part of the whole thing. I'm like a freaking hobbit when I am NOT pregnant. When I'm pregnant I'm like a hobbit who is high and I want to EAT ALL THE FOOD!!! It was tough.

We had to get to the hospital at the butt-crack of dawn. I checked in the admission office then went upstairs to the birth place. Instead of it being a very laid-back "we'll see what happens" atmostphere, it was very down to the point. It was very structured and routine. I was handed a gown, was weighed and got into the bed. A nurse came to ask the same questions I swear I'd been asked 15 million times before. A lab tech came into draw some blood. Another nurse put in an IV. My blood pressure was checked. I was hooked up to a contraction and baby heart monitor. It was all very systematic. The "routine-ness" kind of overwhelmed me, but thankfully the nurses were nice and their laid back attitude calmed me down.

My husband and I hung out for awhile. My nurse sat there and chatted with us. My doctor came by and visited and told us to give the anesthesiologist's assistant grief for being Jesuit.. They brought Ryan a breakfast tray which I eyed like maniac. Then they brought the nasty drink. I drank it. I had about 20 minutes until I was going to go to the O.R. and I felt really sick. I went to the bathroom but nothing came out. I don't know if was just nerves or from the drink.

I came back to the room at the anesthesiologist was there. He asked me a bunch of questions and asked if I had any concerns. I had vomited everywhere with my first c-section (more on that later), and I told him I would like to avoid that this time, and he said they'd put some anti-nausea meds in my IV. I also told him I wanted a spinal block instead of an epidural since that is what I had with my first c-section. He left and we had just a few minutes to spare. The nurse came in and shaved a little bit of hair off my belly and bikini area for sterilization reasons.

I put on my blue hair net and walked to the O.R. This was a huge victory for me. I was on bed rest before because of my high blood pressure and had to be wheeled to the O.R. I felt so helpless and defeated. This time I walked with pride and courage.

Like my first c-section, Ryan stayed behind to put his scrubs on.

ANESTHESIA

Emergency c-section:

Being wheeled into the O.R. was kind of scary. I was by myself. The room was very bright and steel-y. There were three or four nurses there waiting, but I couldn't tell who was who because they had the surgical masks on. It was freezing cold. They had to shift me on to the operating table from my hospital bed. Made me feel like a 300 lb woman. They had me sit at the edge of the hospital bed to administer the anesthesia. I felt kind of weird having my lumpy buttcrack showing for all the world to see, but I had 5 different nurses and a doctor look at my hoo-hah during my hospital stay, so I wasn't too worried about my buttcrack.

The anesthesiologist came in and told me he was going to use a spinal block instead of an epidural because it was faster. I sat on the edge of operating table. A nurse stood in front of me and I hunched over as far as I could and she supported me while the anesthesoligst did his thing. The nurse was really nice and helped me relax. She told me to focus on relaxing my shoulders. The anesthesolist warned me that he was going to injecting me with some stuff to numb me before he actually did the spinal. He said it would feel like a bee sting, and that's what if felt like. Just a sharp prick. It hurt just for a second.

Then he started on with the spinal. I couldn't feel anything on my back as he was putting the spinal block in. It was still nerve wracking waiting. It was about 10 minutes of "OK I can still feel my legs... what's the hold up here?" That was probably the thing that scared me the most- the spinal not working. I was hunched over for what seemed like forever and I suddenly I felt a zap-zinging feeling in my crotch. The anethesiologist asked if I felt anything. I said yes, and then the zinging feeling went down my left leg, then my right, and then slowly I couldn't feel my legs. The nurse helped lay me on the table. I tried so hard to to move my toes, but it just wasn't happening. It was so weird, but kind of cool. I could still move my arms.

They put me on some light oxygen and I laid back waiting for the show to start.

