VBAMC Stories:
Vaginal Birth After 2 or More Cesareans
by KMom
Copyright © 2000-2009 KMom@Vireday.Com. All rights reserved.
This FAQ last updated: June 2009
DISCLAIMER: The information on this website is not intended and should not be construed as medical advice. Consult your healthcare provider.
CONTENTS
Is trying for a Vaginal Birth After Cesarean (VBAC) a reasonable option after you've had 2 (or more) c-sections? Most authors conclude that it is, but a few authors do not, and many OBs are reluctant to consider it, especially recently due to a VBAC backlash movement.
Because many doctors have been reluctant to consider it, most medical literature and collections of VBAC stories have concentrated on VBAC after 1 cesarean. There is an urgent need for information, analysis of medical literature, and stories of VBAC after multiple cesareans.
This web section details personal stories of VBAC after Multiple Cesareans (VBAMC or VBA2+C). It mostly contains personal VBAMC stories others have decided to share here, but it also has resources for finding these stories in books, videos, and online. There is another web section on this site that analyzes the medical literature on the subject, looks at the chances of success, evaluates the risk of rupture, and also examines emotional issues that may be involved, hints for healing, etc. (the VBA2C FAQ and Newest VBAMC Research). The two web sections are meant to be complementary and should be considered together.
Readers are urged to do their own research in order to reasonably evaluate the various factors in VBAC vs. elective repeat c-section decisions. There are many factors to consider in deciding. Excellent VBAC information can be found online; readers are directed to the resources at www.childbirth.org/section/, www.gentlebirth.org, www.ican-online.org, and the many medical journal abstracts available online at www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/PubMed/. Be sure you understand what you are reading and the potential biases of the writers!
Other valuable resources include the following books. These books are a little older and are not updated with the latest VBAC information, but still contain a lot of helpful information and inspiring stories.
Further resources can be found in the References section of the other VBAMC FAQs, as well as in the FAQ on Great VBAC Resources on this site.
The purpose of these FAQs is not to convince you that VBAMC is the right option for you, or that VBAMC is not the right option for you. It is simply to gather together in one place more information about the difficult-to-find subject of VBAMC, to explore its various issues, both medical and personal, and to share VBAMC personal stories and where to find them.
However, it's important to remember that this is simply a sharing of information by and for health consumers. Kmom is not a medical professional and does not offer medical advice, nor should any be inferred from this website. Readers should always be very cautious about any health information they get online (or indeed, anywhere else!). Remember, YOU are the one ultimately responsible for your own healthcare decisions. Be thorough in your researching and explore all your options before making decisions. Just because this was the right decision for these mothers does not necessarily mean it would be the right decision for you.
The focus in this web section is primarily on VBAC after 2 c-sections because few women have more than 2 or 3 kids these days, and because few women with more than 2 c-sections are given the opportunity to even try a VBAC. However, that does not mean that VBAC after 3 or more c/s is inappropriate, impossible, or has never happened. In fact, a number of women have had VBACs after multiple cesareans.
Unfortunately, most of the stories in this FAQ so far deal with VBA2C but we have some higher order VBAC stories as well. More VBA3+C stories do exist, but they are not always easy to find because most women are forced into automatic repeat cesareans after 2 or 3 cesareans. If you want to find more VBA3+C stories, most of them are found in books like Silent Knife.
You may note that many VBAMC stories below take place outside of the hospital. Some medical professionals may find this alarming, since they are usually taught that birth outside the hospital is dangerous and tantamount to child abuse, and particularly so in the "high risk" scenario of VBAC.
However, the prevalence of homebirth in these stories simply reflects the fact that many VBAC women have found that they have had to leave the mainstream medical model in order to have a natural, normal birth, especially now with the anti-VBAC climate sweeping the world.
Because many hospitals have banned VBACs altogether, for many women the choice is between being forced into surgery against their will or choosing to birth outside the mainstream medical model. For other women, VBAC in the hospital is still possible but comes with so much restriction and hassles that VBAC becomes nearly impossible. This is why so many women are choosing to birth outside of the hospital, particularly in the VBAMC context.
Please note that Kmom does not promote or condemn homebirth for VBAC moms; she simply reports on the experiences of VBAMC moms. Please also note that it is possible to have a VBAMC in the hospital, and there are a number of stories of hospital births in this FAQ. However, more and more hospitals do not "allow" VBAMC anymore, and so more VBAMC women are choosing to birth outside the hospital, rather than be forced into surgery they do not want. This FAQ simply reflects that trend. No endorsement or condemnation of these practices should be inferred.
Finally, Kmom would particularly like to note that she strongly dislikes the terms, "Trial of Labor," the British alternative of "Trial of Scar," or "Attempted VBAC." It implies being on trial, a pass-fail 'test', a judgment, a tentative attempt. Kmom feels that a labor after previous cesarean should be viewed and treated virtually like any other labor.
Kmom particularly dislikes the term "failed trial of labor." This is NOT a failure. However, this is the terminology used by the medical studies reviewed in this FAQ, and often even in VBAC books. Alternative terminology (Cesarean Birth After Cesarean or CBAC) is not standard in the medical community, so Kmom has reluctantly utilized these other terms in this FAQ. Readers should be aware that its usage herein does not constitute approval! Words do matter, and obstetrics is full of misogynistic and condescending terms as it is. We can use these terms for ease of use and because it is standard, but we should also be aware of the weaknesses and subtle underlying implications of it.
Reading a Frequently Asked Questions list (FAQ) about childbirth issues is often like negotiating a minefield full of unfamiliar terms and abbreviations. Because it was not practical to write out each term each time, the following is a brief guide to the terms and abbreviations you might see in these particular FAQs.
vertical scar/"classical scar" - up-down scar from near navel to pubic bone; all c/s used to be done this way but vast majority today are done with low transverse incisions, which is safer. A classical scar is more likely to rupture than a low transverse. A third type is a "low vertical" scar, which is up and down but only in the lower uterine segment. This is also less likely to rupture.
There are several resources that can help you if you are considering a VBA2+C. The best of these are listed in Kmom's FAQ called "Great VBAC Resources" on this site. Rather than repeat that information here, Kmom has included a link to that FAQ instead.
However, there are two resources that should be highlighted. The first is the International Cesarean Awareness Network, or ICAN. Its URL is www.ican-online.org. It contains many answers and helpful articles for those seeking support after a cesarean or who are considering a VBAC. It also has an online email support group that many women find extremely helpful. Information for joining can be found at the main ICAN website.
There is also an ICAN-offshoot group specifically for VBA2C moms. Here is the information for joining:
Are you a vaginal birth after 2 cesareans hopeful? Have you had a vaginal birth after 2 or more c-sections? Please join the VBA2C Yahoo Group and share experiences, hopes, questions and stresses. We can get through this together! Click the link to join: http://health.groups.yahoo.com/subscribe/vba2c
Many women, including Kmom, HAVE had vaginal births after 2 cesareans, and some after 3, 4, 5 or even more cesareans! (We now have a VBA7C story on the website!!) Kmom highly recommends reading as many VBAC stories as you can, both 'successful' and 'not', for inspiration and understanding (whatever you decide about pursuing a VBAC). You can find many of these stories in books, online, and from women in specialized groups such as ICAN.
Kmom believes it is helpful to read both stories of VBACs that ended in repeat c/s as well as those that ended in vaginal birth. Both can be illuminating. However, a list of all types of VBAC Trials of Labor would be prohibitive. Readers can find stories of VBACs that ended in repeat c/s as well as those ending in vaginal birth in books such as VBAC Experience and Artemis Speaks. The main purpose of this section is to list VBA2C stories that did end in vaginal birth.
Here is a summary of the VBA2C stories Kmom found.
You can find good VBA2C stories ('successful' and 'not') in Silent Knife by Nancy Wainer Cohen and Lois Estner, The VBAC Companion by Diana Korte, The Vaginal Birth After Cesarean Experience by Lynn Baptisti Richards, and Artemis Speaks: VBAC Stories & Natural Childbirth Information, written and compiled by Nan Koehler.
Another particularly helpful book might be Natural Childbirth After Cesarean by Karis Crawford and Johanne Walters, two women who experienced Vaginal Birth After 2 Cesareans themselves, (two each, in fact!), including some under very unusual and complicated circumstances. Johanne Walters had her first c/s after she broke her back in a car accident; her baby turned breech from months of braces and corsets and bed rest. Her second c/s was a mandatory repeat c/s; at that time VBAC was truly a rarity. For her third child, she opted out of being forced into another c/s and found a caregiver somewhat supportive of VBAC an hour away. She had her first VBAC after a long difficult labor with a posterior baby and forceps delivery; although she was thrilled to have a VBAC the birth had a lot of intervention and was not easy. She had her second VBAC with her fourth child in a new state; although this hospital also interfered with her labor and birth she managed to have the baby without drugs or forceps and it was much more satisfying.
The other author's story is even more complicated and amazing; Karis Crawford had two VBA2Cs, despite a list of complications and risk factors that even today would have doctors running for the operating room. Her first c/s was for a breech baby, but the baby was stillborn. Her second c/s was a truly necessary one at 35 weeks for an abrupted placenta and baby in a transverse lie with a cord prolapse; fortunately her baby lived. However, due to the circumstances, her doctor had to use both a horizontal and vertical incision (a "T" incision), which many doctors would rule out for a VBAC. Also, the surgery revealed the source of all the problems; she had a bicornate uterus (the top third had a kind of partition, which made her placentas tend to bleed a lot due to difficulty attaching well, made the baby tend to assume breech or transverse positions because of space problems, and put the baby at risk for stillbirth). This would probably tend to make all future pregnancies complex.
Incredibly, her OB was the one who suggested a VBAC! However, in the interim, the couple struggled with the husband's infertility, and even when Karis did conceive eventually, the pregnancy was troubled by a great deal of bleeding and a breech presentation associated with the bicornate uterus. However, she used visualization, prayer, gentle pressure, and a flashlight to get the baby into a head-down position. Her waters broke 10 days before her due date; after 8 hours without labor, they called in an acupressure specialist, and labor started within a few hours. She went on to labor naturally and without meds, and had her baby vaginally 12 hours after the acupressure treatment.
Karis' fourth child (second VBA2C) was born a few years later, despite further struggles with infertility. Once again the baby was breech, but she turned him again with gentle pressure, visualization, music, and a flashlight. However, she went into labor at 33 weeks, and despite trying to stop it for several days, the decision was eventually made to let labor progress. She had her baby after an 8-hour med-free and mostly mild labor; the baby needed resuscitation and extra care but did well (the labor probably helped his lungs prepare; he might not have done as well with an elective c/s, although it's impossible to know for sure).
So this book contains the stories of 2 women who had VBA2C against all odds, and contains their thoughts about preparing for VBAC, both physically and emotionally. It is an excellent book. The authors are supportive both of women who have successful VBACs and those who end up with repeat cesareans after a trial of labor. They state that "We know the grief associated with repeat cesarean, whether the surgery was medically necessary or not. If you want more children, VBAC may still be a viable option for your next birth [as it was for them]...[But] for those of you who have completed your family...laboring for a VBAC, even if it ended in cesarean, was a noble work, by which you probably have come to a better definition of yourself as a person...You don't ever forfeit your dignity as a woman because of the way you have given birth."
Here is a list of specific VBA2C stories to be found in various childbirth/VBAC preparation books. For ease of reference, the page number and a brief summary of the story is listed, but be aware that different editions of a book may change this information. Enjoy!
Silent Knife - Nancy and Lois report working with 24 women (as of 1983, when the book was published) with more than one previous c/s; 21/24 had VBACs (an 88% VBAC rate). One woman had a home VBAC after four previous c/s, and two other women had hospital VBACs after four previous c/s. They also report of a woman who had her sixth baby by VBAC after 5 previous cesareans. In their chapter called "Letter from VBAC Mothers", there are numerous stories of VBACs after multiple previous cesareans.
Artemis Speaks - 4 VBA2+C stories
Natural Childbirth After Cesarean - Authors' stories, plus 3 other VBA2+C stories
Vaginal Birth After Cesarean Experience - 6 VBA2+C stories
There are any number of VBAC birth stories that can be found online. www.childbirth.org/articles/stories/categories/vbacstories.html contains many VBAC stories of various types. In particular, www.birthlove.com contains many stories of VBAC after multiple cesareans, including quite a few of VBAC after 3, 4 and more cesareans. Unfortunately, the Birth Love site is not free; there are free sections on the site, but full access to the site requires membership. However, membership is not terribly expensive and is well worth the investment, especially for VBAC moms.
Of the online VBAC stories out there, some are specifically about VBA2+C; the ones Kmom has found are listed below. There are probably many more to be found; if you see one not on this list, please email Kmom with the information and URL. We need as many stories as possible to inspire us on our journeys!
The video, "Gentle Birth Choices" (produced by Barbara Harper), has the videotaped story of a woman having a VBAC after 2 prior cesareans, both for "CPD." She gives birth at home. This video can be purchased from www.waterbirth.org.
There are now a number of VBAC birth videos available on YouTube and on OneTrue Media. Here are a few:
Kmom also requested VBA2C success stories from her ICAN online group (International Cesarean Awareness Network) and others. The following are a few of the stories that were shared. More stories will be added over time.
If you want to add your story, please follow the format given below, add your birth story (no attachments please!), give permission to use the story, and email it to kmom at plus-size-pregnancy dog org.
Unless specifically requested, all identifying information has been removed or changed to protect the privacy of the participants. In some cases, Kmom has edited the stories for clarity, brevity, grammar/spelling, and format, but most stories are told in the exact words of the mothers.
All stories are copyrighted; none may be used elsewhere without specific written permission from both Kmom and the mother involved.
New stories are added about once a year, and currently Kmom is behind on getting these caught up. Rest assured these are in process and will be added as time (and children) allow. Keep checking back frequently to look for new stories.
Kathy's Story (c/s for distress/cpd/ftp, ERCS, VBA2C)
Kmom's Notes:
Birth Story
My First Birth (1982): I went 11 days past due. At my checkup that morning I was still tightly closed and thick. I suspect the doctor tried to mess with my cervix because I did have some spotting after the exam. I started into labor that night with contractions immediately 5 minutes apart and painful. I think we went to the hospital within an hour of the first contractions.
I was the typical first-time mother---got to the hospital, wasn't dilated AT ALL but they decided to keep me for observation, because we lived 50 minutes from the hospital and "he wouldn't know when to tell me to come back, because the contractions were already 3-5 minutes apart." I decided the contractions hurt too much after walking for about 1/2 hour. I got into bed and tried doing the lamaze breathing. I laid there, on the monitor, breathing for the next 5 hours. I did dilate some, so they admitted me.
After 10 hours I had gotten to 5 cm. I couldn't imagine doing it for another 10 hours (no one told me that you can go from 5-10 much faster) so I got an epidural. Soon after that, they ruptured my membranes. Within minutes, the baby went into distress---low fetal heart-tones---60s? The room filled with people throwing me this way and that to try and stabilize the baby. They were yelling for the doctors---who was in surgery. (I think they were anticipating a crash c/s.) Finally the Fetal Heart Tones (FHTs) stabilized and he came running in and did a blood check on the baby to see if the oxygen level was still okay. It was.
I continued to labor. Had another short blip in FHTs which resolved quickly. After 18 hours I was 7 cm (according to my records---I was never told that I had gotten past 6 cm). It was 6 p.m. on a Friday night (wonder if the doctor had plans?). He sat on my bed and told me that this just wasn't working. I had been scared to death by the fetal distress (though the baby was fine now) but he recommended a c/s. I said okay.
It turns out that the baby's cord was 2x around the neck AND tied in a true knot (most likely the reason for the distress---they broke my membranes, he dropped, the knot tightened). I believe that if left to labor without interventions we would have done fine, but I don't feel anger over the decision. I was involved, and with what I knew at the time, the decision made sense. Recovery was normal but painful. Had a small baby boy---6 lbs. 11.5 oz.
My Second Birth (1985): I had heard that it may be possible to have a vaginal birth after cesarean, but didn't know anyone who had. I talked with the doctors about it, and they agreed to let me try. I was shocked when they told me that my c/s diagnosis was CPD and FTP. I insisted that it was because of the cord. They said no. At 40 weeks, the baby was riding high, cervix thick and closed. The doctor discussed VBAC with me. Said he didn't see any positive signs of labor going differently. Said that a scheduled c/s was easier than labor followed by a c/s and that some women think it is easier than a difficult labor. Made some sense. I felt pressure by my DH and mother to know when the baby was coming. Easter was also coming and I was worried about leaving my firstborn unexpectedly in the night, and being away from home on Easter. In addition, the anniversary of my miscarriage was later that same week. I didn't want to labor on the same day. All dumb reasons which made sense at the time. I agreed with a heavy heart to schedule my c/s---as far past my due date (4 days past) as I could and still be home from a c/s by Easter. April Fool's Day was the day chosen (a message there?).
I cried all weekend. I cried the whole drive to the hospital. I cried for hours as they prepped me and I awaited the surgery. I wasn't even sure why I was crying. I just know that it didn't seem like that right way to have a baby. I was very sick during the surgery---my blood pressure dropped to 70/50 and I was extremely nauseated. I kept saying, "I'm going to pass out---I'm going to throw up" and couldn't enjoy the birth at all. I was thrilled to learn that I had a baby girl. She was 6 lbs. 12 oz. I fell in love immediately and tried to put the birth behind me. But recovery was MORE painful and slower than the c/s after labor. I felt cheated and somewhat betrayed.
My Third Birth (1987): Baby number three was a surprise--a happy one for me, I wanted a third child. But I was so depressed about the thought of another SCHEDULED C/S. That was my biggest issue. I didn't want it to be scheduled. By luck, I brought it up with the new young female OB. Couldn't I wait until labor started to have the c/s? And couldn't I be checked to see if things were different this time? She said she couldn't see any reason why I couldn't have a trial of labor. I was so overjoyed that I started to cry.
After that, I realized that it was up TO ME to make it work. I couldn't count on anyone else. I found SILENT KNIFE at the library and my life changed after that. It lived on my nightstand for the next four months. I found a VBAC class which helped my husband more than me. I found a CBE [childbirth educator] who knew my doctors and knew my hospital and could give me pointers on working with the system. Whenever I was discouraged or worried or had a bad OB appointment, I got on the phone with one of them. I'd get "recharged". I was so thrilled to be "allowed" to go into labor that I was really looking forward to it. I wanted to do things differently this time. I was determined to stay home longer, to walk, etc.
I had to agree to schedule the c/s for a week past my due date. I pushed it to ten days past. I was ready to try castor oil if I didn't start by the 9th day. My c/s was scheduled for Tuesday after Labor Day. On Saturday, I enlisted my DH's help (same way we started the baby). By afternoon, intermittent contractions started. Yea! They continued through the night and all day Sunday. Sometimes they would get to be 5 minutes apart for a couple hours and I would get my DH up and dressed for the hospital, then they would slow down. I did this about 3 different times. I walked and walked. Soaked in the bath, ate light stuff, drank tons of water. Took naps, read inspiring things.
