Birth StoryWe got to the hospital when my contractions had been 3-5 mins apart, they started 2pm the day before. It was either go there and find out that I was having a baby or wait an hour and see my Dr and possibly be told to go home. I was just done with pregnancy and hopeful so we went to the hospital. The nurse laughed and said something like "well you'll be leaving with a baby!" when she found out how far along I was so I was prepared to use pitocin if needed to regulate and make these contractions effective. I was really hoping that labor was actually active though.
Then she checked me and said I was still a 2, which made me feel upset. Then she said she didn't feel a head. I started to get panicky and she got a resident to do an ultrasound and sure enough, he was laying with his head on my left side, back to my chest, feet near my pelvis. At that point she said I'd need a version or a csection. I wanted to try a version (where they try to move the baby into the right position from the outside) since really the whole reason I was still pregnant at this point was because I wanted to be as natural as possible.
I was started on an IV to try and stop my contractions, so that they could do the version. It is my understanding that they would have started an epidural, then turned him, then used pitocin to get labor going again so he would come out. Versions are painful and not always effective but I was just trying to keep the hope that I would be able to give birth to him. I knew my hopes of having a real natural, empowering birth were not going to come true, but I still wanted to do as much as I could to have it be close.
I had a real sonogram done so that his size, fluid levels, placenta, etc could be determined. He was in the perfect position to turn, so it looked really hopeful. I had to wait 2 hours for the Dr to come in (not mine, the resident OB) and okay the version, so I knew that whatever happened I would have a long afternoon ahead and tried to sleep. The contractions did not stop, which made me worry because that could prevent the version from happening. When he looked at the baby with the sonogram his first words were “you’re breech” and my heart sank. In the short time since the previous ultrasound he did turn, but the wrong way. His feet were almost in the birth canal area, and his head was even closer to my chest then before. Due to where the placenta was any attempt to turn him could have detached it.
So my choice went out the window, and I started the process of a csection. It floored me how quick this part was. It was close to 2pm when the csection was decided on, he was out at 3:30p.m.
First I was left alone for a bit while they cleaned up the OR. I was so scared I was convulsing on the table. I could not hold my body still at all, it was impossible. I wondered how they could even do a csection on me if I was doing that. I was hooked up to more IV meds, then walked do the OR with the nurses while Alan changed into the scrubs. I asked as many questions as I could think of but then went silent. I was just praying to get through this. Lifehouse’s “Storm” was in my head the whole time, so though I didn’t get to listen to my labor music, I was happy that a song helped me through it anyway.
The spinal sucked. It pinched, it hurt, but in the end my legs stopped shaking and I could lay on the table. The OR was tiny and I felt so weird being practically strapped to the table. There was a sheet up blocking my view of anything, a blanket up to my chin and my arms strapped outward. I felt like passing out, the spinal made it hard to catch my breath and then all the other stuff just made me feel claustrophobic. I tried to move my blanket down a little (not the one blocking, the one by my chin) and everyone thought I was trying to get up and held me still until I explained that it was bothering me.
Once the surgery started he was out immediately. I felt so detached, there were conversations going on that had nothing to do with my baby. No one showed him to me at all when he was out. I only knew because they said “he’s out”. Alan watched him be born and I could barely make out what was happening in the reflection of his glasses. I had to keep telling myself “that is your baby!” because it was just the opposite of what I was used to. Usually labor to get the baby is long, then after you’re done and can hold him and be with the baby. The csection was SO fast and then I had to wait forever to hold the baby that was already out. It just seemed impossible that the same baby that I was just holding in me, was already part of the outside world.
Once he was weighed, cleaned up, and wrapped up Alan was able to bring him to me. I could hold his tiny hand and talk to him and finally feel like a part of the whole thing. When I was done being stapled together I was taken to recovery where I finally could hold my baby and feed him.
One of the nurses wanted his blood sugar checked because he was “big for his gestational age.” I was just annoyed because 8lbs isn’t a monster baby and he was a week overdue! It was 3 points low and at that point she pushed that he needed formula right then. I finally felt like I had a voice and told her that he hasn’t nursed enough yet and when he has we can test again and see if the blood sugar was still too low. She started getting really heated about it saying that he could have a seizure and I felt like she was talking down to me. I explained that I wasn’t against using formula if needed, I just wanted to be sure that it was needed first. Another nurse was on my side and took over while that nurse grabbed the formula. When he finished a good feed his sugar levels were checked and they had doubled, but that wasn’t enough for the nurse. She wanted them checked before a feed to be sure he really had enough so before the next feed he was checked again and though the levels were lower than after, they were still almost double the first reading. I never saw that nurse again. The formula is still sitting in the room.
Recovery from a csection is horrible compared to a vaginal birth. I am done having children (not permanently yet, but that will be coming). I cannot go through that again and do not feel like I have the fight in me for a vbac.
I couldn’t walk for 12 hours. In order to get my uterus to contract, they had to push on it. When I finally got to stand, the act of gravity made my room look like a horror movie. I was prodded, bothered, and woken every 2 hours.
I just wanted to go home. Even though I can’t sleep right now, I’m still happy to be home. The staples freak me out, yet I can’t stop looking at them.
Clayton is a perfect baby. He’s alert, strong, and nurses well. I am in love with him. So though the process was horrible, I am happy to have him and know that he is safe and healthy. I am recovering well, the nurses were all happy with the progress I have made and I will follow the rest orders so that I can be fully recovered soon.