I wonder if I am even able to write down Frances’s birth story – it’s so personal, and subjective. And then there’s the hind sight…if I had known this I’d have done that first. If I had known I’d labour for so long, I’d have gotten more rest first. If I had known that I was right, and my baby was fine, I’d have ripped that damn fetal monitor off my stomach and had a shower to relax and calm my tired self. If I had known that my husband would be so tired and overwhelmed, I’d have brought my sister along to support him and encourage us both.
This writing is a thank you to all the women on MDC who helped me through the trauma of my first birth experience. Your support and strength charges me up!
This story begins with the birth of our first daughter, Lydia. At 38 weeks, my husband and I picked up my mother from the airport on our way to a scheduled midwife appointment. My mother had a nagging urge to arrive ten days before she had planned, to help before the birth as well as after. We were nervous first timers, hoping for a homebirth, frightened and anxious about all the excitement surrounding the birth. Our midwife, Kellie, asked how I was feeling, and though I knew inside that something was happening, I replied, “I suppose I am only certain that I cannot prepare myself for what is coming. I can’t predict how much it will hurt, or how well I will handle it.” She smiled, and suggested we do a “stretch and sweep” to encourage cervix ripening. I agreed and we were both happy to find that I was in early latent labour, already 2cm dilated, and long and soft. Then she said, “Let me feel the head.” Then Kellie’s face changed. “Oh, Kate,” she sighed, “it’s not a head. I feel a foot.”
Gasp. Sob. Ceasarian Section. I have renamed it: belly-birth.
With this pregnancy, I was diagnosed wit Intra-Uterine Growth Restriction at 28 weeks. I had been monitored very closely, in consultation with a peri-natologist (two steps above an obstetrician) and it had been a struggle to maintain a No-intervention policy. I prayed and meditated that the baby would grow, the fluid levels would be maintained, the cord would be healthy…and also, I tried to really listen LISTEN to my body and my baby and my God for whether something was wrong, and that I would need to seek medical help. I prayed and meditated on clarity and trying to be honest with myself.
It all begins on Monday night and Tuesday night, when I only got 4 hours of sleep - bladder kept me up and Lydia, now 18 months old, was having a terrible outbreak of eczema. Poor thing. Wednesday morning I had another ultrasound at 8am and I was already having a hard day, tired, exhausted, and going to the hospital -Yukky! It was another check and see ultrasound related to the growth of the baby and the low fluid and high resistance in the umbilical cord. Lots of things were borderline and the consulting peri-natologist was starting to get a bit anxious. I was 38 weeks and 5 days. Fortunately, that obstetrician was not around (holidays, I think) and so I thought I'd just see the tech and all the info would go to the midwife and we'd talk about it on Monday. We had been taking a wait-and-see approach, and I wanted to continue to do that.
Well, the obstetrician that was in the ultrasound clinic, who was not really familiar with the case got really nervous and decided to send me upstairs to the case room. I was so freaked out b/c I am very uncomfortable in hospitals. Will was at home sleeping b/c he worked the night before and his mom was at our place taking care of Lydia. So I called the midwives and I totally broke down crying, I was so frightened. Since I was being admitted to the hospital and I was feeling very fragile, Susan came to meet me in the case room (where they check all the preggos to see who stays and who goes home) and Will met me there too. The idea was that the on call OB, upstairs in the case room would check my cervix to see if it was ripe b/c they were all concerned that the environment in utero would deteriorate as the placenta got older, so we might try an induction. At that point I was really frustrated, I kept thinking that if the peri-natologist were there then I wouldn’t have been sent upstairs. He was more familiar with my case, more confident in my trust in my body, and more understanding of my fear of hospitals and stand against intervention.
So I was very nervous, b/c I really did not want another c-sec. The first c-sec was very awful for me, I was very disempowered and the whole thing was a train wreck. I hated that Lydia was born that way, and that I didn't have a choice at all and so it was very traumatic. I was really having to stand my ground for weeks so that the peri wouldn't schedule another c-sec. Seriously, for me, Lydia's birth was terrible. I felt like a science project. Strapped down and paralyzed and my baby being torn from my body.