On Labor Day, it was the same thing. We agreed that it was time to have the doctor check us out. But I was emphatic that if I wasn't at least 4 cm, I would be going home. I knew as soon as I got there (and the "wrong" doctor was on duty) that it wasn't "time". He checked me and I was just a fingertip dilated---the same as I had been for 3 weeks! I was a bit discouraged, but determined to get out of there. I knew it would be a disaster to stay. I told the doctor that I was going to leave since I obviously wasn't in active labor. I agreed to stay and be monitored for an hour. I was fine, the baby was fine, and I was outta there (had to sign a form to leave).
I was so disgusted that I made my DH take me out for some real food. We went to Ponderosa and I think I ate some of everything on the salad bar. Then I went home, took a long bath and a nap (all the while still having intermittent contractions). By evening, they started to feel a bit different---stronger, more regular. I had to stop and lean on something and breathe slowly through each contraction. By 9 p.m. I knew it was different and by midnight I was ready to go back. One way or another, it was time to have this baby.
I was upset to see the same doctor there---the one who didn't agree with my plans to have a VBAC after 2 c/s. At 1 a.m. I was checked---4 cm dilated, baby as high up as they can measure (-4 station). Hey, 4 cm is pretty good! The doctor left and my nurse said that I could "call the shots". I just laid there after the exam and my DH asked me if I wanted to walk (Walk? How can I? Oh yeah, I HAVE TO walk). So I got up, and we walked and walked and rocked and walked. I would stop with each contraction and hang on the railing having my DH slow breathe with me.
Three hours later, I am still walking and my legs are trembling, and I'm sweating and cold. I said, "I can't do this anymore. I might have to get an epidural---I can't get an epidural---but I can't do this anymore." My angel nurse said, "Well, let me check you and then you can decide." She says, "You're 10 cm! You can push!"
Oh my God, I AM doing this!! I had her get out the squatting bar and started pushing in a squat. My water broke in a pop---I got to have my water break by itself---Yea! Pushing was incredible. No mind involved---all body and instincts. All power and grunting. The nurse yells for the doctor---and calls for him 2 or 3 more times. I'm pushing and pushing. Who is going to catch this baby? Oh the nurse can---that's fine. She starts to get me ready for the conservative doctor---shoves in an IV, puts me back on the bed, legs in stirrups (my mind's saying "no", I'm saying nothing---good reason for a doula). Baby's coming. Doctor runs in, washes his hands and catches my VBAC baby barehanded. 20 minutes of pushing. From 4 cm, -4 station to birth in 3 hours!
There was no support on my perineum as I was instructed to PUSH, PUSH HARDER, so I did tear. Doctor handed the baby to the nurse for all the junk they do---I got her about 10 minutes later. This part wasn't perfect, but in the larger scope of things, a smaller disappointment. I would do many things differently now. Most of all what I know about birth, I learned after my VBAC. I haven't ever been able to apply it to myself, but have used it with my childbirth education classes and my doulaing---all of which came about as the result of this empowering experience.
I would never consider labor and birth without a doula again, and I would seriously consider planning a homebirth, but all in all, it was wonderful. It changed my life. I hope the same for you.
Jacki's Story (c/s for failed induction/ftp, ERCS, induced VBA2C)
Kmom's Notes: Jacki's first c/s was for "failure to progress" after being induced for being 2 weeks overdue. She never got past 2 cm but also never had any very effective contractions. Her second c/s was a scheduled repeat c/s because her doctor convinced her that it was too risky to try a VBAC. She says, "I was so uneducated about the whole thing and I assumed that Dr. knows best."
Her labor for this VBAC baby was also induced (at 41 weeks) because in her state you can't be attended by a midwife after 42 weeks of pregnancy and she was sure that if she had an OB she would end up with a c/s. Jacki's baby was malpositioned; his head was cocked to one side, which is called 'asynclitic'. This may well account for the difficulty in dilating that she had, as well as the intensity of pain that she had. In the end, she felt that the induction was the right thing to do. "We opted for the induction at 41 weeks. It's a good thing we did because I KNOW I would have had another c/s if I had not."
Birth Story
Well, I had my baby boy. What a beautiful boy, what a beautiful experience.
I had gone to have gel put on my cervix and was sent home, then went back again the following Monday and was sent home again. My midwives asked if I wanted to try low-dose pit, and I was very hesitant but after thinking and discussing it with my husband we decided to go for it, only because I was 3-4 cm and 80% effaced.
So I went in Wednesday to be induced. I started contracting very slowly; it was very low-dose. It picked up a bit as they slowly turned it up. It never really got horrible until about 10 hours after they had started it. My midwives don't like to check you until they feel like you are showing signs of change physically. Anyhow, they finally checked me and after being in labor all day I was only 4 cm and still 80%, though I had changed from posterior cervix to anterior. I was so devastated. I couldn't believe I hadn't changed at all. I cried so much. My midwives said we should turn off the pit and let me sleep at the hospital and try again in the morning. I love these women; any other doctor would have put me up on the cold hard table [for surgery]!!! They said as long as the baby is okay we could wait.
So I was started again on the pit on Thursday at 5 a.m. These contractions felt completely different than the ones the day before; they were low and man, did they hurt. I had gone into this wanting no epidural. Come to find out my platelets were so low that I couldn't get one anyhow. That meant if I were to have a c/s, I would have to be under a general---that scared me so much. I was starting to feel defeated. Thank God for my doula and supportive husband and stepmom, they kept me going.
My midwife came in a few hours after they started the pit to check me, still no change. I was ready to scream at this point, I was so sure I was gonna end up cut. She suggested we break my water which I didn't want to do at all. But after thinking about it I decided I couldn't go through another day of labor. This was the 4th day.
So she broke my water. The very next contraction was much more intense. I was in so much pain. I started losing track of time. I kept my cool and stayed on top of them with the help of everyone. A few hours later my midwife checked me; I was at 6 cm. I was so happy to hear that, I thought maybe I can do this! Man, did things get hard; Wow, I couldn't have imagined how hard labor was. My doula kept me focused; I wanted out of my body. They gave me some Nubain but it didn't really help at all. My midwife came back an hour later to check on me and she saw how I was and said "I'm gonna check you, I think you're in transition." So she checked and said I ahd gone from 6 to 9 in one hour!!! If I hadn't been in so much pain, I would have been ecstatic!
She said we are gonna start pushing in a few minutes; half an hour later I started pushing. It was so hard. I found out later it was because the baby's head had cocked sideways against his shoulder. They didn't say anything to me; they put me on my side and held my leg up and made me push. This felt so much better. I felt the urge to push; it felt so good to push. I pushed for almost 2 hours and out came my beautiful son.
It was the most awesome feeling once he came out. I can't describe the joy in my heart that I had my VBAC. I was in shock that my body actually did work. They put him on my chest and he looked at me with his blue eyes. I was in love immediately. What a beautiful experience it was. Hard but wonderful. The recovery was amazing; an hour later I was up taking a shower and walking, joking, feeling high!! What a difference from my 2 c/s. I tore a little bit, not too bad.
I want to praise God for the birth of my son, and thank all of you for your support. And of course, my wonderful midwives whom I truly love and admire, and my doula and supportive family. One more thing, I went in saying I wouldn't do pit or let them break my water, but sometimes you have to change your thinking. I know that it made a difference in my labor; always keep an open mind. Of course think long and hard, but make the best choice for you. And once again Praise God for my wonderful experience and family.
Pamela's Story (2 elective c/s for herpes, VBA2C)
Kmom's Notes: Many women with herpes are sectioned unnecessarily. Women with herpes need to carefully research the issue before making their decisions.
Birth Story
I have 3 wonderful boys. The first was born in 1993 by cesarean. I have herpes, and was so afraid of what that disease would do to my babies. Near the end of my pregnancy, my blood pressure went up, just slightly. It was enough for the doctor to suggest a cesarean and give me a way out. The epidural left me with a window, and I was drugged senseless. I don't remember my first few days with my baby.
My second son was born in 1995 by cesarean. I wasn't so afraid of the herpes this time, but I was still worried. I got sick at the end of the pregnancy, losing weight instead of gaining it. Indigestion is not an indication for a cesarean, but the doctor suggested one. I was supposed to get another epidural but instead received a spinal. The anesthesiologist was new and didn't do it right. I got a spinal headache and they did a blood patch to "fix it." I laid there and cried. I felt I was being punished---I had been in a relationship I shouldn't have been and now I was paying for it. It had been seven years, and I was still paying a heavy price.
When I got pregnant with my third baby, I realized I had been mistreated--once by a former boyfriend, and again by my OB. My boyfriend should have told me I was at risk to get a disease when I was with him. My OB should have told me the risks involved with the cesareans. Neither did. I realized I was fighting for more than a vaginal birth. I was fighting to gain a sense of self-worth. I was fighting to say "I can do this, in spite of you." I was trying to get over my past.
I had two babies and had never labored. I was determined to have my baby, my way. I brought up the subject of VBAC with my OB (the same OB all three pregnancies). He said, "Sure, but your big problem was the herpes." He was playing on my fear. He is responsible for my suffering with this disease--as much or even more than the idiot who gave it to me is. Never once did he suggest natural ways (such as L-lysine) to prevent an outbreak. He did, during my third pregnancy, suggest the prescription drug, Zovirax. He talked about measures they would have to take to monitor for a rupture. When I asked about being more lenient on some of these things, he said, "You are lucky I am even letting you try to birth vaginally after two cesareans." The jerk, he never said anything about this when he suggested the second cesarean. He didn't tell me how hard I would have to fight to birth my baby the next time if I didn't even try to that time.
I hired a doula. I read books. I worked for my VBA2C. I got it without him. At 36 weeks, I interviewed and began seeing a midwife with a doctor backup. She would deliver at the hospital, and would care for me the entire labor. She listened to my concerns. She was understanding. I felt relieved---I had found a supportive caregiver. My water broke about eight Thursday night. With my husband, doula, and midwife's support, I gave birth vaginally, naturally, even joyfully to a conehead baby. My son N was born on Friday, five minutes before noon. I was on a high for days. The high was a natural one---not from drugs. I had done it! It truly was an empowering moment in my life. My baby just turned a year old, and I am still breastfeeding him. He is a content and happy baby.
As for me, I have changed, grown. I feel a burden of guilt has been released. I am a better mom, wife, and woman. I have completed a part of the circle of life that I had skipped before. Doctors say it doesn't matter how your baby comes----that is a lie. The difference is powerful, awesome, and life-changing. I feel a responsibility to support other women who need encouragement. I have started a chapter of International Cesarean Awareness Network in my state, and serve on the national board. I am grateful to those who supported and encouraged me when others thought I was crazy. I did it and it was worth it.
Maddy's Story (breech c/s, 'failed' TOL c/s, hospital VBA2C, home VBA2C)
Kmom's Notes: #3 is another posterior baby story. She used a combination of patience, homeopathic remedies, rocking the hips, and the 'all-fours' position to turn the baby, plus a tub to help cope with the pain in the meantime. Labor stalled at 6 cm, common with posteriors. But because they were willing to wait things out and not force the issue with pitocin, their proactive measures did turn the baby and resulted in a VBAC; in most hospitals this would have turned into another c/s.
Birth Story
Baby #1 was a 42-week planned c-section for breech. The doctor wasn't comfortable trying to deliver her, and couldn't turn her (the cord looked like it might be around her neck). No labor or cervical changes at all.
Baby #2 was also a 42-week baby, an attempted VBAC with "midwives." (Hah! I trusted in the "midwife" label, but they really knew next to nothing that could have helped me.) Spontaneous labor began the day before I was to be induced, but I was "only" progressing 1 cm every few hours, which wasn't fast enough. By the time 30 hours had passed, I was "stuck" at 6.5 cm, and had a beta-strep infection, so I consented to a c-section. The hospital was horrid, and I vowed never to go back there, no matter how far I had to travel. Later, I learned that not eating, and being tied to the bed to "get a good reading on the monitor" had probably significantly contributed to my "failed" VBAC effort.
With Baby #3, I searched everywhere for a caregiver that would give me the benefit of trusting my body to do its job. I needed to move, I needed to eat, I needed to progress at my own pace. I called everywhere, and visited two local practices. One doctor took a look at my chart and told me, "You're overweight, you're out of shape, you failed at labor twice before, you don't progress, and you're going to end up being sectioned anyway. This is a waste of your time and mine." I picked up my jaw from the floor, and moved on...
I was ready to drive almost two hours to a midwifery practice, but one more doc was recommended to me, just across the state line (about 15 miles away). He was wonderful! He calls himself "a midwife in a doc suit," and it's *so* true. He truly believed I could do a VBAC, and was willing to work with me.
Because the first two babies were 9 pounders at 42 weeks, I consented to using a prostaglandin gel to see if we could coax a smaller baby to come at 40 weeks. For three days, I had three gel treatments a day, doses of castor oil, herbal tinctures, homeopathic remedies (pulsatilla and Kali Carb 30) to turn a posterior baby... I had decent labor during the day, went home at night--not too bad, except that by the third day, I was still only about 6 cm dilated--the same place I got stuck last time.
I consented to having my water broke, even though it was a bit earlier than I would have liked. My contractions completely stopped for almost six hours! They suddenly returned though, hard and heavy, at which point, I used a tub (what a lifesaver, especially in getting my own weight off of my back!), and a lot of hot compresses on my back. After three hours of hard back labor, the baby rotated around from her posterior position. Another two hours, and I had dilated the final 3 cm, and she was born!
It was the most wonderful, exhilarating experience of my life. I did it! I actually conquered the beast within, and my body worked as it should, to birth my baby. Funny thing was, even at 40 weeks, she was right at nine pounds anyway! But I did it, with no pain medication, no pit drip, no c-section!
My doc said, "You had the most functional dysfunctional labor I've seen... way to go!" I know I would have been sectioned eight times over anywhere else. The staff was so supportive, and no one made any of those horrible comments like the one nasty doctor had made. (I did want to take my baby and hold her in his face and say, "How's THAT for a waste of time?!?!")
Here I am, almost three years later, with a midwife (new to my area, and absolutely terrific!) who "doesn't see any reason whatsoever why I can't have a home birth." I'm still the same size, but I'm a different woman... I'm confident, I know my body can do it, and I'm looking forward to a great home birth!
Update: Maddy had her home VBA2C just recently! She had another girl, and this baby was 9 lbs. 11 oz. Below is her short version of the birth story.
I had labor off and on all week, so my midwife came Wednesday afternoon to see what we could do to get long and strong and steady labor. I agreed for her to strip my membranes, and things kicked in quickly then. From 7 p.m. to 1 a.m., I dilated from 5 cm to 9-10 cm. I would contract well for an hour or more, then they would slow down and I'd sleep for 45 minutes of so, with contractions spreading out to 5-10 minutes apart. Then my friends would get me up and get me back to work again.
I started pushing about 2 a.m., in the bathroom on all fours, then with one leg half on the toilet seat and me sort of crouching over, then standing....you name it, I tried it!! She was moving down but would NOT crown! My perineum is like vinyl, they said. ;-) She was "right there" for over an hour, and in spite of hot compresses and massage, she just wouldn't crown completely. So my midwife snipped (her second episiotomy EVER!!!), a tiny, tiny little snip, and let me tear from there.
I pushed her out slowly---her head stopped AFTER crowning, but before it was out, and I got a great look in the mirror, and FELT her head finish delivering!!! It was SOOOO cool!!! Then the rest of her came out, again with me feeling her descent and move out---one shoulder at a time...and then it was DONE!!!.....She nurses like a pro, and we're doing well.
Bonnie's Story (2 c/s, insulin-dependent VBA2C)
Kmom's Notes:
Birth Story
I had the most powerful, beautiful, incredible experience of my life. And it only took 4.5 hours from start to finish. Not counting the nine months beforehand, of course.
My first contraction started at 4 p.m. and our 3rd daughter was born at 8:27 p.m. She weighed in at a bountiful 10 lbs., 2 oz. So I guess God said to me, "My child, you have worked hard enough at this pregnancy. You may have the blessing of a speedy labour." Not to say that it was terribly easy. In fact it hurt a whole heck of a lot. Kind of surprised me, actually---don't know why.
I seem to be starting at the end. Let me back up a bit. We all decided that because Dr. M was on call this weekend and I had hit my due date we were going to actively pursue having this baby. At 9 in the morning we went to the midwife's office where I had a quick internal exam and stretch & sweep. I was still four centimeters dilated and 80% effaced. We made a plan to try a castille soap enema, then a castor oil treatment. If that didn't work we would try rupturing my membranes. At any rate, the suitcase was in the car.
We went out and finally found the enema kit, and trooped back to the midwife's office. They had gone out to run errands and do a home visit for another client. The first try didn't work, so the midwife siad to start the castor oil, and then to try the enema again. I took the first dose of castor oil at 2:40 p.m., the enema about a half hour later, and then the second dose of castor oil a half hour after that.
At 4 p.m. I started to feel some contractions along with a lot of cramping (uggghhh, not a pleasant experience, that!). We called my friend to come and get my daughters because I was feeling distracted and needed to be able to focus. At first I had wanted my children around me, but then I wanted them to go. A was really anxious about the pain I was experiencing. Good thing she left when she did. T wanted to stay. I made sure that she knew that things were probably going to get rough.
By 5 p.m. the contractions were getting painful, and still less than 30 seconds duration, but they were only a few minutes apart. I still wasn't totally sure that these weren't just more cramps. DH paged the midwives around 5:25 p.m., and one spoke to me on the phone during a contraction to hear how I was coping. I guess that what she heard reassured her, so she told me she would be right there. DH called my doula at around the same time. I was worried that we were doing all this too soon, but in retrospect I'm awfully glad we did. The midwife arrived at 6 p.m., and not a moment too soon! I was sitting in an office chair and she was kneeling beside me as I had a couple of contractions, and then, whoosh, my water broke at 6:10 p.m. What an incredible feeling! The first thing I said was "I did it myself!" (I guess I was really anxious about having AROM.) What a neat feeling, and it actually relieved a lot of pressure. Everyone commented on how clear the fluid was. (There is some controversy about meconium in the baby when a mom has a castor oil induction.)
At this point, things really started heating up (as if they weren't already!). The contraction felt like they were just ripping my pelvic bones apart, and there was barely time to catch a breath between them. I sat on the birthing ball, squeezing DH's fingers during every contraction---he tried to move his hand once and I almost freaked---I just *needed* his hand. I leaned on the doula, she was just so comfortable and comforting. She spoke to me so quietly, and she said everything I needed to hear. I felt so much trust in her. As I made noises that became high-pitched, she told me to "find my tone", and bring the noises down low. She encouraged everything I did. I felt like I was doing everything right. Between contractions she made sure to help me relax my shoulders (she knows that's where I 'carry' my tension). It was absolute perfection. Looking back, I remember how quiet it was in the room while I was 'working'. What an incredible amount of respect they showed for me.