Planned c-section:

I walked into the operating room with my nurse. It was freeeeeezing cold. Lots of weird equipment. I used a step stool to get on the operating table. Like my first surgery, I leaned over on my nurse and the anesthesiologist assistant came to give me the numbing shot. It stung like before, but only hurt for a second or two. I asked him if he was Benedictine trained and that just started a whole fun/joking conversation about theology. It took awhile to get the spinal block in, maybe 10 minutes. I was shaking because I was so cold and nervous. Like my first c-section, I was scared that the spinal wouldn't work, but then the coolest thing happened. It wasn't a zinging feeling like before... it felt like someone slowly laid a nice warm blanket on my legs. I stopped shaking. It was actually quite relaxing.

I had a choice this time whether to chose a spinal or an epidural. I went with a spinal because it is what I had before so I knew what to expect. Plus, it wears off faster than an epidural and I'd be able to get up and move around sooner.

The nurse helped get me settled onto the table and they put me on some oxygen and I waited. During this time they inserted a catheter. I couldn't feel it, but let me tell you, I was SO THANKFUL I couldn't. With my first c-section I was on bed rest during the induction, so they inserted a catheter a day or so before the c-section. It was the most uncomfortable thing I've probably ever experienced, and that includes having surgery. It sucked so bad.... so needless today when I asked the nurse when I was going to get my catheter and she said when I was numbed up, I almost french kissed her.

THE SURGERY

Emergency c-section:

I laid back and they placed my arms outstretched and secured them down. They placed a blue curtain up separating me from where they were going to do surgery. I don't know if this was normal, or if I just have a very short torso, but it was all up in my face. The nurses were really good about making sure it was out of my way.

It was that time that Ryan came in and sat next to my head. Everyone was doing stuff around me, and Ryan and I were just nervously chatting. I didn't even know my doctor was there and I heard them say "We're scraping a knife against your abdomen." I could not feel a single thing. At this time they were cutting and suctioning out the amniotic fluid.  I swear what was like 2 minutes later I saw the blue sheet rustle around- they were getting Joe out. The nurse said, "You might feel some pressure" but I felt nothing at all. The nurses were all "There he is!" and "Hi peanut!" but I didn't hear him cry right away. Babies born vaginally get all the mucus and crap in their lungs and nose squeezed out of them in the birth canal, but not c-section babies. They had to use a bulb syringe and suction him out, and then I heard his little bubbly cries.

The nurses took Joe to the warmer to do their assessment. That's when I started getting the shakes. With the exit of the baby my body's hormones were all effed up. I was shaking so badly until they put a warm blanket around my arms and chest. Ryan left my side to go cut the cord and see our son.

A few minutes after he was born they brought him to me. I couldn't hold him, but the nurse put him right up to my face. It was the weirest thing. Here was this baby I had been carrying within me for 9 months and there he was in person! I was still in shock from everything... being induced 2 weeks early, a failed induction and an emergency c-section. It was all very surreal.

They took Joe out of the O.R. to get weighed and Ryan went with him. I felt no pain, but was starting to get woozy. Suddenly, I had to barf. It just hit me like a ton of bricks. The anesthesiologist got me a little tray and I upchucked in it. Not sure if it was from the spinal, or hormones or what it was, but I had felt fine one second and the next it was like a scene from The Exorcist.

I felt better after that and I just waited around for them to stitch me up. I felt nothing. I started feeling loopy. My memories of being wheeled out are kind of fuzzy. I remember talking about the Kansas City Chiefs. I also remember them wheeling me out and there was a thing that contained all the bloody rags from the surgery. I asked "Are those my guts?" Yeah, I was majorly out of it.

Planned c-section:

Everything was pretty much the same as my first c-section. They didn't strap my arms down. They put the blue curtain up and my husband came in and we all just chatted. I was kind of weirded out by the anethsisa. I couldn't feel anything, but it almost felt like that weird prickly feeling when your arm falls asleep... like you can ALMOST feel it. I was a little worried about that but pushed it out of my head. I was wondering what the hell the hold up was, and asked if my doctor was there yet. "Yeah, I'm here! We got you open now!" I guess the anethsisa was working well, because again, I felt absolutely nothing!