So on that Wednesday morning, Mar 1, we (Susan the midwife, Will, my dh, the on call OB, and I) agreed to a non-stress test which means monitoring the baby's heart rate and checking to see that it goes up when she kicks. Well, she was sleeping so it took a long time, but she passed with flying colours. So the on call OB was happy about that, but was pushing for a c-sec, or some kind of something medical that would bring the baby out. She was kind and compassionate, but she is a trained surgeon, and that is her way of helping. But I was adamant. I just knew that nothing was wrong with the baby, or her environment. But with each warning and stern look, I was doubting myself. And my midwife was supportive, but cautious b/c of all the possible danger indicators. So then we agreed that since the fluid was very low, we should do an Oxytocin Challenge Test which means getting oxytocin so that I have three contractions within ten minutes and if the baby's heart rate doesn't fall then the fluid level is high enough that she would be okay during labour. So we did that and she passed! Of course!
Then the OB and the midwife and I all agreed that since my cervix wasn't ripe and I couldn't have the prostaglandin gel b/c of a previous c-sec that we would try a Foley catheter. (So far, this definitely isn't the simple homebirth I had pictured!) A foley catheter is like a long balloon that is manually (yikes!) placed within the cervix and then blown up with fluid to actually stretch the cevix open. The idea is, that if it is partly open then I will be more responsive to oxytocin...there is no point giving a woman oxytocin if her cervix isn't ripe. So we did that. VERY UNCOMFORTABLE! At 7 o'clock, Willie had gone to work and Lydia and Simone (Will's mom) came and picked me up from the hospital. The midwife and OB told me to come back in the morning and then they would start oxytocin b/c hopefully my cervix would be ripe.
I had dinner with Lydia and Simone who was staying the night b/c we knew we would need her on Thursday morning. I was so tired. From the stress and the heart ache and worry and not enough sleep! So I put Lydia to bed at 8 pm and I realized that the contractions really hadn't stopped since the challenge test. They were ten minutes apart. So I called Will and he came home at 930. Contractions five minutes apart. We called the midwife at 11, the contractions had been 3 minutes apart for an hour. She came to our house and said I was 4cm. Horray! So I pulled on the balloon thing and it popped out.
3 minutes apart, 3 minutes apart, 3 minutes apart. Susan smiled and gently said that just so we know, I am in active laboour, and she should recommend that we go to the hospital now. At 1am, Thursday, Mar 2, we headed for the hospital b/c everyone agreed that the baby needed to be monitored. (In retrospect, I'd have stayed home a few more hours, had a shower, maybe a cup of coffee and some power food...)
We got set up in the room and I was kneeling or on all fours for contractions. The monitor kept slipping off, and I was concentrating (stupidly) on the sound of the baby heart rate, and when the monitor let go as I moved during the contraction I worried b/c we would lose the sound of the baby’s heart. (Hindsight: I should have just said, okay against medical advice and hospital policy etc, PLEASE remove the bloody thing from my abdomen!) By 5am the contractions were 2 minutes apart and terrible. I was exhausted. Only 4 hours of sleep in 48! The pain started to make me panic so that I couldn't relax and my labour, of course, stalled. I was also attached to the bloody machines and couldn't get comfortable or have a shower and Will was so tired too! He was used to sleeping during the day b/c he works nights, and instead he had been at the hospital all day with me. I certainly was not prepared for being so fatigued. So I lost it. I sat down on the floor and said, I quit. I need a break. And omigod, my contractions slowed to five-six minutes. So weird! I laid on the bed and Will did too and the midwife started to get worried that my uterus was fatigued too. So, she broke my water (not low fluid volume, by the way!) and the contractions came again, strong and fierce and 2 minutes apart and we checked and I was only 6cm. Dammit! I cried and cried, mostly from the exhaustion, and then partly from all the stress and worry, and we ordered an epidural so I could rest a bit. So I was in the mind set that relief was coming, but - no joke- FIVE hours later the anesthesiologist showed up. That's right five more hours of hard screaming-Kate, helpless-Will, not very effective labour. Jaysus!
