I wrote this post a while ago, but didn't post it because it seems to be a little too personal. I had a mission companion, however, who promised herself she would tell me exactly how she was feeling all the time so that she didn't explode from keeping things locked up. I have found that sharing some things also spares me some emotional plaque build up. I am not as brave as she to share everything, but this post is quite real, so continue at your own risk, I guess.
2/25/11
Today I read a document that Katie Astin sent before my labor entitled Cesarean Fact Sheet. Truth be told, I did not read it before my delivery. I didn’t think I needed it. I saw it unopened today and read through it. As I read fact after fact, and reason after reason that cesarean sections did not need to be performed in so many cases, I felt a sadness come over me and felt the tears start to form in my eyes and escape despite my unwillingness to let them. I read a list of reasons that a cesarean section would be necessary and searched for my situation, but didn’t find one that fit. Truly, one of my looming fears is that my cesarean section wasn’t necessary. I felt it was at the time. I knew I wasn’t progressing and that the risk of infection for me and my baby was increasing with every passing minute due to my broken water, but here I am eight weeks later to the day, and I am still not entirely sure I could not have had my baby vaginally. My midwives told me all through my pregnancy that my pelvis was large enough and that there was plenty of room for a baby to fit through. Then right after surgery, the surgeon says that my pelvis is very small and that I will probably never be able to have a VBAC. According to the fact sheet I received whose information was taken from ICAN (International Cesarean Awareness Network) :
“True absolute cephalopelvic disproportion or CPD (baby too large for pelvis) is extremely rare and only associated with a pelvic deformity (or an incorrectly healed pelvic break). Fetal positioning during labour and maternal positioning during second stage, most notably when women are in a semi-sitting position, cause most CPD diagnosed in current obstetrics.”
I was never diagnosed with CPD officially, but I have never had a pelvic break nor do I have pelvic deformities (yes I have had my pelvis x-rayed, and no, nothing ever came back about a deformity). What was really frustrating, though I have tried not to dwell on it, was going to my six week check up after my delivery and having my midwife tell me that I did have a really small pelvis. Really? I don’t think it shrunk.
As I read Katie’s document, I went to the ICAN website. I don’t know what I was looking for, maybe someone I could talk to to see if my situation really merited a cesarean section. I have been wanting that since I underwent surgery- just someone to validate that I made the right decision and was not just at the mercy of the hospital staff with their liabilities and “protocols”. Then I came across a page about the increased prevalence of postpartum depression in women who undergo c-sections and I read this line : “You have the right to mourn your birth and your trauma while celebrating your child. These are two different events in your life, even if they are happening simultaneously.”
I don’t know why it took that line to give me the permission I needed to mourn my birth, but I suddenly felt free to do so. I let the tears come. I cried and mourned the birth I had envisioned for months of pregnancy. I mourned not being able to use the training and the preparation I had painstakingly acquired just for this event. I mourned not being able to recognize the transition phase and not being able to push at my own pace, taking three breaths and holding the last one while bearing down. I mourned not being able to use the squatting bar. I mourned not being able to hold my child on my chest immediately afterward and put her to my breast to nurse. I mourned the fact that neither I nor my husband held our child until she was taken into a nursery, had all her tests done, was packaged and delivered to the recovery room where I had been deposited alone to shiver and pass in and out of consciousness after I had been stitched up. I mourned the fact that I was so drugged that I could not stay awake long enough to truly revel in the joy of my newly found motherhood; neither could my baby as she was drugged by the same drugs I had been given. I mourned the fact that within my first minutes holding her, I vomited from getting additional pain meds on a completely empty stomach knowing that going hungry is a formality taken by hospital staff and completely unnecessary during normal labor. I mourned that lost bonding time. I mourned not being able to stand my ground when my surgeon insisted that waiting to clamp the cord made no difference. I mourned not being able to sit up and get out of bed on my own for weeks after delivery. I mourned not being able to walk around for very long before being totally wiped out for several weeks afterwards. I mourned that normal, beautiful, empowering vaginal delivery and that triumphant feeling that I had just accomplished a miracle; that I had birthed my baby.