The doctor, anethsiologist's assistant and I were joking about Benedictines vs. Jesuits while everyone else was probably wondering what the hell these Catholic weirdos were talking about. One of the other doctors assisting my OB said I'd feel pressure. Again, I felt nothing, just saw a lot of rustling of my blue sheet shield. Lots of "Yays!" and "Awwwws!" and I heard Sam's very loud gurgly cries. They lifted him up enough for Ryan to see. I was expecting Sam to go right away to the warmer, but my doctor brought him to see me, upside down and all gooey from birth!

My doctor took Sam to the warmer where they did their assement. Again, Ryan went over there, but this time didn't cut the cord. Then they brought him to me. Since my arm wasn't strapped down I was able to touch him, but I didn't feel comfortable holding him.

Ryan went with Sam to the nursery where the nurses continued their assessment. I laid there and got the shakes and they placed a warm blanket over me. I didn't feel sick at all. In fact I felt totally and completely relaxed. It was such a chill, zen feeling. The anthestiologist got a slightly cool rag and wiped my forehead. He said, "We're going to treat you like you're at a spa. Just close your eyes and relax." I never fell asleep, but I just felt sooooo good. Not over woozy or out of it. Just very peaceful. It was freaking awesome. Now that I'm writing this I wish I could go back and get that feeling again.... sign me up, yo!

I understand that some women won't have the same relaxing experience while getting stitched back up. Some babies are rushed to the NICU or to surgery and I cannot imagine how scary that must be. I was laying there knowing my babies were in good hands and were healthy. I guess the only thing I can say is if your baby is rushed to the NICU, just try to be calm. Trust the medical professionals around you. Focus on this one part of getting sewn up and then focus on the details when they are finished with you. 

They transferred me to a hospital bed and wheeled me out. Things are kind of fuzzy when they were wheeling me out.

POST SURGERY

Emergency c-section:

The hospital where I had Joe did all their assements of newborns in the mother's rooms. They had a portable warmer, so when they wheeled me back to my room Joe was already waiting for me. I didn't have to wait at all, soon they placed him in my arms and I got to work breastfeeding.

After about 30 minutes or so they brought me some food and water. Remember I hadn't eaten or drank anything in 48 hours so I devoured the broth and orange popsicle. Aaaaaaaaand it all came back up, all over me. Not sure if it was the drugs I was on, or the hormones or I ate too fast, but it was nasty. I've heard of other c-section mams throwing up after delivery, so be wary!

You still can't feel your legs for quite awhile after surgery. I think it was maybe 4 or 5 hours before I got feeling back in my legs. During that time they put these things that wrap around your legs. They inflate and deflate. The purpose of these is so you don't get blood clots in your legs. At first they feel pretty awesome, like a massage. But I had to wear mine longer than normal because I was still on bed rest because my blood pressure never went down. They started to itch like crazy.

The nurses came in and periodically checked my incision. They said everything looked great. It was not until later that night of my surgery with Joe that I started to feel pain. It wasn't excrutiating, just bothersome. Pain medicatoin helped that. The nurse took off the wrapping to my incision later that night. I thought it was kind of soon, but she told me the incision heals better if it's not all trapped up in bloody bandages.

My post-birth story isn't really the same as normal c-sections because although Joe was safe and healthy, I was not. My blood pressure kept sprialing out of control. Thankfully my recovery was easy, because I had to focus on my health!

Planned c-section:

Sam's assement was done in the nursery, so when they wheeled me back to my room I had to wait about 10 minutes before Ryan brought him to me. My doctor came in to talk about how the surgery went, which was perfect. Finally they brought Sam to me and I started to nurse. They brought me food, which I ate and didn't throw up this time. It was a really great experience.

I had to wear the blood clot preventer leg thingies, but only for about 24 hours. They still drove me crazy at the end. My catheter was removed about 24 hours after my surgery. However, I was able to get up and walk about 10 hours after my surgery. I felt like an old woman, all hunched over because I was afraid to stand up straight. I got tired very easily, but tried to walk as much as I could, little by little.

Pain-wise, I was in a lot of it. But it wasn't all from the c-section- it was from breastfeeding. When you breastfeed after birth your uterus contracts. It hurts. But with each delivery the breastfeeding contractions get worse. It hurt SO SO bad for me. I didn't know what was going on and I was scared to death that my inner incision was busted open or something. I called in the nurse and she told me that it was from breastfeeding. Since it was my second delivery it was gong to hurt more than last time. No one ever told me that!