The doctor was useless. He missed the epidural spot five times. My legs were shooting with pain every time he tried. And he had to stop each time, pull the damn thing out while I had a gut-wrenching crown of thorns on my cervix type contraction. It was awful. I was a mess. Finally he got it in and I relaxed, but I could still feel each contraction, but now, since I was lying down all the pain was concentrated on my pelvic bone. At least I could calm down a bit. The pain was about 40% of what it had been previously. Susan, my midwife, checked and I was 8cm. (Five hours and only two cm made me feel like I was doing it all wrong - self doubt invades me.) She said that the baby seemed to be in a weird position, possibly posterior, but really hard to tell. Will had a nap for an hour and my midwife went for breakfast/lunch. I chatted with the nurse, who was monitoring the epidural, between contractions and told her I was very worried that this was the beginning of the end. Surgery was imminent. She was young, and bouncy, and positive. She said, that with my type of case, an epidural helps to relax the woman just enough to finish the job. I prayed she was right. I concentrated hard during the contractions, I yelped and grunted and groaned - it was similar to the contractions of 12 hours previoulsy, bearable, but I had the mindset of calm and comfort and moving forward.
One hour later, the epidural was turned off so I could push. Baby's head was very low down. What a waste of intervention! It was good though, because I regained my composure and my focus and I pushed really hard and really well. I screamed a couple of times because the pain on my pelvic bone was awful, and everybody said, "Where does it hurt!?" because they were being careful about watching for a uterine rupture due to my last c-sec. It took about an hour and 20 minutes, and Frances was born at 12:45pm. Ta da! I loved the pushing, loved the effort, loved the feeling that I was doing it! It hurt, a lot, but is was so satisfying.
The placenta was very small. The cord was short and skinny. The baby girl - Perfect. 6lbs, 2 oz, red and ruddy and wonderful.
Sidenote: the night before, I called my mom, who was due to arrive on Saturday and I told her that I was going to be induced the next day so she switched her flight to Thursday morning and arrived at the hospital at 1130. Talk about timing!
I felt a little disappointed that I could keep my cool the whole time, couldn't calm myself...but I forgive myself considering all the stress that had accumulated by that point. My pulse went really low after Frances was born, so we decided to stay the night in the hospital. I had two stitches (not in the perineum, just in the labia) which were the most uncomfortable part of healing. Came home Friday, and this past month has been a total blur! I know a lot of women don't feel as crummy about their c-sec as I do, but I am very blessed and very glad and very thankful to have had a vaginal delivery this time. I feel like it is my re-birth into motherhood. I have regained my confidence as a mother b/c I know that I am capable of birthing my children. For me, though maybe not for others, it was very important. I thank god and all those who prayed for me and us every night. There were so many little indicators that something might go wrong...
but for the grace of god go I. Truly.
Kate
This writing is a thank you to all the women on MDC who helped me through the trauma of my first birth experience. Your support and strength charges me up!
This story begins with the birth of our first daughter, Lydia. At 38 weeks, my husband and I picked up my mother from the airport on our way to a scheduled midwife appointment. My mother had a nagging urge to arrive ten days before she had planned, to help before the birth as well as after. We were nervous first timers, hoping for a homebirth, frightened and anxious about all the excitement surrounding the birth. Our midwife, Kellie, asked how I was feeling, and though I knew inside that something was happening, I replied, “I suppose I am only certain that I cannot prepare myself for what is coming. I can’t predict how much it will hurt, or how well I will handle it.” She smiled, and suggested we do a “stretch and sweep” to encourage cervix ripening. I agreed and we were both happy to find that I was in early latent labour, already 2cm dilated, and long and soft. Then she said, “Let me feel the head.” Then Kellie’s face changed. “Oh, Kate,” she sighed, “it’s not a head. I feel a foot.”
Gasp. Sob. Ceasarian Section. I have renamed it: belly-birth.
With this pregnancy, I was diagnosed wit Intra-Uterine Growth Restriction at 28 weeks. I had been monitored very closely, in consultation with a peri-natologist (two steps above an obstetrician) and it had been a struggle to maintain a No-intervention policy. I prayed and meditated that the baby would grow, the fluid levels would be maintained, the cord would be healthy…and also, I tried to really listen LISTEN to my body and my baby and my God for whether something was wrong, and that I would need to seek medical help. I prayed and meditated on clarity and trying to be honest with myself.