I have had these 8 weeks to celebrate my child and I have and do celebrate her. I love her so very much and have felt more joy with her in my arms and my husband at my side than I think I have ever felt before. But I had not mourned my birth until now. I needed to and I didn’t realize how necessary it was. I am not done mourning it. I need time to continue to do so; time to heal emotionally from it. I hope healing will happen as I continue celebrating my little Lil Pill. Her perfect little smiles do seem to have healing powers.
Today I read a document that Katie Astin sent before my labor entitled Cesarean Fact Sheet. Truth be told, I did not read it before my delivery. I didn’t think I needed it. I saw it unopened today and read through it. As I read fact after fact, and reason after reason that cesarean sections did not need to be performed in so many cases, I felt a sadness come over me and felt the tears start to form in my eyes and escape despite my unwillingness to let them. I read a list of reasons that a cesarean section would be necessary and searched for my situation, but didn’t find one that fit. Truly, one of my looming fears is that my cesarean section wasn’t necessary. I felt it was at the time. I knew I wasn’t progressing and that the risk of infection for me and my baby was increasing with every passing minute due to my broken water, but here I am eight weeks later to the day, and I am still not entirely sure I could not have had my baby vaginally. My midwives told me all through my pregnancy that my pelvis was large enough and that there was plenty of room for a baby to fit through. Then right after surgery, the surgeon says that my pelvis is very small and that I will probably never be able to have a VBAC. According to the fact sheet I received whose information was taken from ICAN (International Cesarean Awareness Network) :
“True absolute cephalopelvic disproportion or CPD (baby too large for pelvis) is extremely rare and only associated with a pelvic deformity (or an incorrectly healed pelvic break). Fetal positioning during labour and maternal positioning during second stage, most notably when women are in a semi-sitting position, cause most CPD diagnosed in current obstetrics.”
I was never diagnosed with CPD officially, but I have never had a pelvic break nor do I have pelvic deformities (yes I have had my pelvis x-rayed, and no, nothing ever came back about a deformity). What was really frustrating, though I have tried not to dwell on it, was going to my six week check up after my delivery and having my midwife tell me that I did have a really small pelvis. Really? I don’t think it shrunk.
As I read Katie’s document, I went to the ICAN website. I don’t know what I was looking for, maybe someone I could talk to to see if my situation really merited a cesarean section. I have been wanting that since I underwent surgery- just someone to validate that I made the right decision and was not just at the mercy of the hospital staff with their liabilities and “protocols”. Then I came across a page about the increased prevalence of postpartum depression in women who undergo c-sections and I read this line : “You have the right to mourn your birth and your trauma while celebrating your child. These are two different events in your life, even if they are happening simultaneously.”
I don’t know why it took that line to give me the permission I needed to mourn my birth, but I suddenly felt free to do so. I let the tears come. I cried and mourned the birth I had envisioned for months of pregnancy. I mourned not being able to use the training and the preparation I had painstakingly acquired just for this event. I mourned not being able to recognize the transition phase and not being able to push at my own pace, taking three breaths and holding the last one while bearing down. I mourned not being able to use the squatting bar. I mourned not being able to hold my child on my chest immediately afterward and put her to my breast to nurse. I mourned the fact that neither I nor my husband held our child until she was taken into a nursery, had all her tests done, was packaged and delivered to the recovery room where I had been deposited alone to shiver and pass in and out of consciousness after I had been stitched up. I mourned the fact that I was so drugged that I could not stay awake long enough to truly revel in the joy of my newly found motherhood; neither could my baby as she was drugged by the same drugs I had been given. I mourned the fact that within my first minutes holding her, I vomited from getting additional pain meds on a completely empty stomach knowing that going hungry is a formality taken by hospital staff and completely unnecessary during normal labor. I mourned that lost bonding time. I mourned not being able to stand my ground when my surgeon insisted that waiting to clamp the cord made no difference. I mourned not being able to sit up and get out of bed on my own for weeks after delivery. I mourned not being able to walk around for very long before being totally wiped out for several weeks afterwards. I mourned that normal, beautiful, empowering vaginal delivery and that triumphant feeling that I had just accomplished a miracle; that I had birthed my baby.