My daughter sat there quietly the whole time with huge round eyes. She actually got a few minutes of contractions on video, for which I was later thankful.
At around 7:30 p.m., the midwife checked me and I was 6-7 cm. Shortly thereafter, someone suggested I try to get up and go pee. I think that was the turning point. Crashing pain jolted me along the short distance to and from the washroom. I returned to the birthing ball, where the contractions just double-ended one after the other. Around that point, I started asking for an epidural (sheepish grin). The doula got firm with me then, looking closely into my eyes and reminding me of my wishes. I kept saying that I was so tired, and just wanted to sleep for a few minutes, just take a little rest. After a few more minutes of that, something changed.
It didn't hurt as much, and then my body made me make a grunting noise. The midwife asked me if I felt like I needed to push. I said no---and then I grunted again. 8-) She decided to check me again. I remember clearly that she said, "I can't feel the cervix---she's fully!" That sunk in through the pain, and I felt renewed strength. C knelt down in front of me, looked me directly in the eyes and said, "That was transition." Everyone started scurrying around packing things to go in the various cars. It felt so surreal as I looked through the fog and watched all these preparations go on around me. All I was required to do was to stand there. DH was assigned the job of "helping" me get my shoes on. I'm afraid I didn't assist him much, and I stepped on his fingers heavily. Poor guy.
We headed down to the street, where, limelight-hogger that I am, I stood on the sidewalk in my pyjamas and had a very noisy contraction. It was 8 p.m. on a Saturday night in downtown---there were quite a few people to witness the spectacle. I made my way to where the van was, doors standing open. During the 10 minute trip to the hospital, I kept making those grunting, pushing noises, and my doula kept firmly telling me to open my eyes and blow. DH drove, white-knuckled, as quickly as possible, but I don't think he broke one traffic law!
We pulled up to the hospital and walked in at about 8:10 p.m. It was a short ride up to the 6th floor in the wheelchair. I made sure I made lots of noise all the way, so people would hear me coming! ;-) Dr. M popped his head in for a moment, but didn't interfere in any way. Nurses stepped in, too, to bring equipment, but left quickly. I think C spoke to them in the hall and told them their presence wasn't needed.
I still can't believe how undeniable the urge to push was. After the midwives helped me turn on to my side, it was clear sailing (well, almost). The doula moved my hand down as the baby's head crowned (will I ever forget that feeling?). I told them I didn't want to push anymore after the baby's head was half out because I was too tired, and almost in unison they said, "You HAVE to push!" It's a good thing I am so obedient (smirk). The shoulders were slightly stuck, and C moved in to rotate the baby while the backup midwife pushed on my pelvic bone---quite the bruise I have there too, I might add. It was the most amazing feeling as she slid the rest of the way out of me on to the bed.
I was totally surprised as I looked around and saw everyone crying. They put my baby on my chest and covered us with blankets. I was shouting---"I had a baby, I had a baby!" I don't think I have ever been more proud of myself---or more happy. It was the achievement of the biggest goal I had ever set for myself.
We had been at the hospital for 20 minutes. DH, in a choked voice, was the first to announce her sex, and he cut the umbilical cord. I had her at my breast within 5 minutes of her birth.
To my dismay, the midwives wanted me to push out the placenta---I didn't want anything to do with that because I was starting to feel pain after the adrenalin wore off. I thought that was bad, until they wanted to check me for tearing. Oy! I had a second degree tear, and needed 2 internal stitches, and 3 external---all in different places. It was incredibly painful as they discussed the optimal number and placement of stitches and then proceeded to stitch me.
The midwives took blood, and I figured this was a good time to check the baby's blood glucose. I used my own glucometer because it was more accurate than their strips. Her sugars were 3.3 (kmom note: 59 mg/dl), which isn't bad. The pediatrician had told me they would recommend supplementation if the sugars got below 2.2 (~40 mg/dl).
After about an hour and a half, it was over. We were left alone in the room, with only DH's parents (who had arrived while I was being stitched and waited patiently in the hall while they overhead me complain about the pain of the stitches) and my other friend.
The midwives asked us what we wanted to do next. They didn't particularly want us to go home because of the distance if anything should go wrong. Staying in the hospital, with a private room, would cost about $175 because we don't have private insurance. We decided to take a room at one of the nicest hotels in the city. Believe it or not, the rate was only $150! After a total of 5.5 hours, we rolled out of the hospital.
I was still euphoric as we walked (I rolled in a wheelchair) into the splendor of that hotel. We got a room for DH's parents, and by chance the rest of us ended up with a suite. It was incredible. I sat in the living room of our suite, eating pizza from room service and nursing my baby until 5 a.m. I didn't sleep much even after I went to bed, because I couldn't believe this was all real. The baby slept between us in the queen-size bed.
When I called down to the desk to arrange for a late check-out, I spoke to the assistant manager. i explained that I had just had a baby, and we had spent her first night there. The woman was suitably impressed and gave us permission to stay till 3 p.m., with her congratulations. A short while later, a knock came at the door. It was a waiter with a lovely tray of fruit and candies. There was also a card, addressed to the baby. It said, "Dear baby xxxx, Thank you for spending your very first night with us here at xxxxx. We hope you will come visit us again when you get older." It was signed by all the staff at the desk. I cried at the thoughtfulness of it.
Later in the morning, we ordered a room service breakfast for the family as we waited for the midwives to arrive for a pre-arranged 'home' visit. The waiter arranged the white linen cloth, crystal, and fresh flowers on the oak dining table in our suite and set out the covered plates. I sipped my fresh-squeezed orange juice and devoured the most delicious scrambled eggs, home fries, and sausage. How much better than the hospital is this?
The midwives check me and the baby. We had check her sugars two more times and they were holding stable at 3.6 and 3.3. (65 and 59 mg/dl) She had also been nursing almost constantly. All was well.
It is now a week later, and I think we have settled in nicely. The two older girls both seem to love their little sister. I could wish for more sleep, but in the end I am awed by the strength and alertness of a healthy, full-term baby, having never had one before.
I have had 2 previous cesareans. I also had insulin-dependent Type II diabetes. I am 5 ft. tall. I worked very hard at normalizing this last pregnancy and I trained as if I was going into a marathon: good food, lots of exercise, saw all my caregivers regularly. But do you know what I think the most important thing was? I educated myself, and made all my own decisions. It can be done.
Teresa's Story(2 prior cesareans due to malpositions, VBA2C)
Kmom's Notes: A story of malpositions! Her first probably had a malposition (postdates, distressed baby, water broke, terrible back labor, no descent of baby), and her second was stubbornly breech.
Her third probably also initially had a malposition (went overdue, water broke, back labor, labor too painful lying down, transition-like labor but stuck in early to mid-labor, baby not engaged, sudden change in labor probably indicating that baby had resolved its position, quick dilation and birth after that, baby had bruised forehead from where it was probably stuck for a while). Since this malposition was able to resolve on its own, she went on to have a lovely VBAC.
Birth Story
Baby #1 (cesarean): Water broke at 42 weeks with meconium, went to the hospital, shaved practically from the neck down, pitocin to start labor, HORRIBLE back labor, got the epidural that I swore I wouldn't get, could feel absolutely nothing, got to 10 cm and tried pushing for a couple of hours but couldn't feel anything so I'm sure it wasn't very effective. After 2 hours of pushing had a c/s for 'failure to progress,' 'CPD,' and distressed baby. (I was 20 and very naive--the doctor and hospital staff scared me into thinking the baby was in grave danger.) Baby was perfect, 7 & 9 apgars, no complications with the surgery. Had mild to moderate post partum depression for about a month. I'm now convinced that she was probably malpositioned. [Kmom note: She notes that she was not heavy for this pregnancy.]
Baby #2 (cesarean): I had divorced and remarried. Baby was breech from 32 weeks. Tried everything including version and standing on my head to get her to turn, had c/s at 39 weeks. Baby was perfect, 8 & 9 apgars. Still stubborn as a mule!
Baby #3 (VBAC): Even though my daughters' births were joyous occasions and resulted in two healthy and beautiful babies, I felt like I had missed something. I had always wanted natural childbirth and for my third (and most likely last) birth, I wanted it desperately. As crazy as it may sound, I longed to feel the pains of labor, to feel my baby emerge from my body, and to hold my baby while he was still warm and slippery with amniotic fluid, instead of hours later after a dozen or so people had laid hands on him. So I did everything I could to attain that goal. I read every book ever written on VBAC, scoured the internet for information and statistics on the safety of VBAC, went to Yoga class, made my husband read about natural childbirth, hired a doula, and generally drove everyone close to me a little crazy, including my wonderful and VERY patient husband.
The last and probably most important step I took to ensure that I got the birth that I wanted was to change doctors at 34 weeks. I didn't feel I was getting the support I needed from the doctor/midwife team I was seeing. My office visits were with the midwives, but since I had had 2 cesareans I was considered 'high risk' and so the doctor (whom I never actually met) became involved in my care. The 'rules and requirements' of my labor changed from visit to visit and became more and more conservative the farther I got along. There seemed to be too many conflicting opinions on VBAC. I felt that whoever ended up on call when I went into labor would determine the fate of my child's birth. The emotional burden of that was too much for me to handle. I needed to know that everyone around me wanted the same thing that I did and BELIEVED that I could get it.
I found a wonderful and much smaller doctor/midwife team. During our consultation visit the doctor explained all the risks of VBAC that I had heard many times before. He asked me how I wanted to proceed and, after that initial visit, cesarean section was never mentioned to me again. I was treated just like any other pregnant woman---not one who might expire at any moment. I think the changing of doctors changed the odds of success in my favor----both emotionally and physically.
For the first 6 months I developed severe allergies and asthma. I couldn't get out of bed without being out of breath. I coughed until I thought my eyes would pop out. I was on about 5 medications, which worried me a LOT. At about 7 months is just sort of went away relatively suddenly. Very weird.
My due date came and went. I was becoming more and more depressed because of the possibilities of inducement, the baby being too big, etc. Even though my providers hadn't mentioned these things yet, all the things that could sabotage my hopes for a natural birth were floating around in my mind. One evening 8 dates after my due date, about 10:30 p.m., I felt a little pop and thought my water had broken. About 10 minutes later came a little gush of fluid, but not even enough to wet the bed. I got up and went to the bathroom but there was only a little trickle and I felt a little contraction. I went to my husband and told him I thought my water had broken but I wasn't sure.
My DH got out his stop watch. We walked around and I was having small contractions but nothing I couldn't walk and talk through. I still had a slow trickle of fluid leaking so at around 11:30 we decided to call the midwife. She said to try and get some rest and see if things picked up, but to come to the hospital around 6 a.m. regardless of what was happening since my water had broken. We called the doula and the grandparents. I kept having contractions; they seemed to be close together but they weren't very strong so I sort of dismissed them. We tried to get a little sleep, but as soon as I laid down the contractions got harder and I had to start my yoga breathing. We timed contractions but they didn't really have a pattern at all. Around 1 a.m. I got too uncomfortable to lay down anymore so I got up and walked a little bit. Things seemed to me to be speeding up so we called the doula. She came and put us at ease right away. She thought I was still in early labor and should try to get some more rest. As soon as I lay down, I'd have to get back up---the theme of my labor. I decided to get in the bathtub to try and pass some time and relax. I told my DH to take a nap. I filled the tub with water as warm as I dared and turned on the jets----ahhhh heaven! I stayed in the tub for at least a couple of hours and just tried to control my breathing and relax, and I think I even dozed off at some point. By the time I got out of the tub I was using yoga sound to get through my contractions.
I waddled back to bed, had a contraction, and got back up. Things started getting more serious. A little while later we woke the doula. She had me sit on the birthing ball and helped me through some contractions. I was holding a lot of tension in my shoulders and she laid her hands on me there and was talking to me in her low, calm voice. She made me some toast and juice but I only managed to drink a few sips of juice. By this time it was around 5 a.m. I really felt like things were getting faster and felt an urgency to get to the hospital. I think my husband felt it too. My doula said she thought I was around 4 cm dilated and I was satisfied I'd done enough work at home. We prepared to go to the hospital, making all our phone calls, finishing packing our bag, etc. The grandparents took my younger daughter, and the older one went to the hospital with the doula. I expected the drive to be the worst part of my labor but it actually turned out to be one of the calmest moments I had during the entire labor. It was dawn and there was a thick, heavy fog. It felt like we were driving through a dream. I had my eyes closed most of the time and just concentrated on my breath, relaxation, and humming along with my contractions on an "O" sound, and also with a closed mouth hum.
We arrived at the hospital around 6:30 a.m. When I got there, the nurse told me I was fully effaced but only 2 cm dilated and the baby was at a -3 station. My first thought was, "Where are the drugs?" Needless to say, I didn't find the nurses' evaluation of my progress to be very encouraging. Fortunately, my mind didn't have time to dwell on that information because my body went into overdrive. Between the exam room and the L&D room, I had to stop for a half-dozen or so contractions and was making a considerable amount of noise. My nice controlled "O-O-O-O" ended up sounding like a very loud "O-O-OUCH."
We made it to the L&D room and the nurse wanted to hook me up for the 20 minute monitor strip and the heparin lock I had agreed to in case of emergency. At this point I was leaning with my contractions---on my DH, the wall, the bed, the birthing ball. It wasn't my intention to be difficult, but lying or sitting in bed was TOTALLY out of the question and the nurse was very anxious to get the monitor strip going. The doula suggested I sit on the birthing ball for the monitor strip. I tried that but couldn't really sit through the contractions. I ended up leaning against the cabinet the monitor was sitting on for about 10 minutes and making a lot of noise. I'm sure the nurse thought I was insane because I was only 2 cm dilated and all. DH was taking his job of birth advocate very seriously, going over the birth plan with everyone who walked in the room.
After about 10 minutes of ineffective monitoring and loud chanting of O-O-Os, I suddenly had an absolutely overwhelming urge to go to the bathroom. I expressed this to everyone. The nurse suggested I leave the monitor belt on and go use the bathroom. I said NO, take it off, I need to go NOW. The doula took my eldest daughter to the waiting room, as she wanted to be there but didn't want to see everything happen, and things were getting intense pretty quickly. DH asked me if I wanted to go to the bathroom by myself and I said yes so he left me there. Everything unnecessary for giving birth to a baby came out of my body.
My yoga sounds started changing. What started out as O-O-O was now ending up as a ferocious growl. I had a tremendous urge to push and the contractions were coming one right after another. I was still sitting on the toilet growling through my contractions, while DH was outside 'discussing' methods of IV insertion with the nurse. I didn't care. He checked on me to see if I was alright. I told him I didn't think I could do this anymore. He told me later that when I said this he was really happy because he knew that one of the signs of transition was self-doubt. (I just knew that Bradley book would come in handy!) He helped me back to the room where I ended up on the birthing ball again. I think more than one person was telling me to quit pushing, to blow through it. I couldn't have quit pushing if you had paid me a million dollars. At this point the nurse brought in release forms because I guess she was convinced she wasn't going to get her 20-minute monitor strip or an IV. I signed. My doula whispered to me that it was okay, I definitely wasn't at 2 cm anymore. Believe it or not, at this time we had only been at the hospital for about 1.5 hours.
My midwife arrived and said something like, "How are
things going?" I think I growled at her. She smiled and told me
I was doing fine. She wanted me to get on the bed so she could check my
progress. I asked her if I could stay on my hands and knees and she said
sure, we'll try it. I ended up on my knees, leaning up against the propped
back of the bed with my elbows. This is where I stayed for the rest of the
birth. I had
actually listened to a birth story in yoga class of a woman who used this
position, but never thought I would end up using it.
In retrospect though, I think it kept me focused and uninhibited because
I was totally oblivious to anyone else in the room besides Adam, Sabrina and
Sara.
The
midwife checked
me and not only was I completely dilated, the baby was now at +2 station. It was really happening.
This registered with me and I think I said something like, “The
baby’s really coming?” I was
too busy growling to really be all that excited about it.
The doula was talking to
me even though I couldn’t tell you what she was saying.
DH was crying now and
told me my how good I was doing.
I
was growling and pushing and growling and pushing.
The doula was soothing me
and rubbing the top of my back. The
midwife was putting warm compresses and some sort of oil or gel on my
bottom and rubbing the lower part of my back.
DH rubbed my feet a
little and watched in amazement as the first glimpse of baby started to appear.
My midwife told me I was
going to hurt my throat if I kept growling like that.
(Unfortunately, it was already too late for my throat.
I could barely talk for about a week after the baby came.)
She told me to bring it down. Bring
it down to the baby. I tried to do
that and then suddenly I could feel the baby moving down.
I could actually feel it – it was the wildest thing – all the sound
went inward and I could feel the baby moving down.
When each contraction ended I would feel the baby move back up a little
and I would think, “No – go down, go down.”
Then, as things progressed the midwife told me the baby was crowning.
She didn’t really need to tell me because I felt the RING OF FIRE,
which you read about, but cannot truly appreciate until you have experienced it.
At that point I was thinking, “Go back up, go back up!”
But there was no turning back now, the baby was almost here.
All during this period the nurse was still trying to check the baby’s
heartbeat with the doppler. I
can’t even imagine what we would have done if she couldn’t have found it.
I wanted her to just leave
me alone, but I was having to concentrate too hard and couldn’t really convey
that message.
The
midwife asked
DH if he wanted to help deliver the baby. He
was the first to touch the baby. My
baby’s first experience with the outside world was his daddy touching his
little head. With the position I was in (upright but leaning over), the baby
came out with his face pointing up instead of down, and the first thing the baby
saw when he came out with his eyes wide open was the same person who was
touching him, his daddy. After the
head was delivered the rest of the baby came within one or two more pushes and
it was amazing. All the pain was
instantly and totally gone. My
midwife announced, “It’s a boy!” and at 8:43 a.m. my son officially
entered the world weighing in at 8 lbs 6 oz (bigger than either of my c-section
babies).
I
turned around so I could see and hold my new son. DH kissed me and told me
how beautiful we were. I was too
shocked to even cry. All I could do
was look at the beautiful, naked little being that was still attached to my body
and say, “We did it, little man. We
really did it.” I think I said
that to everyone.
I
held the baby and DH cut the cord. I
held my baby while they cleaned him up and checked him out.
His forehead was a little bruised from coming so fast, but otherwise he
was perfect. [Kmom note: The bruised
forehead probably indicates the malposition!] I tried to nurse
him. It didn’t take him long to
catch on and I nursed him for a little while.
They brought me a warm blanket for the baby and we lay skin to skin
covered in a nice warm blanket for a while.
My doula went to get my
oldest daughter and tell her the good news.
The midwife checked me
out and - can you believe it – NO tears, no stitches required.