It all begins on Monday night and Tuesday night, when I only got 4 hours of sleep - bladder kept me up and Lydia, now 18 months old, was having a terrible outbreak of eczema. Poor thing. Wednesday morning I had another ultrasound at 8am and I was already having a hard day, tired, exhausted, and going to the hospital -Yukky! It was another check and see ultrasound related to the growth of the baby and the low fluid and high resistance in the umbilical cord. Lots of things were borderline and the consulting peri-natologist was starting to get a bit anxious. I was 38 weeks and 5 days. Fortunately, that obstetrician was not around (holidays, I think) and so I thought I'd just see the tech and all the info would go to the midwife and we'd talk about it on Monday. We had been taking a wait-and-see approach, and I wanted to continue to do that.
Well, the obstetrician that was in the ultrasound clinic, who was not really familiar with the case got really nervous and decided to send me upstairs to the case room. I was so freaked out b/c I am very uncomfortable in hospitals. Will was at home sleeping b/c he worked the night before and his mom was at our place taking care of Lydia. So I called the midwives and I totally broke down crying, I was so frightened. Since I was being admitted to the hospital and I was feeling very fragile, Susan came to meet me in the case room (where they check all the preggos to see who stays and who goes home) and Will met me there too. The idea was that the on call OB, upstairs in the case room would check my cervix to see if it was ripe b/c they were all concerned that the environment in utero would deteriorate as the placenta got older, so we might try an induction. At that point I was really frustrated, I kept thinking that if the peri-natologist were there then I wouldn’t have been sent upstairs. He was more familiar with my case, more confident in my trust in my body, and more understanding of my fear of hospitals and stand against intervention.
So I was very nervous, b/c I really did not want another c-sec. The first c-sec was very awful for me, I was very disempowered and the whole thing was a train wreck. I hated that Lydia was born that way, and that I didn't have a choice at all and so it was very traumatic. I was really having to stand my ground for weeks so that the peri wouldn't schedule another c-sec. Seriously, for me, Lydia's birth was terrible. I felt like a science project. Strapped down and paralyzed and my baby being torn from my body.
So on that Wednesday morning, Mar 1, we (Susan the midwife, Will, my dh, the on call OB, and I) agreed to a non-stress test which means monitoring the baby's heart rate and checking to see that it goes up when she kicks. Well, she was sleeping so it took a long time, but she passed with flying colours. So the on call OB was happy about that, but was pushing for a c-sec, or some kind of something medical that would bring the baby out. She was kind and compassionate, but she is a trained surgeon, and that is her way of helping. But I was adamant. I just knew that nothing was wrong with the baby, or her environment. But with each warning and stern look, I was doubting myself. And my midwife was supportive, but cautious b/c of all the possible danger indicators. So then we agreed that since the fluid was very low, we should do an Oxytocin Challenge Test which means getting oxytocin so that I have three contractions within ten minutes and if the baby's heart rate doesn't fall then the fluid level is high enough that she would be okay during labour. So we did that and she passed! Of course!
Then the OB and the midwife and I all agreed that since my cervix wasn't ripe and I couldn't have the prostaglandin gel b/c of a previous c-sec that we would try a Foley catheter. (So far, this definitely isn't the simple homebirth I had pictured!) A foley catheter is like a long balloon that is manually (yikes!) placed within the cervix and then blown up with fluid to actually stretch the cevix open. The idea is, that if it is partly open then I will be more responsive to oxytocin...there is no point giving a woman oxytocin if her cervix isn't ripe. So we did that. VERY UNCOMFORTABLE! At 7 o'clock, Willie had gone to work and Lydia and Simone (Will's mom) came and picked me up from the hospital. The midwife and OB told me to come back in the morning and then they would start oxytocin b/c hopefully my cervix would be ripe.
I had dinner with Lydia and Simone who was staying the night b/c we knew we would need her on Thursday morning. I was so tired. From the stress and the heart ache and worry and not enough sleep! So I put Lydia to bed at 8 pm and I realized that the contractions really hadn't stopped since the challenge test. They were ten minutes apart. So I called Will and he came home at 930. Contractions five minutes apart. We called the midwife at 11, the contractions had been 3 minutes apart for an hour. She came to our house and said I was 4cm. Horray! So I pulled on the balloon thing and it popped out.
3 minutes apart, 3 minutes apart, 3 minutes apart. Susan smiled and gently said that just so we know, I am in active laboour, and she should recommend that we go to the hospital now. At 1am, Thursday, Mar 2, we headed for the hospital b/c everyone agreed that the baby needed to be monitored. (In retrospect, I'd have stayed home a few more hours, had a shower, maybe a cup of coffee and some power food...)