Like my first hospital stay, the nurses checked on my incision often. The dressing over the incisoin was removed later that night.

GOING HOME

Emergency c-section: 

Again, my situaton with Joe was different, because my blood pressure remained high after delivery. I believe a typical stay for after a cescarean birth is 3-4 days. I had Joe on a Thursday morning. If all went well, I could have left on Saturday. I didn't leave until Monday because I was in such bad shape. Needless to say, I was ready to get the hell out of there. They used medical glue for my incision, so there was nothing they had to do with my incision. They just gave me tons of instructions and I finally went home.

Planned c-section:

Everything went very well with my c-section. Thanks be to God I didn't have blood pressure issues. My c-section was on a Monday morning. My doctor said I could leave on Wednesday and the latest I could stay was Friday. I was like "Hell yeah, I'm going to blow this popsicle stand ASAP!" However, on Tuesday night I felt very weak and tired since I had gotten out of bed a lot. I decided to wait until Thursday. As much as I wanted to get back to my own home and to Joe, I really needed that extra day of rest at the hospital. Thankfully my nurses were AWESOME so staying wasn't that big of a deal for me.

With this c-section they used staples to close my incision. Before I left they had to take out the staples and put on steri-strips. It felt uncomfortable, but it wasn't too terribly bad. I think I had taken some pain meds about 30 minutes before that, so that probably helped.  

RECOVERY

Emergency c-section:

Despite me being so sick from my high blood pressure, my recovery went very well. They used medical glue, so I had no problems with my incision. I don't even really remember if it bled. The pain at the incision felt like a big, major cat scratch. My pain meds took care of that. Most of the time I just felt achy. Thankfully my husband helped out a lot since he had a lot of paternity leave, so my physical recovery was pretty quick and easy, maybe 4 or 5 weeks. Mentally... well... that's another story. 

Planned c-section:

Recovery was very tough this go around. I'm relatively sure that was due to the fact I had a 2 year old boy to take care of in addition to a newborn and my husband had to go back to work fairly soon. I just didn't get the rest my body needed. I was in a lot of pain. It was a good 6 or 7 weeks before I felt normal again.

I did have a problem with my incision. The doctor told me to leave the steri-strips on until about a week after I was discharged. He told me to call him if there was any major oozing coming from the incision. Well, it was a week later and my steri-strips were still barely hanging on. I looked in a mirror and noticed they were yellowed and when I wiped with a cloth there was what looked like yellow pus. Plus, it smelled awful down there. I was sure I had an infection. I called the doctor and went in early the next morning. He took a look at my incision and said it was perfectly normal. My incision had a little bit of discharge, but that was normal. It was yellow because of the steri strips. The steri strips were also causing the gross rotten smell. He said that after awhile, the bacteria on the steri strips causes a reaction, and that's what the smell was. I was relived that everyhting was OK, but wish I had known about that so I wouldn't have freaked out. They told me to take some gauze with peroxide on it and wipe down my incision a few times a day to keep it clean.

TIPS FOR RECOVERY

*Use a hair dryer to dry your incision after a shower. A nurse told me this tip with my first c-section and I am so glad she did! I didn't feel comfortable patting down my incisoin to dry it, so I used a hair dryer. It made it nice and dry and helped with itching.

*Get as much rest as you can. Get as much help as you can. You are recovering from major surgery. Don't try to be all, "I'm a woman, I can handle this shit!" If you feel up to cleaning the kitchen, either talk your self out of it, or do about half as much as you would normally do, because you will pay for it later.

*Get everything you need and place it around you. Books, lotion, computer, water, snacks, whatever you need. That way you don't have to get up all the time and you don't have to annoy your husband by asking him to get you every little thing.

*But before you become a complete couch potato, do get some VERY light exercise. And when I mean exercise, I mean walk from one side of your house the other. The next day, walk around the outide of your house. The next day maybe walk down the street. The next day walk around the block. Start of slow, but you NEED some sort of activity or it will be harder to recover.