She did think my cervix might have a little laceration, so she had the
doctor check me out. Luckily, it
was only swollen. Our nurse was
quite impressed with us, I think, and let us have extra time in the
labor/delivery room with the baby before they took him to weigh, measure and
bathe him. She was a good sport and was very happy and proud for us,
even though I’m sure we were her nightmare patients. Everyone, including us, was amazed that we had only been at
the hospital just a little over two hours.
We were still signing release forms after it was all over with.
The midwife told me later
that when she arrived at the hospital and heard me (I imagine the whole
maternity ward could hear me) and checked my chart she told the nurse, “This
is either really, really good – or it’s going to be a REALLY long day!”
It was really, really good.
I
had a natural and pure birth. No
drugs, no IV, no monitor, no cutting of anything.
It was the most amazing thing I have ever done.
Was it easier than having a cesarean?
No – absolutely not. But
it was completely satisfying, and perfect, and exactly as God designed it.
I was a participant – not a spectator.
I did it. With the help of
three loving and wonderful people, I did it.
The recovery period was easier than a cesarean, no contest.
The birth was powerful and intense and that’s exactly how I felt when
it was all over: powerful and energized. After
being awake all the previous night, it was almost 24 more hours before I slept.
I went home the next day to be with my family.
I had the most perfect birth I could have dreamed of. It meant more to me than I can even put into words. It was the difference between giving birth and having surgery. But it was more than that. I didn’t have a horrible experience with either of my c-sections, so it’s very difficult to explain the psychological impact that they had on me. My quest for a natural birth was about being whole, instead of cut in half. It was also as much about healing the scar on my belly as it was about bringing new life into the world. It was about trusting myself and my body - and even God.
Honestly, I had expected to have a huge emotional response when the baby was handed to me right after delivery. I fantasized about that moment almost daily while I was pregnant. As it turned out, all I could do right after delivery was stare in amazement and shock at my baby. The emotional response came a few weeks later when I got a note from my midwife thanking ME for letting HER be a part of the birth. I had also gotten a call from my doula telling me how wonderful the birth was for her. To know that the birth had touched other people made me realize just how amazing it truly was. As I read my midwife’s note, all the tears of hope, joy, fear, and relief that I had been wishing and praying for during the last nine months washed over me. I thanked God and I wept.
Julia's Story (c/s for non-progress, distress; ERCS; VBA2C)
Kmom's Notes: This mom is from the United Kingdom. She says she was treated as if a VBA2C was unheard of and that she was expecting the unattainable. Ha!
Birth Story
My first birth [was an] emergency c-section, 10 days before my due date. After suffering with a severe headache for several hours, I called my midwife. She arrived, and after taking my blood pressure, advised me to go into hospital immediately. The starting of pre-eclampsia was mentioned. I was induced with a suppository (can't remember the name of it) that evening. After several hours of mild contractions, on a VERY VERY busy maternity ward, I was advised to take a sleeping tablet so that I would be rested for tomorrow, as it would all be happening then. (In hindsight and now being less naive, I believe because the ward was SOOOO busy.)
The next morning I was strapped up to a monitor and induced by pitocin. After around 4 hours of contractions, I was checked and found to be about 1.5 cm dilated. After a couple more hours my waters were then broken, to speed things up. Then a couple more hours I was checked again. At this point I disagree with what was recorded in my notes. I'm SURE I was told, only 1.5 to 2 cms dilated. Absolute horror. I could not believe it. I can remember thinking the labour will take 2 or 3 days, at this rate. (My medical notes say that the second check I was 4 to 5 cms. dilated!!!)
I then asked for a C-Section. (This was at the back of my mind all along, as I was uneducated in childbirth. I am a dress size UK 10 and was afraid it would hurt too much.) My wish was granted, after the medical staff quickly justified that the baby was slightly distressed too. Or maybe because it was around 7 p.m. on a Friday night?
I believe the medical notes say the baby was sunny-side up [posterior]. This may explain why there was apparently "slow progress.' Recovered reasonably well after the operation.
My second birth [was an elected C-Section]. Booked in for the ERCS at 1 week before due date. I was advised to have a Trial of Labor. But all the old fears were there, could I do it, still uneducated in childbirth, but also had the added complication that I had a dermoid cyst on my ovary that needed to be removed. In my eyes the TOL could fail. I didn't dilate very fast in the first birth, and would probably need another C-Section anyway, and I needed an operation to remove the cyst. Seemed easier to have 2-for-1, remove baby and remove cyst at the same time. (If I had known the pressure I would be against for a normal birth for baby number 3, rather than another C-Section, maybe I should have tried a bit harder for a normal birth for this baby.)
My waters broke on their own accord, one week before the planned c/s. After contracting for several hours we went into the hospital. I was asked again if I wanted a TOL, as I had dilated to 4-5 cms. Oh, I didn't know I could do that. I still said no. Baby and cyst and ovary all removed at the same time. Baby was in perfect position for delivery, i.e., not sunny-side-up. The recovery after this operation took a lot longer this time. Probably due to the cyst/ovary being removed, as well as an active 3.5 year old to look after.
My third birth was my successful VBA2C. I thought it would be for the best, physically and emotionally, to prove to myself that I was a 'normal' woman who could actually deliver a baby. I educated myself on childbirth (at last) and decided to try for a VBAC. Easy, I thought, they had offered me a TOL before, they should do it again.
But after the first visit to see my midwife at 15 weeks, the midwife had stated along the lines, "Oh, the consultant won't allow a normal delivery, not after 2 c-sections. But we could try." I started reading up on VBAC and all the dangers (?). For the whole of this pregnancy I felt I had to be one step in front of the consultants, and at times the midwives.
I met my consultant at around 18 weeks. Without even discussing the delivery with me, he read "2 previous c-sections" on my notes and started to write "ERCS" again. I stopped him and said that I wanted to discuss my plans with him. I told him I had read up VBAC extensively, and I was prepared to continue with my initial plan for a TOL. He relented, but stated that the pregnancy and delivery had to be normal, with no complications. He implied he would not agree to a breech birth, or if the baby was too large, went over-due, etc. He planned to see both myself and my husband to further discuss the birth plan at 36 weeks.
At 20 weeks I had a slight bleed. A scan revealed a possibly low-lying placenta, with veins covering up the cervical Os, and that possibly one of these veins had burst. After the initial worry that I was miscarrying, I tried to prepare myself mentally for the visit from my consultant. The first thing my consultant said to me was along the lines, "Well, these complications throw your TOL out of the window!" Having had a low-lying placenta with my second child, I knew that this could change significantly and correct itself in the later stage of pregnancy. So I told him.
At this point I had stopped trusting the NHS [National Health Service]. So I had a private, more detailed scan at 25 weeks, in the hope this would reveal if I definitely had a low-lying placenta, and what had caused the slight bleed. This private scan showed the nearest vein to my cervix was 6.5 cms away, that the low-lying placenta had indeed moved higher up, and that there was no complications. Oh yeah, and we were expecting a girl.
Expecting a confrontation at my 36 week check-up with my consultant, in a strange way I was slightly disappointed that he agreed I could have the TOL. He did strongly recommend that once labour had been established that I was continuously monitored. I wanted an active birth, and everything I had read had encouraged this to reduce the possibility of a repeat c/s. I was a little non-committal about this and said I would think about it more. Save that one for another day.
Three and a half weeks before my due date I started having contractions. Apparently these were only "ripening of the cervix" pains. After two days of these pains, with very little sleep at night, I started having proper contractions. After several hours we went into hospital. Once there and settled into the labour room, I was checked after 4 hours. I was 3 or 4 cms. This was going well, not too much pain. No drugs at all. Then the discussion for continuous monitoring was raised again, as I was in established labour. I said I needed to think about it more, and needed to discuss it with my husband. The midwife and assistant midwife came back after 30 minutes and because I still had not agreed to it, suggested the duty consultant have a word with me. He turned up shortly after and tried to convince me. I expressed my concern that if I was continuously monitored I could not walk around, and that if there was a slight problem with the baby's heartbeat, everyone would overreact and that I would immediately be taken for an emergency c/s. (At this point I think I was unduly pressed into continuous monitoring, and the fear that I could be harming the baby was mentioned.) I said I would still think about it, and would have an answer soon.
The pains were starting to get really painful now, and I was checked again. I was about 8 cm. I had actually made it this far!! It was going well, but I now needed "gas and air" for the pain. I agreed finally to the continuous monitoring. I was duly strapped to the monitor, and because the monitor did not appear to be working very well if I was standing, it was easier to lie on the bed. After about an hour, the midwife and assistant midwife became concerned with the baby's heartbeat. Apparently she wasn't recovering very well after a contraction. The consultant came in to examine me and could not determine how the baby was lying.
After a quarter of an hour or so I was wheeled into the delivery room, where there was quite a large gathering of doctors and nurses. The consultant tried to find out internally how the baby was lying. It was excruciatingly painful. It didn't appear to work because he still didn't know. He then told me he needed to perform an episiotomy, which he then carried out. He then said I was fully dilated, and that it was urgent to get the baby out as quickly as possible, and that he was going to use the suction cap [vacuum extractor]. I did hear him muttering to the others about checking the operating room was ready, just in case.
Oh great, I've come all this way and now this. When he told me to push, I really really pushed. After two major contractions, with him pulling and me pushing, WOW, the proudest moment of my life, I delivered my little girl. I had done it. After a quick check she was passed to me. My gorgeous girl.
As the last stage of labour was so quick and with the force used with the suction cap [not to mention the episiotomy, which often extends into worse tearing---Kmom], I did tear very badly. When I asked the consultant how many stitches he was putting in, as he seemed to be taking a long time sewing, he said he had lost count (!). I did also lose, if I remember correctly, half a pint of blood, and had to take those awful iron tablets for two weeks after the birth. But the recovery was MUCH MUCH easier and quicker than a c/s.
My daughter had an Apgar of 9 at one minute, and an Apgar of 10 at five minutes. So why all the urgency to 'remove her immediately?' I was minutes away from another c/s. Did these 'professionals' overreact because of the continuous monitoring? If I had not been monitored would I have ended up needing an episiotomy, or an assisted delivery? I can only guess.
Rachel's Story (2 prior cesareans for "big baby" and "unstable lie;" VBA2C)
Kmom's Notes: Rachel is in the U.K. as well, in Wales. She was also told that VBA2C was practically unheard of and really had to fight even to get a trial of labor.
The United Kingdom has a different medical system and terms for its doctors. According to Rachel, the Consultant is the consultant OB, the highest up. Junior doctors make a progression through the following grades: Pre-registration House Officer, Senior House Officer (SHO), Registrar, Senior Registrar, Specialist Registrar. When reading the story, remember these unfamiliar terms refer to doctors of varying seniority and 'grades.'
Birth Story
On Friday, 19th July, I was 2 weeks overdue by my dates, longer by the hospital's. Having had 2 previous cesareans, I could not safely be induced and it was imperative I go into labour on my own. Every day that passed piled on the pressure. My midwives had to refer me for an appointment to speak to the consultant [OB], as I was getting "out of the realms of normal." The appointment was set for Monday. So this weekend was make or break time.
There was little point trying 'natural' methods of induction, as we'd been trying them all for weeks. And I mean all!...I really had no idea what labour was going to be like. I had two children but had never given birth. Never even had a contraction. My eldest daughter was born by caesarean at 38 weeks, because a scan showed her abdominal circumference to be way over the 90th centile. This was attributed to her multicystic displastic kidney, which had been discovered during an earlier scan. There was fear that her abdomen would get stuck after her head and shoulder were delivered. We were told she would die. When she came out, though, we were told she would have been fine being born vaginally. She weighed 8 lbs. 13 oz.
My second child, my son, was also born by caesarean for absolutely stupid reasons. He had been an unstable lie at 39 weeks---changing positions with alarming frequency. After a brief spell in hospital, I was discharged when he finally engaged head down. I had to return to hospital for daily monitoring and palpation, and was instructed to rush in the second I went into labour. I did not go into labour. I was "allowed" to go ten days over but was then cut, after threats of "dead baby, dead mother." Failure to wait. Failure to fight. Failure to know better. I was told he would be very big. He weighed 9 lbs. 1 oz.
Because my two elder children were born, their birthdays are two of the most wonderful days of my life, but I am sad to say I did not give birth to them. They were unnecessarily extracted from my abdomen. I had no input into their births. I was immobile, drugged, cut. I didn't feel them coming out of my body. My husband played no active part in their births. We were onlookers in a medical circus. I will always mourn their deliveries a little, even as I celebrate their births.
Everything about this birth was different.
On Friday, I had a lot of Braxton-Hicks. They were strong, long and regular...I really had a feeling things might be starting, but I didn't want to jinx it. I finished off my last piece of work. My favourite midwife rang to tell me she was on call all weekend. It all seemed almost too good to be true. [But the contractions petered out eventually. However, the next morning they started up again.]
Contractions had taken on a new tone. By 8:30 a.m. [Saturday] I was starting to believe that maybe this was it, but was surprised; I had always imagined labouring at night. I also expected to be vomiting and have diarrhoea. I thought I would have a show. All these preconceptions were from listening to other people's birth stories, and mine was proving to be different. I said to DH, "But I haven't had a show yet!!" then went to the toilet, and had a show. Began to get excited....I would not let myself sit down, just kept moving and upright as much as possible.
We had intended to stay at home as long as possible---till at least 7 cm dilated, and maybe longer, having an "accidentally on purpose" Home Birth After Cesarean---and part of the plan was not to tell the midwife anything was going on until much later. Something told me, however, that I should call and just let her know. I had felt a couple of movements that morning from the baby, but not a lot and certainly not what I was used to. I had no idea whether babies slowed down during labour. The only thing I really wanted checked was the baby's wellbeing. The midwife sounded almost as excited as me on the phone. She said she would call back in an hour, but I said no hurry. We were going out for a walk...to post a couple of gifts and cards that I knew we would never get around to once the baby was here. It's only a five minute walk, but I had to stop a couple of times to get through contractions. I had my TENS machine on, and was trying really hard to keep the wires hidden so no one would work out I was in labour....
My contractions weren't at all what I expected. Don't know why, but I thought the pain would be around my scar area and cervix. Instead I felt them in my lower back and across the front of my thighs. This was a relief; at least I couldn't get worried that the pain was my old scars rupturing. I felt no pain around my scar area throughout...each contraction was like this incredibly powerful surge, a building force inside me, like thunder brewing. With each one, in these early stages, I was focusing on relaxing, thinning and opening. Kept trying to visualise those beautiful orange lilies unfolding and hoping my cervix was doing the same. I kept telling myself that each surge was bringing my baby closer to me. Each one done was one less to be done.
By 11:30 a.m. things seemed to be getting stronger, fast. The midwife rang back and I initially said no, she didn't need to come out to us, but she assured me it really was no problem and she was on the road anyway. I said I'd quite like the baby checked out, so she said she'd be over soon. About 5 minutes after we spoke, I had a big contraction and my waters started to go. I was stunned---I had half planned to have my baby born in the caul, and certainly never dreamt my waters would break so early on! When I looked down, my heart sank. I really thought at this point that my VBAC was scuppered; the waters were basically brown. I knew straight away it was meconium, though DH thought it might be blood. Luckily we knew the midwife was on the way...As soon as the midwife came into my room I showed her the mec. She kept her voice very stead but I could tell she was worried in those few moments before she picked up the heart tones. She told me not to panic. The heartbeat was fine, and we all breathed a sigh of relief. She advised us to go into the hospital straight away, though...I told our 4 year old daughter that her new brother or sister would be here that day. One way or another, I knew it would be true. She positively beamed.
[As soon as our friends arrived to take care of our kids, we left for the hospital.] I had thought the car journey would be awful, but it was great. Just me and DH, driving through our beautiful Welsh countryside, listening to one of the tapes he had made for me to birth to. We stopped for petrol and illicit snacks. We took our time. When we arrived at the hospital...I walked...up the stairs to the delivery suite---refused the lift, let alone a wheelchair. Did have to stop 3 times en route though. The delivery room was every bit as bleak as I remembered from the tour...Pretty soon I was assessed: 3 cms dilated but 100% effaced, baby at -3, high, ROT [Kmom note: ROT = Right Occiput Transverse--the baby was facing sideways, not a good position for birth]. I was pleased, except for the ROT bit. At least I had started dilating.
The SHO who assessed me said she could feel some membranes in front of the baby's head, which she would remove. It was only when she started unwrapping the hook that I realised she was planning to do AROM, which seemed odd as my waters had definitely gone. I asked if there was a problem having these membranes. She said yes, they could be stopping the baby's head dropping. I said that I did NOT want her to remove them. The midwife said, straight away, "Right, we won't do it then" and that was the end of that story. I did agree, however, as per my birth plan, to have a cannula [heplock---Kmom] inserted. It was one of those concessions I was willing to make. Also had some blood taken so they could do a group and save, all of which seemed a bit melodramatic to me. The SHO said she's be back in a couple of hours to see how we were doing.
Over the next couple of hours, I tried hard to get things how I wanted, and to find a good position. Because of the mec, I was strapped to monitors, but refused to lie down and kept going to the toilet and for walks---any excuse to get away from the machine that goes ping. DH and I talked a lot about how you just end up watching the stupid monitor...My contractions kept strong and regular...I had some double peaks, and commented to the midwife how I had expected more of a rest between them. She asked whether I wanted to try gas and air (entonox). At first I hated it. I felt like I was a bit drunk, and I didn't want to be out of control. Five minutes later, however, I was asking to try it again!
When the SHO returned, I was hoping to be about 6 cm...The whole process of being examined was excruciatingly painful to me. I hated lying down. Everything seemed ten times more painful and somehow all wrong. I kept saying to my DH, "Just don't let me get on this bed. I hate it!" This time, I was found to be 3-4 cm, and the baby was still high. I was incredibly disappointed, as the contractions had been strong and regular. I didn't feel like I was stalling. The SHO asked me not to eat or drink as I was high risk...I said I disagreed. A second midwife was around at this point and asked me to confirm that we were going against this advice, as she had to write it down. I managed to discuss quite coherently the facts about aspiration during anaesthesia. No one objected to our decision. The SHO said we were not making enough progress, however. She said she would "give us" a further two hours, but then we would need to "look at alternatives." DH and I basically ignored this.
It was at this point I had my moment of doubt, my transition type phase. I was really annoyed I had made no progress. I knew I needed to relax, I knew the contractions needed to be more effective. I knew all this, and yet what I wanted was to have an epidural. I wanted to rest. I tried to convince myself that perhaps if I could relax more, I would dilate more. The logic was so warped, yet it seemed to make sense at the time. Everything I knew about epidurals and the cascade of intervention didn't seem to matter. I remembered reading that an epidural can sometimes be helpful in a VBAC. I thought things were going to get a hell of a lot worse before the end. I felt no disappointment with myself when I asked for an epidural; it really did seem to make sense. Thank goodness for my DH and my midwife. They said all the right things. They pressed all the right buttons. The midwife suggested gas and air for a bit longer, and leave it half an hour or more to see how we were doing. DH basically said that if I had an epidural, I would not have my VBAC. I wouldn't know when to push. I would be working against gravity. He reminded me about a woman we had seen on the hospital tour who had asked how quickly she could have the epidural---did I want to be like that? That was really all it took to persuade me that I really didn't want one. When the SHO returned to ask if I was waiting for an epidural, I quickly said no.