I have had these 8 weeks to celebrate my child and I have and do celebrate her. I love her so very much and have felt more joy with her in my arms and my husband at my side than I think I have ever felt before. But I had not mourned my birth until now. I needed to and I didn’t realize how necessary it was. I am not done mourning it. I need time to continue to do so; time to heal emotionally from it. I hope healing will happen as I continue celebrating my little Lil Pill. Her perfect little smiles do seem to have healing powers.
beautiful. i would have mourned too if it had happened to me.
ReplyDeletei totally think you can vbac though... look at afton. she did and she is way more smaller pelvisly than you!! i've never thought of you as a small pelvis anyway... but that's kinda awkward so we'll just leave it at that.
it's so interesting the different things we deal with. some women would think you're crazy and would plan c-sections, but i am on your side. you need to mourn. but remember, you still created her in all of her awesome beauty and you can do it again and again. it is possible that you may never have a vaginal birth on this earth, but heavenly father knows your heart and will make up for your pain. loves.
and sorry for the lame punctuation
I am glad you posted this Michelle. You had a really hard labor and I am glad that you took some time to mourn about the c-section. I know how you feel, having two c-sections and knowing that I'll never see the natural and miraculous birthing process. It's a bummer but I think if this is my trial in life I'll take it because at least I know I can still make and have beautiful babies. I am grateful for technology and medicine so that my babies can be healthy and strong.
ReplyDeleteI am sorry that you had to have a c-section but I really do think you needed it because you didn't dilate at all during your 20 plus hours of labor. The chances of you dilating anymore where pretty slim and that's why they did a c-section before other complications could occur. Not to put a damper on trying to go for a VBAC (I would by all means), my doc told me if you didn't dilate with your first baby you only have a 50% chance this time. I was given a 75% chance and it still didn't happen. I believe in miracles and think that a 50% chance is still worth trying.
I moved away for 7 weeks to try for a VBAC and didn't succeed. I was bummed but at least I could tell myself I tried! It sucked and it was hard but it is what it is.
With my first c-section I felt inadequate and cried all the way to the operating room.
I promise that even if you have to have an elective c-section with your second one it will be nothing like what you went through. You will recover a lot quicker!
Please call me if you want to talk about this anymore and maybe I can answer your other questions if you want too. I would love it and it would probably help me mourn my c-section bummers too! Love ya!
Michelle,
ReplyDeleteI wish I had gotten to know you better when we both worked at Nu Skin. I felt intimidated by you because you had such amazing Spanish and then you were in a different training group...but I want to tell you that I think you are an amazing person and admire you tremendously! I feel like you think about a lot of things the same way I do...but you express yourself so much better. :) Thanks so much for sharing your thoughts about Lily's birth. I think our losses are sometimes made greater by our minimizing them...we honor them by grieving. I love what you wrote about being able to celebrate your daughter while also mourning...how they are two different events. That touched me because life is so often that way...simultaneously glorious and heartbreaking. I hope you don't let anyone discourage you from VBACing or whatever you decide to do...It makes me sad that there is so much discouragement! Why?? It doesn't seem like anyone involved with you would lose anything by giving you confidence. You are right, though, your pelvis did not shrink, and it sounds like the real issue was your water having been broken for awhile, and they got nervous...otherwise being a little slow to dialate wouldn't have mattered in the slightest, they could have just sent you home even. I hope you can continue to find peace about your experiences as you explore them. Lily is lucky to have such a thoughtful and insightful mother. :)
Shmell, I know how you feel. It is rough. I cried about it multiple times after Jake. As you know, I studied and prepared for the Bradley method, too. Don't rule it out. It is a little bit of a fluke that your water broke (leaked). It is pretty rare, especially for your first. Don't freak about your pelvis. It's probably still normal and just fine for giving birth. Why didn't your body dilate? Why didn't mine get past an 8 (either time)? Who knows. They may have been worried because the longer you are in labor, the more stress it puts on your baby, so heart rate can drop, damage can occur.