*Take your pain pills if you need them. You might feel like Linsday Lohan the first week or two with as many pills as you pop, but the better you feel, the more you can move around and the faster you will get better.

*If you have to cough or sneeze or laugh, press a pillow in your abdomen. It helps, trust me. 

*It's normal to feel numb around your scar. This numbness may be there for years. It's weird, but normal.

*DRINK WATER! This is so important if you are nursing, but it is also essential for overall well being. Water is awesome. I am so not even joking! DRANK!

*It's going to seem like you will be in pain/achy/tired FOREVER. You're going to think that having a c-section was probably the worst thing that could have happened to you. But remember, vaginal births have recovery time as well, just not nearly as long. Expect to be in pain and sore and shitty for 4 to 6 weeks. Each day will get better, I promise. Then in 6 months you'll be like, "Let's do this again!!!"

COSMETIC

Some women are very self-conscence of their scars. Most are barely noticeable and are low enough so if you wear a binki, it can't be seen.

But if you are fat like me and your belly looks like this: 

My boobs are much bigger

.... then you won't even see your incison because it's covered up by a nice apron of fat. Because of this I've never really worried about what my scar looks like.


There are natural remedies out there to reduce scarring, but I honestly don't know much about them.

However, there is one thing that I learned with my second c-section. My scar from my first c-section developed into a keloid. I had never heard this until I was on the operating table and my doctor said he was "cutting out the keloid". I was like "Ehhhh... what in the hell is a keloid?!" It's just excess collagen built up around the scar. That's why I always thought my c-section scar looked like a tiny earth worm across my belly. He said even though he was removing it, there was chance my second incision would develop into a keloid, which it has. Oh well.

*************************************************************************

I think that's all I have for y'all. Again, every situation is different. Complications from c-sections can happen. I don't want to sugar coat anything. But knowledge is power, and the more you know going into a c-section, the less scary it will be. For some, c-sections are no big deal. For some women, the thought of surgery scares the bejesus out of them. But just think of it this way: you're letting someone cut you open while you are still awake. That's pretty bad ass.

Focus on the positive. Focus on the new life that you brought forth. Focus on completing the end of your pregnancy journey.

Please feel free to email me if you have questions. Also, if any of you other c-section mamas have anything to add, please do so in the comments! (I'm not smart enough to host a link-up.)

I hope this helps!

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.

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.

Baby Joe's Birth Story Part Three

Baby Joe's birth story is a long one, so I'm going to break it up into parts. If there are crazy misspellings or words that just plain don't make sense, forgive me- I'm a new mommy!

You can read Part One here and Part Two here.

Part Three

The anesthesiologist soon came in to ask me a bunch of questions. The nurse came in and gave me a nasty drink for my stomach. She said to pretend it was a margarita. That didn’t help! I had mom take one last picture of Ryan and me and soon I was wheeled off to surgery at 8:30 a.m. while Ryan went to wash up and get some O.R. scrubs on.

I was surprisingly calm. Perhaps because everything was happening so quickly I didn’t have time to be scared. I went somewhat emotionally numb and thought of being wheeled to surgery as something as routine as going to ultrasound or to the lab.

However when I got into the actual O.R. I got nervous. There were people already there waiting for me and I couldn’t tell who they were since they were all in scrubs and face masks. My doctor was in there and it just felt awkward that everyone was there waiting around just for me. I was transferred to the operating table and had to sit on the edge while the anesthesiologist administered the spinal block. He said it would feel like a bee sting when the needle entered my back. It hurt, but wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Then the strange feelings started. I felt a zinging sting shoot in my private region and I let out a little shout. “Where do you feel that?” he asked. I think I said, “In my crotch!” Sigh… face palm! I can’t believe I had said that out loud! Then the shooting feeling went down my right leg and then my left. They laid me down and I waited for Ryan. I looked down at my feet and tried to move them. It was the weirdest feeling. My brain was convinced that I could move my toes but they weren’t budging.