From that point on, things went much better. Like a long distance runner, you just find your rhythm. I found a position perched on the edge of the bed which really worked for me. I kept mobile, kept upright. My waters, which had gone with a gush at home, seemed to just keep going---there were 3 or 4 more major gushes while I sat on the edge of the bed. The midwife was amazed how much kept coming, she said my stomach looked half the size after! Each gush brought more and more meconium, which DH and the midwife quickly cleared away in case one of the doctors came in and panicked. DH and I had lots of cuddles and kisses, we listened to our music, I asked for the blinds to be shut, started to go more within myself. During one intense contraction someone barged straight into the room and started talking to the midwife. After that distraction, I asked for a sign to be put on the door, and after that we had no unexpected visitors. Taking charge in small ways like this made a real difference to us. Even just wearing my own clothes was important.
The next time the SHO came in...I was 6 cm. They said the baby was still high, still ROT, but it felt like real progress to me. The doctors looked at the monitor and were concerned that there may be some late decels. DH and Julie told them that these were not decels, but losses of contact from when I had changed position. Poor Julie spent a lot of hours on her hands and knees trying to keep a good contact; there was no way I was lying down, and no way I was not moving. She never asked me to. She just persevered, trying to get the best trace possible. We never had any doubts about the baby's heartbeat. The doctors, of course, did. They said they would have to call my OB.
When he came he was unconcerned about the mec. He was calm, happy with how I was doing, and very supportive----a far cry from his attitude antenatally. He said that it was he who had been worrying about this for months, which got quite a few coughs around the room; he conceded that perhaps he wasn't the only one who had been worried. When he returned some time later, he said he'd really like to be 100% sure that the baby was OK. He wanted to put an internal scalp monitor on the baby. I asked whether this would stop me moving; he quickly said no. He asked if he could examine me and do this. Once more onto the bed, once more writhing in agony. I was very vocal at this point! My OB gave me the best news I could have. The baby's head was now anterior, at spines, and I was 7 cms. He said if I hadn't been making so much noise, he might even have spent more time and made it 8 cms! He was very relaxed. The scalp electrode was attached without me even noticing. The OB was totally positive; he said he thought "we were going to get away with this," that he felt the baby would fit through my pelvis, would come vaginally, I may need a bit of help but that was all. When questioned further, he said he meant maybe forceps or ventouse, but only if the baby wasn't coming down. I was on cloud nine and really did not care; I knew now that I could do this. I was in transition, according to the textbooks, but feeling like I was flying through this. The contractions were really manageable. Strong, regular, working. The gas and air and TENS booster button gave me something else to focus on, to work with.
About 9 p.m. I felt a bit pushy towards the end of each contraction. My midwife noticed my uterus working and realised I was pushing involuntarily. She asked if she could examine me and I was happy for her to. She said I was about 9.5 cm with a tiny lip, so could I try not to push as we didn't want the lip to thicken. I did try panting over the top of the contractions but really could not help pushing a bit at the end of each one. Around this time I lost some blood. Unfortunately this coincided with the baby's heart trace being lost temporarily. I was too far within myself to be concerned, but registered DH and Julie talking about it. They were both looking at the blood and deciding whether it was cause for alarm or not. It never occurred to me that it could be rupture, but I realised that this is what they were thinking, after. They kept asking how I felt. I felt fine, but it made me realise just how far inside myself I had gone. DH asked a couple of times if I was asleep---far from it!
Just gone 10 p.m., the SHO confirmed what I already knew. I was complete. It was time to push.
Still the doctors tried to give me time constraints. I was told I had an hour to get the baby's head well down, after which they would call the consultant in. Again, this didn't even bother me. I asked for the lights to be dimmed as much as possible. The bed was raised, and I stood facing it, leaned onto it, eyes closed, with my TENS and gas and air in front of me on the bed.
There is no doubt I was reticent about pushing. I found it hard to switch from trying NOT to push to trying to push, and two other things held me back: First, everything I had read suggested that the most likely time I would rupture would be during second stage. Not necessarily, but the most likely. Secondly, my piles [hemorrhoids] were bad! They were bad before labour, and I knew they would only get worse. I had visions of them somehow splitting, and joining up with any tear to make the entire area an open wound. So my pushing started tentatively. I wanted a gentle birth anyway, so wasn't too worried. But as time went on, it became clear that I was going to have to do some work to help this baby out. In my head, I kept hearing "down and out, down and out" where earlier my mind had been saying, "thin and open, thin and open."
I began to get into it more, began to feel that shuddering power going through me. I can't say I really loved pushing, but it's certainly a very powerful, animal act. I was noisy; not screaming, but kind of bellowing, I suppose! My noises seemed to change at different points in the contraction and I got nothing but encouragement from Julie and DH...I also asked him to support my rear end with a flannel. This may seem odd, but it worked a dream. I wasn't so worried then about splitting and it really gave me something to push against. He said he was bracing against the bed and pushing against me really hard. It meant he was right behind me, really close, and it was fantastic. When Julie suggested I stop using gas and air, I thought, "What are you mad? I am totally relying on this!" but again she was spot on. I was sort of using it to ride and pant over the top of the contractions, rather than working with them to push the baby down. When I found the courage to let the mouthpiece go, I made much more progress.
The hour had passed and the doctors returned. Julie showed them that the baby's head was moving down well---she said she could see about a 50 pence size bit of the baby's head. The doctors went away, appeased...During the last 3/4 of an hour, I pushed well. I was dripping with sweat from the sheer exertion. My body shuddered. Another midwife joined us...she wiped my face with a flannel. The 3 of them gave me every encouragement. I was getting about 3 really great pushes from each contraction, but each time Julie kept saying, "Just one more!" But once the contraction was passing I just could not force another push out. I found it impossible to speak, so couldn't let them know this. I heard everything but couldn't answer.
The contractions seemed nicely spaced, with enough rest in between. I felt my baby's head moving down, well down, until it felt like it was sitting in my bottom. I knew we were so nearly there. Julie quickly grabbed gloves, made a kind of nest on the floor, and called the paediatrician, who waited outside. The resuscitaire was prepped. Julie had told us our baby would need some suctioning on the perineum because of all the meconium; they did not want her to take that sharp first intake of breath and aspirate it. Finally, I really felt my baby's head there. I remember thinking, "So THIS is crowning!" I was waiting for the 'ring of fire' to get worse, but it didn't. I felt everything stretching, as if I really would break, but managed to roar and push through it. It took a couple more pushes, and the head was out. Everyone said, "Look down! The head is here!" but I really could not look down. I was still focusing so hard on what I was doing. Julie asked that I push really really hard with the next contraction. I gave it everything, and her body was born. This felt a lot harder to me than the head to get out. I felt her shoulders coming. And, suddenly, our child was here. She was born.
DH told me she was a girl, and finally I could look. She looked like she was wearing desert camouflage; yellow, green, and brown all over. DH cut the cord. We had planned to wait until it stopped pulsating but we knew she needed attention. The paediatrician was still suctioning her and he quickly took her to the resuscitaire. For the first time, I could WALK over to be with her while this was done! I was able to watch everything that happened. I could stroke and comfort my child. I looked down at the floor and was shocked to see the state of my waters---I had always imagined that inside my uterus would be a clear, wonderful place to be. Instead it looked like a brown and red mess! They took a lot of brown gunk out of our daughter's nose, mouth, throat and stomach, but she was fine---Apgars of 7 then 9. She was my first baby born with dark hair. She was calm, awake, beautiful. As a compromise, I had agreed to the ergometrine injection. I knew the if I actually managed to achieve a vaginal birth, I wasn't going to care much how the placenta came. After a couple of pushes, it was here. For the first time, I had a good look at it.
Then Jenna Lily was in my arms.
I had a small second degree tear, which after some discussion we agreed to let heal naturally. I lost about 300 mls of blood, compared with 750 mls with my first caesarean. I felt wonderful. Completely elated, and without any of those revolting drugs pumping round my body. Jenna was weighed about an hour later, and despite having passed tons of meconium, she weighed 10 lbs. 2.5 oz, with a 36 cm head and is 54 cms long.
I spent the night gazing at her, totally unable to sleep, in awe of what we had done.
Syeda's Story (2 c/s for frank breech babies, VBA2C)
Kmom's Notes:
Birth Story
Monday night, my BH [contractions] changed character; I had 2 before bed that actually hurt a little, and I felt them in my back. I hopefully told my DH that we might be wakened by labor that night. I felt more contractions each time I woke for the bathroom, but woke in the morning still pregnant. Tuesday I was full of hope and energy. My kids were in preschool and daycare and I thought I could finish all those jobs that I needed to finish before going to the hospital. I was looking forward to the jihad (struggle) of real labor finally starting. My doula and I agreed that I would probably have the baby before Wednesday night. I accomplished a lot that day---3 loads of laundry, cleaned the kids' room, checked their bags...for their stay at Auntie's house, a big pile of yucky dishes cleaned....
Early...Wednesday morning, I [woke to finish folding the laundry]. I woke DH at dawn when it was time for the early-morning prayer, then I went back to sleep until the kids woke up. Sweet DH took the kids to work...all day as we were sure it couldn't be much longer. There was brownish goop on the t.p. all day and painful contractions in my back, but they never got regular or stronger. By late afternoon I was getting tired and discouraged. I tried nipple stimulation a couple of times. It really got the contractions going, and maybe 3 min. apart, as long as I kept it up. At that point I wasn't ready to do nipple stim until my labor became self-sustaining. I also wasn't ready to tolerate the moaning contractions nipple stim caused. I knew that if I had that kind of contractions without the nipple stim I could tolerate them, but the nipple stim was distracting to me. Also, I knew I had a NST the next morning and I really hoped to deliver before that.
Thursday morning a very, very tired me was still pregnant, still having painful irregular contractions, and feeling like time was running out. I considered myself officially 42 weeks. I wasn't really worried about the baby, I just wanted to pass my NST so I didn't have to think about the OB suggesting CS or induction, my greatest fears. DH and I want more children and I know it would be difficult, at least, to find a dr. who would attend VBA3C paid by Medicaid.
We 'passed' the NST but only after DH started talking to the baby. One of the reasons I picked this hospital was the newborn hearing test. Now the test was proved unnecessary because clearly baby could hear Baba just fine. How about that---not even born yet and Baba is already 'the sun and the moon' to this one too.
From curiosity I allowed an internal. She thought I was 2 cm and 90%, but admits she may have stretched me a little, without asking or explaining (1.5 to 2 cm). This must be why this was the MOST PAINFUL internal I have EVER had. I could kick myself for shouting OW instead of STOP, esp. after hearing, "I'm going to make sure you go into labor today." When the OB was finished I felt so violated and embarrassed to have let it happen. Thank God my DH had gone to the waiting room, no telling what he would have done. At home later, I wrote the ICAN support group online, thank you all very much for your support.
Later, Thursday afternoon I realized that I had been feeling pressure against the inside of my right hip. I assumed that it meant baby was malpresented, so I did some lunges hoping to knock baby loose. I waited until after Friday worship before I tried blue cohosh; guess what, no contractions. I quit the cohosh in the evening and the contractions stepped up to OOOOHHHH contractions. I suppose this change should have alerted me to impending birth, but it didn't occur to me at all. The contractions didn't feel any different. Early Saturday afternoon more cohosh, but no contractions. I took a nap late in the afternoon and slept through the next dose of cohosh. SURPRISE, the contractions returned. It never occurred to me that cohosh could stop my contractions. I must have had the dose wrong. DH called from work. Someone had given him tickets for the 7 p.m. Shriner's Circus. He and the boys would be home after. I told him to enjoy himself, knowing that if I needed him I could call his cell phone. I called my doula in the early evening and told her I was thinking of going to the hospital just to check and see if I had made any progress. She offered to give me a ride when she heard some of those contractions. I wanted to wait for DH and the boys to return. I still doubted that the baby was imminent. The boys returned around 9 p.m. I told DH I wanted to go get checked. I fully expected to return home later that night in spite of the contractions I was having, after all this had been going on for almost a week already.
We parked as close to the ER entrance as we could. OK, picture me, a 42 week/2 day Muslim woman, covered Saudi style. I wished I was more comfortable with Unassisted Childbirth, especially after 9/11. OK, prepare for the worst, but expect the best. At the desk I showed my tummy and was reminded which elevators to take to L&D. I looked at the wheel chairs as I walked past, thinking, "Oh, I don't need one of those." My labor seemed to be on hold at this point.
There were at least 4 nurses at the desk when we arrived at L&D. I told them I was in labor and I just wanted to check and see if I had made any progress. In triage, I answered "I don't know" to all the usual questions. "When did this start? How far apart are the contractions? Water broken yet?" After I had given my sample and changed to a hospital gown, the nurse checked me. "You seem to be about 6 or 7 cm." "YAAAAAH! This will be over soon." (Picture me dancing on the inside.) We settled into a nice room across from the OR. I didn't care, I knew I was going to deliver just fine. This was about 10 p.m.
I was hooked up to the monitor to give them their reassuring strip. I called my doula to let her know we were staying. Baby's [heart tones] were great but my contractions didn't show at all. I leaned back to relax...When my doula showed up I had been on the monitor for about 45 minutes and was ready for a bathroom trip. She got them to let me loose so we could try to speed up my contractions. Labor seemed to still be stalling. I think I wasn't quite settled in yet. She and I walked down the hall and back, hey, just in time to be monitored AGAaaaaaAIN. My bad luck, the only position they could get clear tones was laying down (protocol every 15 min). My good luck, the MW from my OB's office was on call. I really like her, she's very warm (guess whose b-day is the same as baby's).
We watched Saturday Night Live as I labored. My doula said she had never seen anyone as far along as I was and still laughing and joking. Whoever was closer (doula or DH) applied pressure to my back when a contraction started. I think I had been there 2 or 3 hours when I realized I was feeling pressure against my right hip again. I did lunges to swing the baby more to the left; it seemed the right thing to do. My OB, MW, and labor nurse were in and out, just watching.
Somewhere, I assume between 1 a.m. and 2 a.m., I was up trying to decide what I wanted to do next when I had a sudden urge to pee. When I wiped myself I saw lime green on the paper. I knew instantly my water had broken. I saw 'something' in the toilet when I stood up. "There's merconium," I told the collected crowd as I exited the bathroom. At 42 weeks 2 days I knew it was very possible, but I never really expected to see it and it scared me. The nurse did a test for amniotic fluid, of course it was positive. Nobody freaked out over the merconium, so I let it go.
My contractions picked up at this point. I became serious shortly thereafter. My memory of this part is very fractured. I am in the bathroom. "This is transition, right, it's almost over," my doula agrees with me. Walking from the bathroom I look at the TV as one of SNL's actors makes a joke; I laugh hysterically half-crying, thinking, "This is not THAT funny." I have to look away to stop laughing as I notice a contraction building. I try pushing in the bathroom without telling anyone, thinking, "Is it time to push yet?" I remember a contraction where I put my face to DH's chest and just scream until it is over.
"What do you want to do now?" the question comes through the air as I pace by the bed. I'm lost. "I don't know," I say. I walk, I squat, I search for what I need. I am back in bed, (monitoring?) I am on my left side having a contraction. Dh is pushing on my back and the doula is pushing down on my hip. DH's hand is in the wrong place. I reach to move it and my elbow connects with his head. "Sorry, move your hand HERE. Better." "Make du'aa (supplication), say "ya Allah," think of all the sins you're paying for, "ya Allah," "ya Allah," I breathe. I feel better.
MW says, "You're almost there but you're more dilated on the left than the right." A voice in my head says, "You heard her, roll over so you can dilate better on the other side," so I do. I hear her as if from far away, "You're 9.5 with a lip." I can see her hands 'down there' doing something. "Oh well, it doesn't hurt." I let it go.
3 a.m. Doula asks, "Why don't you try hands and knees?" It sounds good so I try. PAIN explodes in my rectum. I fall onto the bed on my side. "God it hurts," I think, then I'm pushing or trying to. A voice in my head is saying, "Don't take too long to push or you may run out of energy." I'm on my right side, someone lifts my leg. My legs are out straight, someone is holding the top one up. "This is not working, "I think, "What am I doing? There should be pressure on my feet." Between contractions I roll onto my back searching for somewhere to put my feet, something to push against. My feet are guided into the stirrups and one of the leg supports is in place. I'm trying to push; those #%$ stirrups are too far away. I try to escape over the head of the bed during the next contraction. I'm not really thinking, I'm just doing. MW's voice from so far away, "No, you have to come this way, towards the foot of the bed." My hands are pulled down to the handholds near the bottom of the bed; the other leg support is in place. This is what I was looking for. More disembodied words, "Curl in when you push. Yes, that's the way." Through a veil I hear how well I am doing. With the next contraction I move my feet to the near edge of the leg supports. I am 'squatting' on my back and PUSH, pulling with my hands. I feel it working. Doula takes my hand, "Here, feel the head." My hand is moved to this spongy, wet, hair covered thing coming out of me. "That's not what I thought it would feel like." Another contraction. I grab the handhold again and PUSH. I know I'm almost there.
3:17 a.m. PUSH, so slippery, oooohhh wow, the pressure is gone. I melt with relief. MW closely followed by DH announce, "It's a girl!" There's a baby on my tummy. "It's a girl?" I ask the air. I hadn't let myself think this one might be a girl, I've wanted one for so long.
My jihad complete, I want to move on to BF, but this new world is too interesting to Darling Daughter. The nurse takes her. MW suggests a push to deliver the placenta. I push; there is a big gush. "Well, that wasn't the placenta," I think. A few minutes later it plops out with a small push. I wait while the MW sews up my 2nd degree skid mark. The early hour catches up with me, I'm getting sleepy. DH asked, "What do you want to call her?" "Huda," I reply firmly. Huda, meaning guidance from Allah.
If you had asked me immediately after the birth if I wanted to do that again, I would have said NO! But by 2 weeks postpartum I was not only ready, but excited at the prospect, in spite of all the monitoring....
It was important to me to see how well my body could perform, given the chance. I've seen I'm not broken, and it's beautiful.
Pam K's Story (false gd diagnosis, induced for suspected macrosomia, c/s; postdates induction, c/s, home waterbirth VBA2C!)
Kmom's Notes: This is typical treatment for larger women in many ways. Because bigger moms do have slightly larger babies as a group (and obesity is a risk factor for really big babies), doctors often estimate that their babies are going to be huge. In the first story, the doctors kept raising the estimated birth weight; from 8 lbs., to 9 lbs., to 10 lbs., then to 11 lbs. They tried to talk her into an elective cesarean, but when she refused they induced for suspected macrosomia. As is so often the case, the induction ended in a cesarean, and the baby was not macrosomic after all.