We got set up in the room and I was kneeling or on all fours for contractions. The monitor kept slipping off, and I was concentrating (stupidly) on the sound of the baby heart rate, and when the monitor let go as I moved during the contraction I worried b/c we would lose the sound of the baby’s heart. (Hindsight: I should have just said, okay against medical advice and hospital policy etc, PLEASE remove the bloody thing from my abdomen!) By 5am the contractions were 2 minutes apart and terrible. I was exhausted. Only 4 hours of sleep in 48! The pain started to make me panic so that I couldn't relax and my labour, of course, stalled. I was also attached to the bloody machines and couldn't get comfortable or have a shower and Will was so tired too! He was used to sleeping during the day b/c he works nights, and instead he had been at the hospital all day with me. I certainly was not prepared for being so fatigued. So I lost it. I sat down on the floor and said, I quit. I need a break. And omigod, my contractions slowed to five-six minutes. So weird! I laid on the bed and Will did too and the midwife started to get worried that my uterus was fatigued too. So, she broke my water (not low fluid volume, by the way!) and the contractions came again, strong and fierce and 2 minutes apart and we checked and I was only 6cm. Dammit! I cried and cried, mostly from the exhaustion, and then partly from all the stress and worry, and we ordered an epidural so I could rest a bit. So I was in the mind set that relief was coming, but - no joke- FIVE hours later the anesthesiologist showed up. That's right five more hours of hard screaming-Kate, helpless-Will, not very effective labour. Jaysus!
The doctor was useless. He missed the epidural spot five times. My legs were shooting with pain every time he tried. And he had to stop each time, pull the damn thing out while I had a gut-wrenching crown of thorns on my cervix type contraction. It was awful. I was a mess. Finally he got it in and I relaxed, but I could still feel each contraction, but now, since I was lying down all the pain was concentrated on my pelvic bone. At least I could calm down a bit. The pain was about 40% of what it had been previously. Susan, my midwife, checked and I was 8cm. (Five hours and only two cm made me feel like I was doing it all wrong - self doubt invades me.) She said that the baby seemed to be in a weird position, possibly posterior, but really hard to tell. Will had a nap for an hour and my midwife went for breakfast/lunch. I chatted with the nurse, who was monitoring the epidural, between contractions and told her I was very worried that this was the beginning of the end. Surgery was imminent. She was young, and bouncy, and positive. She said, that with my type of case, an epidural helps to relax the woman just enough to finish the job. I prayed she was right. I concentrated hard during the contractions, I yelped and grunted and groaned - it was similar to the contractions of 12 hours previoulsy, bearable, but I had the mindset of calm and comfort and moving forward.
One hour later, the epidural was turned off so I could push. Baby's head was very low down. What a waste of intervention! It was good though, because I regained my composure and my focus and I pushed really hard and really well. I screamed a couple of times because the pain on my pelvic bone was awful, and everybody said, "Where does it hurt!?" because they were being careful about watching for a uterine rupture due to my last c-sec. It took about an hour and 20 minutes, and Frances was born at 12:45pm. Ta da! I loved the pushing, loved the effort, loved the feeling that I was doing it! It hurt, a lot, but is was so satisfying.
The placenta was very small. The cord was short and skinny. The baby girl - Perfect. 6lbs, 2 oz, red and ruddy and wonderful.
Sidenote: the night before, I called my mom, who was due to arrive on Saturday and I told her that I was going to be induced the next day so she switched her flight to Thursday morning and arrived at the hospital at 1130. Talk about timing!
I felt a little disappointed that I could keep my cool the whole time, couldn't calm myself...but I forgive myself considering all the stress that had accumulated by that point. My pulse went really low after Frances was born, so we decided to stay the night in the hospital. I had two stitches (not in the perineum, just in the labia) which were the most uncomfortable part of healing. Came home Friday, and this past month has been a total blur! I know a lot of women don't feel as crummy about their c-sec as I do, but I am very blessed and very glad and very thankful to have had a vaginal delivery this time. I feel like it is my re-birth into motherhood. I have regained my confidence as a mother b/c I know that I am capable of birthing my children. For me, though maybe not for others, it was very important. I thank god and all those who prayed for me and us every night. There were so many little indicators that something might go wrong...
but for the grace of god go I. Truly.
Kate
Congrats mama! you did an awesome job!