Soon Ryan came by my side. They put up the blue curtain at my chest and gave me oxygen and put some heart monitors on my chest. Then I heard someone say they were scraping sharp objects on my belly. I didn’t feel a thing. Before I knew it they were warning me that I’d feel a bunch of pressure (which I didn’t) and then I heard the nurses say “Here he is!” at 8;52 a.m. and I heard his little cry. Tears filled my eyes and dripped down my face. Ryan left my side to go see our son as they worked on putting me back together. He got to cut the cord, which made me so happy that he got that experience. I heard the nurses say “Keep crying, keep crying!” to our baby. I didn’t have a chance to get too worried because I started getting the shakes and they put a warm blanket around me. The nurses kept saying, “Hi little peanut!” and my doctor said, “That ain’t no peanut- that’s a Brazilian nut!”

Then the moment I had waited 9 months for had finally arrived. The nurse brought my son over to me and I got to gaze upon him for the first time. My first thought was, “Oh my goodness, he’s so cute!” He was perfect in every way. Then he was whisked away to my hospital room and Ryan went with him. I was still being stitched up when the nausea hit. A nurse held a bowl next to my head and I threw up- a lot.

I was finally wheeled out of the O.R. and back to my room. My parents and Ryan’s parents got to see Joe for a few minutes while they weighed him and did his footprints. They were leaving the room as I was wheeled in. Now, even though I was pretty upset that I had to have a c-section, I have to thank God that the hospital I was in is very pro-mother, pro breastfeeding and stresses the importance of bonding. Some hospitals won’t let the mother see or hold her baby for an hour after her surgery. Not this hospital. I didn’t have to go to a recovery room- I recovered in my own hospital room. No visitors were allowed- it was just Ryan, Joe and me. I got to hold my son minutes after I was wheeled back into my room.

It was an amazing feeling to hold Joe for the first time. I had imagined what he was going to look like and he was much more handsome than I ever envisioned him to be. Here was this new little person who I had never seen before, but I was so in love. It’s like I had known him forever.

Another blessing with this hospital is they stress the importance of breastfeeding. It was less than an hour after he was born that I breastfed him for the first time. I was a little nervous since everywhere I had read stated how it can be a great challenge to breastfeed for the first time. The nurse also warned me it may be even harder for me since I had a c-section and because the mag that was pumped into me was in Joe’s system as well, which makes him really sleepy. But for all the challenges I had gone through, breastfeeding actually came pretty easy for Joe and I. It took a couple tries to get a good latch-on, but he picked it up fairly quickly. It was such a natural relaxing feeling to feed my son with my own body.

Ryan and I spent the rest of the hour holding our son. We were quiet, tired, and beyond happy. The nurse took our first family photos.

Before I knew it, my hour of recovery time was up. My mom came in to keep us company. That’s when the nurses came with my first meal. Of course it was just popsicles, broth and jello, but since this was Thursday and I hadn’t eaten anything since Tuesday afternoon, I was grateful for any kind of food! I ate part of my orange popsicle and I guess my stomach couldn’t handle that because I vomited everywhere. It was pure orange liquid. It got all over me, but I was so tired and out of it with the pain pills that I didn’t even really care.

The nurses gave me a new gown and cleaned me up. The magnesium I was on had pretty much stopped my bowels from working so I wasn’t quite ready for food yet.

After that ordeal I was so dead tired. I just wanted to sleep but then the breast feeding consultant came in. She was right on time because Joe was ready to eat again. I, however, was NOT wanting to breastfeed at that time. I was falling asleep in the middle of sentences. I asked her if she could please come back later. She reminded me how important it was to nurse frequently to get a good start. I suddenly got a surge of adrenaline and sat up to feed Joe. The consultant showed me all the different nursing positions and made sure he was latched on well. She also showed me how to express colostrum to rub on his lips to get him to feed. The consultant didn’t have to stay long because Joe latched on well and was feeding perfectly.

I finally got a good long nap in while Ryan introduced Joe to his grandparents. The rest of the day was filled with visiting, lots of picture taking, and holding our bundle of joy. It was the day that forever changed my life and I was still in shock that it had come so soon!

I was so happy and content. But then I faced a new challenge- my very dangerously high blood pressure that stubbornly refused to go down.