Despite having a really wonderful OB for her second pregnancy, Pam ended up induced for post-dates with baby #2. Inductions of VBACs often end in cesarean, and hers did too. As she discusses below, she had a difficult experience with a nasty spinal headache afterwards.
With baby #3, Pam chose homebirth, with unofficial back-up from her wonderful OB. She became very proactive about nutrition, and she occasionally monitored her blood sugar to be sure it was still normal (it was). In this pregnancy she did not go "postdates" and feels that perhaps some nutritional changes were part of that, although we'll never know for sure. Pam went on to have a VBA2C at home, in the water! She chose a hands-and-knees position to push out her baby, which often is a good position for larger women.
Pam is a doula who works to help support other women in their births, and is also a member of ICAN, the International Cesarean Awareness Network. Choosing truly VBAC-supportive providers was a key part of her preparation for baby #3. Had she seen a traditional OB, she almost certainly would have been told she had no chance at a VBAC, between being supersized and her history of a "failed" trial of labor, possible GD status, borderline "big" babies, and tendency to go postdates. Yet she went on to have a wonderful VBA2C anyhow. It's important to remember that many women with one "failed" trial of labor do go on to have VBACs later on, and that women of all sizes can have VBACs.
Birth Story
Birth #1: My pregnancy as a whole was non-eventful until the end of
my sixth month when I "failed" the GTT and was labeled a gestational
diabetic. This of course skyrocketed me in to the high risk category and I spent
the remaining 3 months testing my blood levels four times a day and
following an eating program that controlled my supposed GD quite nicely.
(Subsequent review of my records revealed that I was indeed misdiagnosed. Also,
despite the fact that I informed anyone who walked into my room that I was GD,
my levels were never once tested over the entire time I was hospitalized.)
My OB practice was a two doctor partnership with a third back-up for emergency
or unusual situations. The primary OB, a woman, was very accepting of my desire
for a natural birth and though I know she did not agree with all my plans, did
not overtly discourage or sabotage me. However, At 38 weeks she informed me she
would be leaving town in two weeks for Easter and proceeded to do an
unauthorized membrane strip. I responded not at all--not even a cramp--but she
assured me I would deliver before she returned from her vacation. I made my next
appointment with her partner who was not nearly as encouraging as she was and
indeed seemed to be a bit hung up on my weight. However, my 39 week Bio Physical
Profile was perfect, I had dilated to 2 cm and there was no reason to hurry
things along.
At 40w6 day I had another BPP, again perfect, but this time
the perinatologist called my doctor and said I was "ready" as he
estimated the baby to be over 11 pounds. (This man never ever spoke to me face
to face. He would talk to my husband, to my doctor, and to the technician if no
one else was there--all in my presence, but never to me) Each week, the
estimated weight of the baby had crept up--at first it was "over 8 pounds
at term", then "over 9", "over 10". Over 11 made me a
bit nervous, and I agreed to an induction if my cervix had shown no signs of
progressing. Surprisingly (not) I was still at 2 cm, so after a great dinner, my
husband and I headed into the hospital the Thursday night before Easter for
Cervadil. My doctor (the male) showed up and offered me a cesarean because of my
size and GD diagnoses and estimated weight of baby. I was very surprised but
refused graciously. I did not see him again until my daughter was delivered.
Friday morning, 41 weeks pregnant, I truly believed I would have this baby with
no pain medication and be home in time for Easter dinner. The pitocin was
started several hours later than they had told me, but I did manage to have a
few mild contractions and had a fairly nice day visiting with out of town
friends and hanging with my husband. My doula was in and out, finishing up
errands so she would be available when I needed her. Finally, around 9 o'clock
Friday night, with no change whatsoever, the pit was discontinued. Of course, I
had not been fed all day and the nurses were not in the least bit concerned
about that, so our friends ordered me a pizza and shared some birthday cake from
my favorite bakery. I was then moved to a larger room. Sent everyone home around
11 or so , to rest up for phase two. I was awakened about midnight by a
resident who explained that my doctor had called from his car on the way home
from the theater (and wasn't he so considerate, thinking of me while he was out
on the town!) and suggested a Foley catheter to inflate my cervix. I agreed and
was thrilled to be at 4 cm on Saturday morning!
Saturday we started the pit again. Cranked it up pretty high throughout the
course of the day, but I tolerated contractions with ease. I did everything I
could think of to help such as walking (the miles I put on that telemetry
unit!!) nipple stimulation, even sucking my thumb. [Kmom note:
There may be an acupressure spot on the roof of the mouth; some theorize that
sucking the thumb can help stimulate labor sometimes.] Nothing seemed to
help. Of course, I was sneaking the occasional peanut butter cracker and juice
as I was NPO for the duration. [Kmom note: NPO is the abbreviation of the
Latin words for nothing by mouth.] This time, they did not turn of the
pitocin. We continued through the night and into Sunday--Easter Sunday when I
expected to be holding my baby at Easter Dinner. The most memorable moment to me
was receiving an Easter Lily from the Baptists women's guild. I was Catholic,
delivering at a Jewish hospital. I was quite amused by the blending of beliefs
and still have pictures of that beautiful lily.
Sunday I saw the back-up doctor for the first time. He suggested rupturing
membranes and I agreed. (In retrospect, I should have walked out days ago, but I
was naive.) He left, a resident did the deed and inserted internal monitors and
I stood up and had a real contraction--I actually had to stop and breathe! I
then proceeded to have what my doula described as "transition-like"
contractions for the next twelve hours. It was obvious the staff was tired of me
as they pretty much left us alone. I insisted on laboring in the shower,
complete with telemetry and birth ball. After 12 hours with ruptured membranes,
I was still at four cm and told I could either have my cesarean now or wait
another 12 hours but it was no longer an option. I looked around the room--at my
husband, so tired, so scared, yet so supportive, at my doula who had been with
me for four days with only brief breaks and who had given up her Easter with her
family for naught, at my mother who was due to leave for Florida within the
week--I gave up. I won't go into the circus that ensued over the next few hours
situating everything, but to illustrate the experience, my father showed up as I
was being wheeled into the OR and I truly believed I was going to die. My father
has a major aversion to hospitals and I honestly did not expect to see him until
I was home.
And so , I finally saw "my" doctor, in the operating room, as he
performed major abdominal surgery on a perfectly healthy mother and perfectly
healthy baby. Neither one of us had shown any signs of distress, despite my not
having had real food or drink for several days, despite the massive amounts of
pitocin dripped into me, despite ruptured membranes. My daughter was delivered,
by this man who was annoyed at his shortened lunch hour, while I lay on the
table unable to feel myself breathe. My memories of that morning are interwoven
with images of the Salem witch trials, where they would crush supposed witches
with large cinder blocks. She weighed 8 pounds, 15 ounces and had apgars of 9
and 10. He told me he had made the incision in a place that should not be
aggravated by my "flap" and apologized for the size of the incision as
he had anticipated a much larger baby. Then he was gone. He is still my mother's
GYN and still encourages me (through her) to plan elective cesareans each time I
am pregnant.
The story of my physical recovery is short, but the emotional healing has been
slow. Nearly five years later, as I anticipate the birth of my third child, I am
still haunted by those visions of being crushed while my child is cut from my
body. And that is how I remember the so-called birth of my first-born.
Birth #2: When my first child turned one year old, we decided it was time for our second and immediately conceived. I assumed I would have a natural birth this time, despite my prior cesarean, and found a caregiver who would support that. Dr. B was the ideal OB. He was a strong proponent of natural birth and truly supported me in every decision. My pregnancy was noneventful, except for the usual stressors of selling our house, quitting my job, buying a house, etc. Medically, things were perfect.
When it came time to test for Gestational Diabetes, Dr. B
examined my results from my first pregnancy, shared concern that I was
misdiagnosed, and asked if I would be willing to forgo the one hour GTT for the
three hour. Sure. Results were a bit odd, so I repeated it. All clear! One
possible risk factor eliminated! He did not consider my weight an issue, other
than contributing to my personal discomfort, and was even willing to allow me to
weigh myself at another place to minimize my binge triggers. He frequently
consulted with me concerning my pregnancy, making it clear he considered me a
partner in this, not a patient.
As the end of pregnancy approached, I chose to allow vaginal exams as I needed
some reassurance I was progressing. Imagine my thrill at 38 weeks when I was
dilated to 2 cm! Then two weeks later I was at 4!! That was as far as I had
progressed with my first four day induction. I began to believe I might really
do this. Dr. B discussed some natural methods of induction with me, emphasizing
it was totally up to me. I tried castor oil numerous times, intercourse, and
even the cohoshes at his suggestion. I experienced a few mild contractions and
some major diarrhea, but no real progress.
At 43 weeks, Dr. B asked me to have a Bio Physical Profile. He
assured me he would interpret the results himself, with me, and not let the
"expert" at the U/S center influence him. He was very aware of my
mistrust of that particular doctor. I agreed and we scheduled the BPP for
Thursday, January 28th. This was my husband's 32nd birthday, his goddaughter's
(who would be the godmother of our baby) 16th birthday, and ironically, Dr. B's
anniversary. I had hoped that our baby would be born on this day, keeping up the
family tradition.
My mom met us at the hospital for the U/S and we had our 21 month old daughter
with us as well. The technician was one I had met several times in different
capacities and was very comfortable with. There was no sign of Dr. S--my
nemesis. The baby looked wonderful and responded well, BUT my fluid levels were
virtually immeasurable and my placenta was rated as very deteriorated. OF
course, we all focused on the distressing news instead of the positive--the baby
was FINE!! So, a flurry of phone calls ensued and that was when we realized the
mistake in selecting that day for the U/S.
Dr. B was out of town and his back-up was less than
satisfactory. First, she refused to talk to me on the phone, instead sending
orders through various nurses and secretaries. My mother had left by this time,
and we were trying to deal with a toddler and figure out what we needed to do.
Finally, I managed to get through to the receptionist who apparently was as
annoyed as I was and had Dr. B call me on his cell--out of town, on his
anniversary. After discussing the situation with him, we decided it was not an
emergency, and I agreed to let his back-up examine me and agreed to an IV to see
if we could increase fluids. My largest concern was that his back-up did not
have privileges at the hospital I had chosen to birth at, due to a paperwork
mix-up. I simply prayed that I would not go into labor until he was back in town
that evening. By this time, my husband had left to take our daughter to his
mother's and I called my doula to be with me. I agreed to an oxytocin challenge
to see how my baby tolerated contractions, thinking perhaps I could actually
jump start labor that way and by this time, I was coherent and sure my baby was
fine. Interestingly enough, I did n ot even see my "doctor" until
after all the tests, IVs etc and even then she was abrupt and unfriendly. All
was well, so I dressed and left quickly, with instruction to call Dr B in the
morning.
Managed a few contractions that night, but in the morning called Dr B and agreed
that given the info at hand, we should probably induce. Dropped my daughter off,
had a quick lunch and went to the hospital. Spoke with Dr. B who then said,
"well, I'll stop by the desk and get things started and be back in a
bit." Shortly after that, another doctor walked into the room, said he was
there to get things started, proceeded to examine me and lecture me as to why I
should not consider a vaginal birth. I was apparently a bit irate, especially
when he reported I was at 1 cm and the nurse said "But Dr. B found her at
4." At that point, he stalked out of the room. Several minutes later he
came in with a very distraught head nurse who apologized. They were very busy
that day and she had handed him the wrong chart! I was not his patient. This was
not reassuring, but reminded me to be vigilant throughout this birth.
Shortly thereafter, we got the pitocin started and I began contracting. Within about 12 hours, I progressed to 7 cm. Twelve hours later, I was still at 7 cm. 3 hours after that, I was still at 7 cm. I had done everything I knew, with the help of my two doulas and my husband and my mother. I walked, I ate, I labored in the shower. Dr B was a great support--I found out later that he had to stay at the hospital throughout my entire labor as this particular hospital did not have residents or an OB on call at the time. He never gave any indication that he was impatient or would rather be doing anything except babysitting me for the weekend.
27 hours after my induction started, Dr B came in and asked if
we could discuss my options. He laid them out, simplest to most interventive.
Continue as we were and see what happened. Increase the pitocin. Consider an
epidural to see if that would relax me and allow me to dilate. Consider a
cesarean. I asked his opinion. He said, "I think you are headed down that
road." I looked around the room at my "support" team and
nobody met my eyes. Nobody told me I could do this, that I was fine and my baby
was fine. They had lost faith and so did I. I said "Let's do it" and
cried. Dr. B hugged me and said "Next time!" Everyone except my
husband left and I cried and cried. (He told me later that he was very surprised
I gave in. He did not expect that and had no idea I was so tired and discouraged
as I had been handling labor quite well. I wish he had told me that at the time.
It would have made all the difference.)
Preparing for the cesarean was a bit of an adventure. I had a great
anesthetist--2 in fact, but they had a terrible time getting the spinal placed.
(We had decided on a spinal as I reacted quite strongly to the epidural
previously.) Eventually, they got me numb, and at Dr. B's request allowed my
mother and both of my doulas in addition to my husband into the operating room.
My mother and husband were at my head on one side, my doulas had a front row
seat at the foot of my bed. I have to say that I was very disappointed with
their interest in the surgery as opposed to ME, but as a doula, I also
understand the unique opportunity they had. (In retrospect, I think one of the
biggest problems was that everyone kept thinking of me as a doula and not as a
laboring woman.)
The surgery was noneventful, the baby was easily delivered, screaming all the way and promptly peed on everyone and everything. I was able to see him briefly and DH went with him to the side of the room where the warmer was. My mom went back and forth, so I was left alone a bit more than I would have appreciated during the repair. Fortunately, Mary, one of the anesthetists, was super and made sure the have DH bring the baby over as soon as possible. She had him hold D up to my cheek and I was able to stroke and cuddle him while he was still a bit messy and fresh. He was perfect--weighed nine pounds even and showed no signs of postmaturity, despite a severely calcified placenta (I saw it--it was pretty bad!)
I was able to hold him on the way back to my room, but felt very woozy and out of it. In fact, once I was in the room, the nurses became very concerned and took the baby (who then pooped on everyone) and began working on me. I remember fading in and out and Mary apologizing as she inserted an IV without gloves on. Apparently my blood pressure dropped significantly and they were a mite worried. I recovered fairly quickly, and settled down to bond with my baby. DH called immediate family members, then I sent him home for sleep. D and I had a wonderful night napping and cuddling, and I swear he smiled at me. Interestingly enough, I didn't call anyone for several days. It was very difficult for me to integrate this birth.
I developed a spinal headache which was far worse than
anything I had ever experienced, and challenged our breastfeeding relationship,
but I had good nurses and a great lactation consultant so was able to work
through that. I also had my first experience with Therapeutic Touch, courtesy of
the hospital. I stayed longer this time, but once the headache was under
control, I was eager to get home and begin life as a mother of two. Recovery was
relatively easy, as with my first cesarean, though not something I would choose
to deal with when caring for a newborn and toddler.
In retrospect, this birth was much more difficult for me, because despite being
educated and prepared, I still allowed others to influence my decisions. I
cannot blame my choices on ignorance or naiveté. I simply relied on
people who did not see my needs, only strengths, and this was a fatal flaw. I
learned a lot over the next three years. After about 10 months, I discovered
ICAN online and have become very involved since. I have continued to search and
to learn and to grow and heal. Now, my son is three years old, I am nearing the
end of my third pregnancy, and I have realized the ultimate lesson for me: I
cannot birth in a hospital. I am planning a homebirth and hope to have a third,
triumphant story to share within a few months.
Birth #3: I was "officially" due on April 16. I began experiencing the dreaded nighttime prodromaling syndrome. I was fortunate that it was mild----starting around midnight and ending with sunrise. Each night was a bit more intense, and I was surprised at how much the contractions hurt. I had expected to sail through "natural labor" after my experience with Pit, so I was a bit humbled, but fortunately was able to readjust and soon began celebrating the fact that my body was working on its own!!
Monday night, April 22, the contractions were strong and frequent---I was in the birth tub humming through them. If I had been a first time mom, I would have been at the hospital!! In fact, the continued into the morning and we decided to take the kids up to my SIL as I was unable to focus with my 3 yo around (he really wanted into the tub with me). I called my friend Karen to come over as I did not feel comfortable being alone and sent DH off with the kids. Of course, things slowed down significantly once we did all that! My MW suggested I keep my OB appt. and agree to a vaginal exam so we could get an idea of progress. Karen and I went to lunch, the to the appt. while DH tried to get a half day of work. Contractions were about 10 minutes apart and manageable.
At the OB's I discovered I was leaking something. We still were uncertain as to whether it was amniotic fluid or simply very watery mucous. It smelled like birth and I was concerned that the OB would notice. Fortunately he did not. He was very excited about the condition of my cervix and offered to strip my membranes. I agreed and he immediately said I had progressed another cm. (to 3 cm). He told me to go home and keep contracting and that he would probably see me before my next appt.! Karen and I went to the pool and swam and walked a bit, then she headed home to be with her family and I went to bed.
Of course, laying down made it very difficult to deal with the contractions, so I popped in my imagery birthing tapes and was able to sleep a bit. Finally, around 10 p.m. I found myself bolting from the bed with a contraction, so I headed to the tub, then the shower. Soon I was needing someone with me, so called to my DH who was snoring away. He did not hear me and I was mighty PO'd. I managed to get myself out of the shower, to the toilet, and discovered a HUGE amount of mucous. I have NEVER seen such copious mucous and was a bit disconcerted. (Dh eventually was fishing it out of the birthing tub.) Finally got his attention and decided to call Karen back over. Moved back to the tub and continued to hum through the contractions. Shortly after Karen arrived, I decided it was time to call the MW as she was 2 hours away. Things got a bit hairy at this point because the MW did not think I could be very far along. It was a bit of a circus with my trying to tell her I really was progressing and then throwing the phone to DH during contractions. She finally suggested that we time the contractions for an hour---she wanted them 4 minutes apart and lasting a minute apiece.
I was royally pissed off as I thought one of the benefits of home birth was not having to deal with the numbers game, but did not know how to get my message across. Part of the problem was that we had anticipated DH being able to assess dilation a bit, but he was not experienced enough and I could not tolerate him hunting for my cervix at this point. Anyhow, I moved from the toilet to the tub again and we began timing. Within about 15 minutes I decided we had better prepare for transport as I was not going to have the baby without an attendant, so sent DH to wash the car seat cover (yes I was really prepared, LOL) and Karen continued to squeeze my hands as I moaned through the contractions----closer and closer together. Shortly after that, I threw up and announced I was in transition. Karen commented that I wasn't acting like it between contractions but I was certain and soon felt very pushy. The odd thing was that I was totally calm and collected between them and was reassuring both DH and Karen that I was fine. I remember Karen asking if I was pushing and telling her that I was not, but my body was a little bit.
