By Mayberry Mom
In the weeks before my first child was born I never once entertained the idea that I would have a cesarean section. Although my girl was large (nearly nine and a half pounds, as it turned out), she was not breech and therefore, in my mind, there was no reason why she couldn’t be delivered vaginally. I read nothing about c-sections, did no mental preparation for the possibility. I could argue now that this was all part of my calm, positive outlook and desire to avoid a self-fulfilling prophecy. But I know now that it was all about denial.
After nearly 48 hours of labor and a baby still at -2 station, there was no denying that this baby was not coming out without surgical intervention. Famished and exhausted, I signed the consent forms. Less than 30 minutes later, my girl was in her father’s arms and I was being stitched back together.
And I was mostly fine with this turn of events. After all it brought my amazing firstborn to me, whole and healthy. My recovery was smooth and so was breastfeeding.
But still, the doubt crept in. Could I have done something differently? Stayed home longer, walked more, refused the pitocin administered after 24 hours of not-that-productive labor? Begged for more time?
So with my second baby, I vowed to be more proactive. With the support of my (new) doctor, I insisted on attempting a VBAC, despite “are you nuts?” comments from friends and acquaintances. In the calm weeks leading up to stork #2’s arrival, I walked miles and miles, hoping to induce labor naturally and goose that baby down, down, down into my pelvis. I took evening primrose oil and drank raspberry leaf tea. I visualized, prayed, hoped for the best.
Sure enough: when my boy was ready, my labor began and I dilated far faster than I had the first time. I walked the corridors of the hospital and bounced on a ball. The nurses and doctors left me alone with my husband to let my body do the work, calmly and with determination. And, for awhile, it did.
Until it didn’t, anymore. Seven centimeters dilated, for an hour, then two. When my son started showing signs of distress I once again made the trip from birthing suite to operating room. I once again was cut open so my child could emerge, freed from the cord that had twisted itself around his neck. Smaller than his sister, but with a shock of hair just like hers. Whole and healthy too.
And then, finally, I was calm in the knowledge that I had done everything I could to have the right birth, the one my baby and I both needed.
I’m Mayberry Mom, and I usually blog much more frivolously about life with my two no-longer-babies in a wholesome midwestern town. I’m honored to help blog-sit while Julie and Jonah are enjoying the quasi-calm that comes after the stork!
Isn’t it funny how we can second guess ourselves after going through something that difficult? I went through 31 hours of induced labor before my c-section (I actually made it to the pushing stage, but he was big and posterior). I knew that I did what I could, but it was still hard since I thought it was my only chance (because of infertility). I did do the VBAC the second time but, of course, it didn’t make me any more of a mother.
We get so wrapped up in planning things out of our control sometimes that we loose perspective. I’m glad you got yours back–I think a lot of women never do, which is unfortunate for them.
Great post!
Well, you already know my story. But it’s much like Katie’s – 30+ hours of induced labor, but I never got past 3cm. I was exhausted. And I had never considered that I might have to have a c-section in order to get that baby out.
It wasn’t a disappointment per se; more like disappointment in myself for having not been better prepared. But I never doubted that I gave it all I had before agreeing to the c-section.
Great post! After my first C-section I felt guilty and sad for a while. Then I followed some advice and took a very scientific approach, having my file reviewed by 2 obstetricians and a nurse-midwife who specializes in natural delivery. They walked through the weeks prior to delivery and the string of decisions that had led to the emergency. All three of them said the C-section was inevitable. All three said I was a bad candidate for a trial of labor the second time.
But it was the words of the second OB that really helped me. He said, “Learn to love Cesarians. You are alive because of them.”
I am alive because of C-sections, and so are these two beautiful little women. Once I could view a cesarian in a positive light, I could start easing up on myself and realizing what an infinitesmally small portion of my life the birth really was. It just didn’t matter much. Not like actual parenting matters.
Wow. I know how you feel – my third labor lasted for over 45 hours. But in the end, it doesn’t matter what way they entered the world, just as long as they (and you) are happy and healthy!
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I had an unplanned c-section with my first and for a long time I was determined to have a VBAC with any future children. By the time I got pregnant, my new ob advised that I have a c-section because unless I was going to have a 6 pound baby, I would have the same problem I had with my first. After I had my 8 pound 7 ounce son, I realized that a c-section had been the best choice for me even though I had had my doubts about it.
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