ReplyDeleteTry to find midwives/drs. that are supportive of trying a natural vbac (no drugs, no inducing). Ask about what they would do if your water started leaking... one dr. told me you could go three weeks with it leaking, but he wouldn't recommend it. Ask about inducing. With Alisa, they really pushed me to be induced but I held my ground, and started labor 8 days late. Try the Bradley method still. Just remember Jacqui had 3 vbacs, and that Olivia took over 30 hours to come, but she did come. And just so you know, the dr. told me to come in after an hour of normal contractions. I knew my body well, so I labored 24 hours (HARD labor) at home, then went in when we thought I was dilated to a 7 or so. It was a 5, but it was something! I have always wondered if my first c-section was necessary. When I tried for a vbac, and didn't make it, I knew that it was my body. Both times stuck at an 8 for an inordinate amount of time... never progressing past there, and baby stressed and not breathing.
I still cried when I realized that I couldn't have a vaginal birth...but I was much more prepared the second time and knew that I had done everything in my power to get that baby to come vaginally. That was when I decided to focus on being grateful I lived in this time where I didn't have to labor for days on end only to have my baby so stressed that she died, or that I died. I know it seems extreme, but that thought actually helped a lot.
So... I am glad you are mourning because I think it is very necessary. I am also glad you and babe are healthy and alive! I hope you can find a dr. or midwife that will try for a vbac. Who knows? You may be absolutely fine and "normal" this next time.
Love you. Wish I was coming to women's conference. I miss you! I'm terrible at calling anyone, but we really will have to chat sometime. xoxo
Hey Shell. i just barely read this, although you posted it over two months ago. I had mixed feelings reading it. I totally know how you feel about mourning your birth. I was exactly the same way. I thought I had it all figured out and that all would go as I planned...and then it didn't. And in a big way, I felt the sting of failure. I felt that somehow I, personally, was inadequate, that my body couldn't do what so many women do the world over every single day. So I tried for the VBAC with #2. It was so hard. Terrifically hard. In all honestly, had I known how difficult it was going to be, I don't know that I would have done it. Of course this is all in retrospect. But I've often wondered if laboring for 33 hours, pushing for nearly three hours and having a vacuum extractor popping off of my baby's head multiple times was really the best way to go about giving birth...or if I was just being stubborn because I wanted it a certain way. I still wonder if maybe the birthing experience molded #2's personality a bit. It certainly wasn't a very pleasant way to enter this world and she was in pain for several weeks because of it. Should I have gone through the surgery to spare her the pain of the birth? I do know one thing with certainty--I would definitely have had a c-section with #2 if I hadn't personally known the doctor and begged him to let me continue to labor even though I'd been at a 7 for FIVE hours. We talked very seriously about the possibility because my body wasn't doing enough on it's own.
ReplyDeleteI wouldn't rule out what the doctor said about having a small pelvis. My pelvis hurt for years after my first vaginal birth--almost like it had been cracked. The pelvic bone itself may not be small, but the opening very well may be. I had been told that mine is triangular shaped, which makes it that much harder to get a baby through. I think that all of the girls in the family probably have this strangely shaped pelvis. Our great-great-grandma couldn't birth her baby, but instead of a c-section in a modern hospital, she went through pure hell in order to save her life. I can't imagine how she was every psychologically normal, knowing her baby had to die in order for her to live. When I think of her, I am extremely grateful that we were given the gift of these babies and the gift of competent doctors.
I am not trying to minimize your pain--it is real, and it is so disappointing to not have exactly what you want. You ARE still a warrior woman, though, and that is to be celebrated! Your body took minuscule cells and created ten fingers and ten toes...and two amazingly chubby, beautiful cheeks. Two blue eyes that have such depth, tiny ears that respond to your voice and a smile that will melt your soul into a puddle at your feet. Lily is amazing and you formed every part of her--what a gift God has given us as women! Having given birth four times now, my mourning comes for those who are unable to do so.