I announced that we were to call the MW and if she was not coming, we were leaving. The good news was that she had left already. I was most definitely pushing involuntarily at this point and probably could have delivered if I was willing to work with the contractions, but I could not STAND the sensation that accompanied any attempt to push. It was the most intense tingle I have ever felt----very orgasmic and simply too much for me to cope with. I spent the next two hours panting through my contractions while laying on the bed.
The MW arrived, examined me, and told me I was 9 with a lip. (I believe I was complete earlier but lying down and panting had raised the lip.) She told me to start pushing and I refused. I did eventually try to push side lying but I hated it, especially when she tried to hold the lip back. I moved to the tub on a forward leaning kneeling position and this helped somewhat. I had a bulging bag that the MW said seemed to be interfering with my progress so I agreed she could rupture it. It was very difficult for me to allow her inside and it was very difficult to push through that tingling sensation. My one "complaint" is that she was not more verbally supportive. Instead she said things like, "Well, I just can't help you then," when I would tell her that I did not like having her fingers in me, etc. I understood she was trying to help, but it was so hard-----positive encouragement would have gone a long way! I eventually was able to give a few puny pushes and she noticed some meconium, so I upped the effort a bit. She also ruptured the bag, which I did not notice at all. (Later she said she had to really tear it---and the baby still brought it all out with her, even stripping the amnion from the cord----the kid was determined to be born in the caul!)
Finally I was able to push past the tingle and as soon as I felt pain--the ring of fire---there was no stopping me. THIS I was prepared for! I remember saying, "Oh, the ring of fire, I can do THIS!" and two pushes and she was out. It was so amazing to feel her crown and emerge, followed almost immediately by her body. Good thing she was small--I could not have stopped for anything.
MW brought her right up onto my back and checked her over to make sure she had not swallowed any meconium. She was so alert and peaceful---just looking around. I remember asking what we had, and DH saying nobody knew yet. I told him to LOOK! It was his baby! And he tearfully announced it was a girl. She was born 5:58 a.m. Wednesday, April 24th weighing 7 lbs. 14 oz.
She responded well (Apgars 9 and 10) and soon I was climbing out of the tub, with my baby still attached to the cord and the placenta still inside---too weird!! DH and I cuddled her on the bed for a bit, then I delivered the placenta. I really did not have any contractions, so that was a bit of an effort and I did actually lose a fair amount of blood (4 cups), so my midwife did give me a Pit injection as we had discussed in advance. I also did a lot of nipple stim. to help contract. After the Pit, I had some wonderful afterpains and fortunately, the bleeding stopped without having to transfer.
Approximately 2 hours later, DH cut the cord, I nursed, peed, and the MW finished the paperwork, the cleanup, fixed us breakfast. She and Karen let themselves out while we slept in our own bed with our new baby. I cannot imagine this birth happening any other way---I could never have done this at the hospital, even with my oh so supportive OB. I can honestly say I feel complete now. I have completed a chapter in my life. I am eager to see what is next for me, but am also very content to simply be for a while---a feeling I never had after my first two babies. I would do a few things differently next time, but would not change this birth for anything!
Michele S's Story (FTP c/s, "failed" TOL c/s, hospital VBA2C)
Kmom's Notes: This mom had a minor malposition with this baby; the baby had a hand up by her face. This probably accounts for the slow labor progress at first, the premature "transition-like" contractions, and the premature urge to push. Although the doctor had a legitimate concern about the baby's heartrate, breaking the mom's waters to put in an internal monitor may have cemented that compound position into place more thoroughly. The hand by the baby's face was probably also part of why this mother ended up with a 4th degree tear during the birth, although please note that even though it was no piece of cake, the recovery from the 4th degree tear was easier than her recoveries from her cesareans.
This mom had a hospital VBAC; it's good to remember that moms do have VBACs in hospitals too! It's also good to note that this very petite mom had a VBAC; many very short and/or petite women are told that they can't birth vaginally. Obviously, this mom proved them wrong!
Birth Story
A Brief History: My first daughter was born via emergency c/s...11 days before her due date. I went to the hospital way too early in labor. The OB broke my water at about 2 cm to "hurry things up." The contractions came one on top of the other and by 6 cm, I was involuntarily pushing. I got an epidural (which didn't take) and continued to push involuntarily. My cervix swelled at 7-8 cm and I was given an emergency c/s for FTP, [Failure to Progress].
My second daughter was a planned vbac, but I really didn't educate myself about it. I had a very unsupportive OB. After a week of prodromal labor, he coerced me into a scheduled c/s on a Friday evening. She was born via c/s, 11 days before her due date, just like her sister. She is the one I feel like really didn't get to choose her birthday.
Baby #3: With my third baby, I had contractions for the last month. On March 7, my birthday, right before I was to go out to dinner, I had a few contractions that really got my attention. I prayed that I would get through my birthday dinner. I had a couple more, but then they went away and I had a great birthday evening. I got hte same type of contractions starting at about 2 on Saturday afternoon, March 8. They were 10-15 minutes apart for the longest time. My DH had the girls outside playing, so I just walked in the house by myself and rested. I had planned to wait to go to the hospital until the last minute, so I knew I had a while to go yet. The contractions started getting a little more serious, so I got in the bathtub at about 4. It seemed to relax me. DH kept asking if I thought I should call my mom (she lives 50 minutes away). She was supposed to go to the hospital with us as support and my step dad was going to stay with my girls at my house. I didn't think things were close enough to call her. I finally called her at 6, when the contractions got a little closer together and asked her to stop and pick up some deli sandwiches on the way (I really wanted a BLT!!). I told her not to rush.
Pretty soon the contractions seemed really close together. I would just lean on the bathroom counter and rock or get on all fours on the bed and rock through contractions. The facing down and rocking, as well as vocalizing, were helping some. I was making a lot of deep groaning noises, and I think that was scaring DH a little. My mom was talking to him on the way to my house and I heard him say that the contractions were a minute or two apart. I denied that, saying that they were 4-5 minutes apart. I knew that they were lasting a minute or more each because I was timing their length. I got back into the bathtub. My mom told him to start timing them and he was right; they were about a minute or two apart and really strong. There was really not much time between them---seconds, maybe. I was starting to have a hard time staying on top of them. DH wanted me to get out of the tub and get dressed so we could go to the hospital when my mom got there, but I was having trouble getting out with so little time between contractions. I was sitting in the warm water with only candlelight, so it was pretty dark in there, but it was relaxing me as much as I could relax. I could tell DH was getting a little upset with me for not getting out, but I told him he would just have to give me a minute.
Pretty soon, my mom got there and I was just getting out. She was very calm, which was good for DH's nerves, I think. She helped me dry off a little and asked me where my pants were. I couldn't remember at first, but then remembered they were on the couch. She asked if there was anything she could do for me right that second and I said no. She went into the living room and greeted my girls, hugged and kissed them and acted like everything was pretty normal. She came back in the bathroom and helped me put on my pants between contractions. DH was loading the car with bag, pillows, etc. I walked into the dining room, kissed my 4 year old, and another contraction hit. I walked back into the bathroom because I didn't want my girls to see me like that. After that contraction, I went straight to the car and propped myself up on all fours against the pile of bags and pillows in the back seat, which was how I rode all the way to the hospital. DH fed me a couple of bites of my BLT between contractions. When we got to the hospital, it was about 8:15 p.m. DH went in, got me checked in and sent a nurse with a wheelchair. She was really great about letting me get through contractions as I got out of the car and she rushed me upstairs. I was leaning over my pillow through contractions. I think she thought the baby was coming any minute, and so did I.
Anyhow, I got settled in L&D. Another nurse, Judy, came in and asked if I was wanted my tubes tied this time. I told her I wasn't having another c/s and she said, "Does your doctor know that?" I said, "She's very aware of my plans." I moved to the bed. I had the back of the bed raised up with pillows stacked and was leaning on all fours again. Judy and I had a little tiff as she kept telling me I had to get on my back, and I told her that she was going to have to give me time and that I was not going to stay on my back. They insisted on the IV, which I tried to sign Against Medical Advice for. This was the only thing I felt like I had no control over and I got the IV. The nurse checked me and I was only dilated 3 cm. I couldn't believe it because the contractions had not slowed down and they were pretty much one on top of the other and lasting for 1-1.5 minutes.
They put the External Fetal Monitor (EFM) on, but I wouldn't stay still long enough for them to get a good reading. They were concerned about the readings they were getting, but since I wouldn't stay still, they couldn't get one that they were comfortable with. They put me on oxygen at that point. I was okay with that, thought I took it off when it got too annoying. My mom was sneaking me sips of water when the nurses would leave the room. She kept reminding me that my body was doing what it was supposed to do and that I was doing really great. It was very encouraging. I had told her to say that when I needed to hear it, but it didn't seem like she was "just saying it," ya know?
DH was spending a lot of his time trying to keep the IV comfortable for me since I kept messing it up by not staying still. They wound up blowing a vein and having to move it to the other hand. My doctor got there and was worried about not being able to get a good reading on the baby. She checked me and I was 5 cm and this was only a few minutes after I had been 3, so I was feeling a little better about my progress. She talked to me about breaking my water and using an internal monitor. I reminded her that she said she wouldn't break my water but she really insisted that she be able to make sure the baby was okay with the decel readings they had gotten. She promised it would allow me to move however I needed to, so I agreed. I was okay with it once I had more freedom to move (which I was doing anyway). The doctor left for a short period and when she came back in to check me, Judy tried to make me get on my back but my doctor said she would just check me on all fours, and she did, which I appreciated. I was at 7 cm. Soon after that I started involuntarily pushing, but I was only at 7-8 so they didn't want me to push. It was a flashback to my first daughter's birth. I asked for an epidural, hoping it would keep me from pushing. I was worried about my cervix swelling again. When the anesthesiologist came in, he asked the nurse why I was up on all fours like that. Nurse Judy said, "Because she likes to be like that." He started lecturing me about how he couldn't do this by himself and I was going to have to help him. My mom got annoyed and snapped at him, "This is her 3rd baby. Just tell her what you want her to do and she'll do it!"
So one epidural later, I was able to keep from pushing, even though I was still able to feel the contractions. They had the lights turned down low at my request, which made things much nicer and calmer for me. My OB told me to let her know when I felt like I needed to push again. When I did, I told her. They set the bed up so that I was sitting straight up (at my request). They put the stirrups on the bed, but told me to use them if I needed them for leverage. She checked me and I was almost 10 with a lip. She held the lip back and told me to push when I felt like it and the pushing began.
She said, "OK, 4'10", size 5 shoe----you're going to prove them all wrong! (She had a thing about small shoe = small pelvis). She had me tell her when I wanted to push, but she would encourage me to push again during the contraction, which I did. It felt right and I really didn't realize I was pushing as hard as I was. The OB was helping me stretch as I pushed (she doesn't do episiotomies). My mom and DH were right beside me. DH was in awed silence the entire time and my mom kept telling me how great I was doing. I could still feel the contractions and wasn't really numb, and I was glad the epidural wasn't keeping me from doing what I needed to. My mom pointed to the baby warmer (right by the bed) that the nurses had gotten ready and said, "Look, they've got that ready---they know you're going to do this!" That was sooooo encouraging! The OB exclaimed, "She's got black hair!" She then shone a light on a picture that was hanging on the wall to create a mirror so that I could see the baby crown. It was awesome!
I only pushed for 10 minutes and out came my daughter at 11:17 p.m. It was only 3 hours after we arrived at the hospital, and 43 minutes before her due date! I felt myself tear as she came out. Her cord was very short, which caused the placenta to pretty much come right out with her. They laid her up on my belly. It was truly the greatest moment of my life.
My mom and I were both emotional and DH was again in stunned silence. My mom got some great pictures of the whole thing on my digital camera---even the placenta!! DH cut the cord for one of his children for the first time out of 3 children. The OB said that she thought she was bigger than my other girls, though she was estimated by ultrasound to be about 6 lbs 1 oz. She wound up being 8 pounds 4 oz. and 20.5 inches long!! My biggest baby yet!
She wasn't breathing very well, so they took her to the nursery while I got stitched up. DH went with her and my mom stayed with me. I had 4th degree tears and getting stitched up was excruciating. My OB gave me 2 shots to numb me and they gave me Demerol in my IV, but it was awful. I couldn't keep my butt down on the table and I even grabbed the OB's hand once (which I really didn't mean to do). The OB was really excited that I had VBAC'd and even told me that she hadn't had much faith. I told her that I knew she didn't, but that I had enough faith for us all. My mom kept telling me over and over again how proud she was of me. I do kind of wish I hadn't pushed quite so hard because maybe I wouldn't have torn so badly, but who knows? I'd love to have one of those "I wasn't even sore" births.
They wound up putting my daughter in the NICU with an IV and oxygen and told me that they may have to keep her all night, but that I could go be with her. I kept trying to get up to go pee and go to NICU, but I was so nauseous that I couldn't stand up. I started praying that she would be okay enough to come be with me. An hour later, a physician's assistant came in and told me she was breathing fine now and they were getting ready to bring her to me. I was so relieved, and they were great about no bottles, no vitamin K shot, and no eye ointment. They wound up having to give me something for nausea and a catheter because I couldn't empty my bladder. I was so sore the next day I could barely walk, literally. Not only did I have the tears but she came out with her hand in front of her face, and the OB said that she was punching me in the rectum her whole way out----wasn't that sweet of her? This caused my whole bottom to be one giant bruise. That day was as bad pain-wise as my c/s but I didn't care. I was still so happy I had done it. The OB came to see me the next day and she seemed to feel just as victorious about it as I did. She told me that I had pushed with the power of 16 men and that if it had been anyone else but me, they wouldn't have had a VBA2C, but that my determination allowed me to do it. Nurse Judy even came down from L&D to see me!
I was very sore and swollen for over a week. My mom came up during the day and took care of us all. Now at 2.5 weeks postpartum, I am still a little sore but pretty close to being back to myself. My bleeding has almost stopped. I bled for 5-6 weeks after both of my c/s. Nursing is going great, too. DH is in awe of the whole birth and says it was the most amazing experience of his life. He even tells his friends how amazing it was and I'm grateful that it touched him in this way.
I'd like to end this by expressing this difference emotionally, spiritually, and mentally between my c/s and my VBAC. After each of my c/s, my first time alone was my first shower at home. I couldn't take a tub bath to relax as usual because my belly was all stapled up. During each of the showers, I cried about how my children had been born, how traumatic it seemed (especially #1), and how much pain I was in. After my VBAC, I relaxed in a hot bath (which felt good on my bottom) and cried for the joy I felt about my baby's birth in spite of the pain I was in. If the VBAC were to take as long to heal from as a c/s (which is not the case), I still would be in awe and full of joy over it.
Shannon's Story (home waterbirth VBA2C)
Kmom's Notes:
Birth Story
Cody took 2.5 years to come into our life and it was well worth the wait. I had plenty of time to get through many emotional barriers that I had from my two previous births. It was perfect timing (God's timing).
We started out going to a midwife at a birthing center but when we were 6 months along she announced that she was taking a medical leave and would not be attending the birth. She also did not know who would be replacing her. DH had not come to this prenatal visit so I came home and told him what was going on. I gave him all our options including that we could talk to other midwives about a homebirth. He said we could go talk to another midwife but he wasn't sure yet if he could do a homebirth. We chatted with a few over the phone and had an interview with one midwife. Now the waiting began while DH stewed over his thoughts. At the end of October we talked and he decided that he still wasn't sure about the homebirth but we could go ahead and plan one. So we chose a midwife and started seeing her for our prenatals.
I started seeing a psychologist to work through any last minute emotional barriers that might pop up. She helped me work through the couple of months of changing care providers. We did some relaxation techniques to help me through labor which helped a great deal.
Well we were nearing our due date and I was ready for this baby to arrive. On January 10th, we went shopping and on the way home I had an allergic reaction. I was worried that I might have to go to the hospital because of the reaction but my body was able to fight it off on its own. Contractions also started that night around 8 but petered out around 2 in the morning. This was DH's last night of work and he was worried about leaving me alone. But the contractions were not that bad so I told him to go. Throughout the next 3 days I had contractions off and on but nothing too serious. On Tuesday evening, things started to pick up around 10. I really thought this was it. I waited for a couple of hours and called one of my doulas to come over. She helped me work through the contractions. I had really not experienced contractions before so I had to get a handle on things and was able to do my focusing that I had practiced with the psychologist.
Things slowed down in the wee hours of the morning so I sent the doula home and I went to bed to get some rest. I had contractions throughout the day but went about my business and tried to ignore them. We sent the girls to a friend's house because I was having a hard time having them there. Wednesday night things picked up around the same time. This time I called my doula and another friend who was going to help out at the birth. I sat on the birth ball, got up and walked around, but things did not seem to be progressing. The contractions were very sporadic and were lasting only 45 seconds long. I was getting very discouraged and tired. At the urging of the doula I got into the tub to see if it would help pick things up but it started slowing down so around 4:30 I went them home again. I was very disappointed at this point. I thought for sure that I would have had the baby by then.
DH decided that he wanted to call the midwife because I was not sure whether I was having a slow leak. She came over at 12 p.m. on Wednesday. We decided at that point to have her check me to see if I had been making any progress. This was the first vaginal exam I had during this pregnancy. I was very worried that I would be only 2-3 cms. dilated because the contractions had been sporadic and were not lasting very long. We were all surprised to find out that I was a good 7 cm and she could stretch me to 8 cm. The midwife said, "Well, I guess I will be staying." We called back our two doulas and said it was time to have a baby. At 2 the pool was set up and I was able to get in. I was so relaxed in the pool that at times they made me get out because contractions would slow down. So for the next 3 hours I labored some in the tub, on the toilet, and just walked around the house. At around 5 p.m. the midwife asked if she could check me and I said that would be fine. I was at 8 cm when she checked so not much further than when she checked me the first time. This was very discouraging at this point. I know the midwife could tell that I was getting tired as it had been two days of contractions. We decided that I should go upstairs and try to rest. She came upstairs with me and tucked me into bed. While rubbing my back she told me how well I was doing and that if there was anything that I needed to work through I should take this time to rest and work through those last emotional issues. This was very special to me as I know I would not have received it if I had gone to a doctor.
I don't think I rested too much. Every time I lay down the contractions seemed to pick up and I couldn't deal with them when lying down. At about 6:30 p.m. I decided that I needed to get things going so we called the midwife back and I asked her to check me. She could stretch me to a 10 but my water was still intact. I asked her if she would break the water and she said if that is what I wanted she would do it.
The next day she came over to check us (after the birth) and she let me know that she had made a decision not to tell me that there had been a small amount of meconium in the water. She felt that it was such a small amount that it was nothing to worry about and chose not to tell us because she thought that I didn't need the extra worry. She felt afterward that she should tell me and she wanted to know if I felt she had made the right call. I believe that she made the right decision and have no hard feelings for her for making this decision.
Anyways, back to the story. My water was broken at 7 p.m. and things started to pick up after that. Contractions were lasting longer and I couldn't talk through them anymore. DH sat beside me at times holding my hand and letting me know that I was doing a great job. He did make a comment to everybody that he couldn't believe how well I was doing because when we had M I couldn't cope with the contractions at all and I was only 2 cms. The midwife and my doulas reprimanded him and said if he didn't watch out he was going to get kicked out. I felt like I was in my own little world but yet I knew when he made this comment and I knew when people left the room. This was a weird feeling for me.
Shortly after 9 p.m. it was time to push. Throughout this whole time the midwife would check his heartbeat and he did great all through the labor. I found the pushing to be very overpowering. My body just took over and I couldn't help but push with the contractions. When pushing started, DH chose to go watch as my son came out. The midwife kept her hand down at my vagina so I would have something to push against. At one point she got up and moved away and I was very distraught but she quickly came back. I told her I felt like it was tearing but she said that it was just the baby's head coming out and I wasn't tearing. I felt like I couldn't do it anymore and told them all that that was it, I wasn't pushing anymore. The midwife told me that it was too late and the baby was coming whether I wanted it to or not. I can't remember who told me that the head was out but they said, touch your baby. I shook my head and said no but the midwife grabbed my hand and had me touch Cody's head. I am so glad she did because it was a wonderful experience to feel his head. I felt that it really gave me a sense that, yes, I actually was birthing this baby.
When he was pulled up to my chest I think I was in shock. I just looked at him and he was so perfect. We rubbed his back as he wasn't breathing right away but it didn't take long for him to let out a cry. I put my head back on the pool, closed my eyes, and just held him, reveling in how good it felt to have my baby on my naked chest. It was truly the best feeling in the world. It is funny because I don't think I cried and I was sure that I would. But as I write this story and think about it now, I start to cry and cannot see the computer to type.
I got out of the pool and the first thing I said to the midwife is, "You are going to want me to lie down now, aren't you." (All through the pregnancy I hated lying on my back.) The midwife said, "I don't make you do anything you don't want to do." I lay down anyway because she wanted to check to see if I had any tears. DH held Cody for a long time and phoned people to let them know we had had the baby. Everybody just could not believe that we had had him at home. I sat on the couch just watching DH hold him and just could not believe that I actually had delivered him all on my own.
After resting for a bit and having something to eat, it was my turn to hold him. He latched on like a pro, another great experience as the other times I was so drugged up that I do not remember the first nursing experiences. There were so many things that made this birth an awesome experience but the last one that day was when everybody left and DH and I went upstairs to our bed and gazed at our son for the next hour or so until we decided that we should get some sleep because we may not get any for a very long time.
This was an incredible journey and it is not finished yet. It is just beginning and I can't wait to watch Cody reach all of his milestones.
Kirsten Taylor's Story (c/s for fetal distress; coerced c/s for post-dates and macrosomia, Home VBA2C)
Birth Story
Baby #1: [I had off and on prodromal labor for several days. Finally we went to the hospital, way too early.] While I was waiting to be admitted, I went to use the restroom. As I stood up, I felt a gush and new my water had broken. I went out and told Scott. Finally, they came to take us up to our room. Once in, I was strapped to the EFM, all my vitals were taken. I was only dilated to a 1-2 when I was checked; that really surprised me, but looking back, I went to the hospital WAY too early. In the video I am there smiling and laughing at times. Once we got in the room, my labor sort of slowed down significantly, but then things did pick up within an hour. I had NOT been a woman in active labor when I went to the hospital, oh well, hindsight.
The nurse said she felt hair, possibly dark but couldn't tell the color. We kept arguing how long did I have to keep this EFM on, they wanted it on for 15min. every 45 minutes. It was terrible. B/c of either my weight or baby's position, they could only pick up heart tones when I was on my back. I was having TERRIBLE back labor, and this was just the worst. I was also very frustrated, b/c I was trying to move with the contx, and every time I moved, more fluid was trickling down my leg. The nurse thought I was worried that I was losing so much, but NO! I was disgusted with the feeling like I was peeing myself every time I moved. It was embarrassing feeling and I was self conscious about pouring fluid everywhere. Silly, of course. So, I started getting into a more serious labor pattern, and the last time they checked me was around 8:10pm. I was at 4 cm. I was so frustrated that I was only that far along. I was sitting in a chair rocking back and forth, desperately needing counter-pressure on my back. I remember at one point Scott and my mom were talking and I interrupted them yelling, "Help, contx." Afterwards I apologized for yelling.
I guess it was around 9pm that Kelsey's heart rate started acting up. Things are all fuzzy after that point. They yelled at me to roll over, and I yelled back, "DEAR GOD! I'M HAVING A CONTX!!!" They were having a hard time getting Kelsey's heart to register. They told me they were having trouble with my baby. I got very nervous. They called the ob. At some point there was meconium staining, they said very thick green like pea soup. I know there was an argument about using the internal fetal monitor, we didn't want that at all cost, b/c it screws into the baby's head and sounded terrible. Scott was arguing with the OB, finally I said, Scott, it's okay, just let them. My baby's heart rate kept dropping down to around 40-50 bpm during contx, but it went back up in between contx. The last time I was checked was around 8:10pm I think. Soon after, the OB made the decision to go ahead with a cesarean.
I just remember everything around me fading until I could only see black, as if I was in a dark long tunnel. I was sort of blacking out; more emotionally than anything. I just felt it was all over. I was absolutely devastated. Part of me was so relieved that this pain was going to end soon; the contx and back labor. I then just absolutely HATED myself for thinking that; my nightmare was coming true! I just laid there memorizing the trip to the OR, so angry that my body was failing me. I didn't have the cesarean until 12:26pm. Looking back, I truly believe I was hitting transition when I was in the OR, not at all to the point of pushing, but maybe an 8 or 9. I will never know, of course, but I know I was nauseated and just feeling TERRIBLE. They tried for 30 minutes to give me an epidural. It was truly excruciating. I was in so much pain I thought I would vomit, and everyone was just busying themselves in the OR getting stuff ready. I kept asking if someone would just rub my back b/c of the terrible back labor. On top of everything else, I was freezing, so I was tense all over shivering. That made it worse. I remember the OB acknowledging me once, his warm hand on my arm, it was the best feeling. I thought I would DIE while I had to sit hunched forward for the epidural. The nurse kept getting short with me b/c she didn't think I was holding still; I was in labor. Something about the epidural was messing up, and making my thighs go crazy with pain, they were hitting some nerve. Finally, the anesth. said, we have been trying for almost 30 min, doc, do you want to use general?
I didn't even understand. I had been having oxygen, I thought I was just getting
more oxygen, but it was general. I just remember laying back with a mask on. Next thing I knew I woke up in a very dark place with a nurse busy
around me. I didn't get to see Kelsey for over an hour after she was born. She was born at 12:26pm on July 15. I didn't get to see her until
after 2am, so I didn't ever get to see her on her birthday. Scott went with her to the nursery, I was in recovery. It seemed as though there was
blood everywhere, I woke up to a very nice nurse who was wiping me down, cleaning me up. I was soo out-of-it feeling, I asked if I had had the
baby. Pathetically, I didn't even know. I was just in a dim room being cleaned up. Looking back, it probably wasn't even dim, that doesn't make
sense, it was probably my dazed state. She smiled and said yes, I had the
baby. I asked if it was a girl, she said yes. I asked if she was ok, she said yes, she was just down in the nursery with Scott getting cleaned up.
My own mother got to see my baby before I did. Scott didn't let her hold her though. He thought I should get to hold her first. I was so drugged when I finally did see her, it was just surreal. I just could only say how beautiful she was. Scott told me she had been hungry, she gave up and went to sleep before I got there. My first breastfeeding experience, I laid there passively while the nurse held up my breast and held her to it, trying to get her to suck. I couldn't even keep both eyes open as this went on. How dignified I felt.
Soon after I got home, I wrote an email to a friend of mine. I was still so uneducated about cesareans and what had gone on in my situation. Looking back, I am certain with the proper birth support, I could have birthed my daughter. I reread the email I sent to a friend occasionally. It is from a person who is filled with sadness and disappointment, and who wants desperately to believe what she has been told by the doctors. That is not the person I am now. I do not trust doctors now; I do not like them. Here is the email I sent describing my birth to my friend:
It is pretty hard to get around right now. I am not sure what Scott told you, but as for being in the hospital still, the main reason was because of the pain. Kelsey was already engaged when they performed the c section according to the doctor, so the he really had to tug to get her out of my pelvis. I had to be under general anesthetic. That, on top of just being in labor for about 24 hours and getting a c section was enough to cause me to be very sore. They have already removed the staples, now I just have stitches that will dissolve on their own.
Supposedly I will be feeling my old self (minus the new bowling ball weight boobs - haha) in about 2 weeks. I am very anxious to be able to walk around, hold my baby comfortably, stand up without a huge ordeal, lay down in bed in any comfortable position, be able to GET up from bed without my husband to help pull me up. I think they may have broken me!! This is just terrible!
As for Kelsey's complications, they were all immediate dangers that corrected themselves right after delivery. I think my being in labor for so long and her being positioned posterior (face up rather than face down) made for the distress and subsequent drop in heart rate. I was only vaguely aware of how serious the situation was while it was going on - due to the labor itself, my comprehension level was not at it's highest... But I am kinda glad of that. I panicked anyway when they said there was a problem, I don't know what I would have done had I known her heart rate had dropped to 49 bps, but I am certain it wouldn't have been beneficial to either of us. Her heart stabilized just fine after she was born. She also had swallowed very thick meconium - a lot of it according to the pediatrician, so they had to really suction her out well. It was so bad they were even flushing my uterus with water while she was still inside me to help prevent her ingesting even more, but after she was delivered and cleaned up, she was and is fine.
She is a beautiful, healthy girl. I couldn't be more in love with her. I am so glad she is here. I just can't wait until I can stand up straight and walk around holding her. I think it is just a matter of days away. I am still too weak to hold her while standing right now, but I definitely can while sitting. I can't even hold myself up all the way, and by nighttime each day, I am totally bent over and struggling to walk. Unfortunately, I have to take pain medication to help alleviate some of that - because I have to be able to move around in order to heal better... So I have to take the medication and it is slightly passed on to her when I breastfeed. I was devastated at that thought, but the doctor assured me that it will not have any negative effects on her, and that I must take it in order to heal and be able to provide for her. He says it is still better than formula feeding.
Anyway, I just thought i would write and let ya know that I am home and all is well. Now I just have to get over the initial panic of "Oh my god, I have a baby" and start living!!!
Baby #2: Unfortunately, my second daughter was also born via cesarean. I had a fairly pro-VBAC OB, perhaps the most open-minded in the area (the same as for my first daughter). When it got to the end, there were some due date issues, but the biggest issue was that my daughter measured over 10 lbs in a u/s. Even the technician who did the u/s said this was a VERY rough estimate, b/c she was hunched over inside me, making her abdomen seem larger, and they couldn't get another accurate measure; they needed to get a better estimate. But, the results were, she was measuring past 43 weeks and over 10 lbs.
I still planned on having a VBAC, but my OB called me following the results and told me of the dangers to myself and the baby. He said every day that went by was just putting her more and more at risk. Even though I knew he was wrong, I still succumbed to his scare tactics. I scheduled the cesarean for the next day. My husband had just taken my 16 month old daughter on a walk down the street when I got the call. I still remember the walk to catch up with them and tell them. I was sobbing and crying, I felt as though the world was ending. I had a good friend as my doula, and I knew it would disappoint her. I was scared even to tell her, b/c I was so disappointed in myself, I couldn't bear to have her disappointed in me, as well.
My doula came over and tried to pressured me to try herbal induction. I was so afraid that is what caused Kelsey to go into fetal distress that I had caused it myself messing with herbs. I refused, and she totally understood. She just knew how much I wanted a VBAC, but she also wanted me to know that I could cancel that c/s appt, or not show up. It was so difficult, b/c with all my being I didn't want a c/s. I had totally convinced myself that I was not going into labor b/c I was so afraid. Like the Birthing From Within talks about a mother threatened in the wild will stall labor to get to a safe place. I thought my fear of another cesarean caused me to NOT go into labor. I totally and completely blamed myself, and didn't know the way out. I thought there was just no other choice. I was so devastated. I regretted in the moment ever hiring my friend as a doula, only b/c I had to face her with the decision I made. At that time, I just wanted it to be about me and my husband.
I made the appt, and we went in the following morning. When they were prepping me for the surgery, there was a terrible nurse who was so callous and rough. She did not understand the big deal of a cesarean. She reassured me that it would be fine, but no, I didn't feel at all like it would. I just laid there going back and forth between visiting with my doula and husband, and crying and sobbing, I couldn't stop. The nurse thought I was hurting or scared. When she catheterized me, before anesthetic or anything (standard procedure that I later found out I could have changed) I still remember the pain. I felt as though she had ripped my urethra. I cried and cried, she said it shouldn't hurt. It did. What did she know? Finally my doula nicely told her off; that I was just crying b/c I was hoping for a VBAC and didn't want this.
At least I was able to walk into the OR. I felt like I recognized the doorway to it, I definitely recognized the freezing temperature of the room. I was SOOO scared of the anesthetic. That had been so traumatizing with Kelsey, they tried for 30 minutes to put the epidural catheter in my back, never succeeding. I was alone without support this time when I got my spinal. I was crying and nervous, no one seemed too concerned about it. They did try to reassure me some. When it did finally hit, I think I realized how tense I had been. I had not ever felt so relaxed. My husband came in, and I told him I wanted one of these to go. He thought I had been drugged, but no, I was just relaxed, and completely resigned to the surgery.
The OB and the anesthesiologist argued back and forth about what time this cesarean was supposed to start. I felt invisible. I was just an appt to them, but for me, this was terrible, tragic, and life-altering. I didn't really feel like it mattered whether they wanted to rip out my heart at 12noon or 12:30pm. The OB tried to get the anesthesiologist to allow my Doula to be there with me, but she said it was against hospital policy. At least the OB tried, he really argued with her over this. They all cracked a few jokes about my baby's size; the anesthesiologist, upon seeing my baby, said, "Dr. X, I sure hope you had your Wheaties today! You are sure going to need those Wheaties to help lift that huge baby out of there." I politely chuckled, and it was sort of funny, but inside, I was sooo sad. My OB said, "Please let this be a big baby. Please don't let me pull out a seven pound baby or mom is going to kill me." The anesthesiologist said he got his wish.
Olivia was screaming before they got her all the way out. She was pretty big, 9lbs 15oz, but NOT OVER 10 LBS like the U/S said; not even 10 lbs!! Ugh. Even if she had been, I could have had her naturally. The OB lifted her up for me to see, but all I saw was a foot. I tried to move the curtain so I could see, and they made a stink about me contaminating the field. Ugh. I had no idea; I just wanted to see my baby!!!
Olivia went directly with me into recovery. We were more knowledgeable and comfortable refusing the bath and everything so that I could have her immediately. The OB gave me a shot of morphine. I think as a result of it, I broke out into a terrible itching fit that was unlike anything I had experienced. It was just terrible. I itched over every ounce of my being! They offered a shot for that, but I was sooo paranoid about Olivia getting all these drugs, that I refused.
Olivia nursed like a pro from the start, and she showed no signs at all of breathing problems as a result of the cesarean. Nor did she show any post-maturity. She also had the worst acne I had seen. I was shocked when I saw her the first time, b/c she was all wrapped up in a blanket, only her little head showing, and it was SOO round and so covered in pimples. I just thought she really is Olivia with that big round o-shaped face. I thought she was just ADORABLE!! She was soo cute.
I did handle this cesarean much better physically. Even mentally at first. I was just so happy to have my baby, and she was such a peaceful, sweet baby. It took a while before the sadness and disappointment over the birth really set in. But it did come. I truly blamed my failed VBAC on my fear. I know from the Birthing From Within book that an animal who feels threatened will not go into labor until they find safety. I totally thought this was why my body failed go into labor. That which I feared the most ultimately caused me to NOT give birth vaginally. I don't know that I really feel that way now. I think there was something holding me back, but I also think if I had just given myself a few more days, it would have happened naturally.
Baby #3: Finally, here is my third daughter's birth story; my HBA2C.
My husband and I hadn't planned on having any more children, at least not for several years. It was a surprise the following October when I found out I was pregnant again. It was then that I became absolutely OBSESSED with everything VBAC. I was so saddened b/c all the doctors said there was ABSOLUTELY no way I was going to have a VBA2C. The hospital near where we now live wasn't set up in case of emergency, so I felt uncomfortable with homebirth. It was the women of ICAN who mentioned a home-away-from-homebirth, and my doula volunteered her home without me even asking. She said, "The doctors won't let you? Fine, come to my house. Have your baby there!"
After finding a midwife (I interviewed and hired the first one I met), I did plan and have a beautiful, empowering HBA2C at my doula's house. I am forever changed by the experience. It is so empowering, so amazing. I relive my daughter's birth in my head all the time. What a beautiful memory it is.
I was due on June 17, and my midwife was fairly nervous about continuing
on past 41 weeks. I thought we had some wiggle room, but in the end, she got pretty uptight. She had told me that come Friday, June 27, she would
want me to contact my former OB and she would discontinue my care. I was absolutely SHOCKED. I thought we would discuss
things at that point, not just be let go. Well, she called me to apologize; she said she didn't
mean there was nothing we could do between now and then. She urged me to let her try to strip my membranes. I did so, and ended up down a crazy
path of trying to get my body to go into labor. I did want to trust my body to go into labor naturally, when it was ready, but I felt cornered
and desperate. She did end up giving me until Monday, which was all the time I would need. With her support, as well as my
doula's, I tried all the subtle and not-so-subtle induction alternatives we could think
of: miles and miles of walking every day, acupuncture, chiropractic, herbal, homeopathic, so much sex that even my husband wanted a break (and
wa-a-a-ay more than any pregnant-and-due-any-minute woman would EVER want!!! haha) and finally two days of castor oil. I had had steady BH
contractions on and off for days. The induction stuff did seem to pick things up, but it would always taper off.
Then, Friday, my body just STOPPED!! I had 3 contx all day. Well, Friday night, as I was lying down with my older two daughters putting them to
bed around 10pm, things started again. I was having strong but totally manageable contx that were
really felt in my back. I FINALLY got my girls to sleep, then went and told my husband. I asked, just in case, what was
the alternative plan to take my MIL to the airport the following day if we were busy having our baby... They were shrugging it off, saying it
wasn't an issue, but I persisted. I somehow just felt different this time--though I honestly
had thought this earlier in the week, too, so they didn't take me too
seriously. Anyway, they finally said my MIL would just have to change her flight if
that happened.
Well, the contx. quickly picked up, and by 11:20pm, they were about 2-4 minutes apart, lasting for 30-45 seconds, and I was needing my husband to apply counter-pressure to my back. During one contx felt a pop inside, and thought maybe the baby had her head caught in my pelvis oddly and that it rotated - nope, I took one step and had a small gush of water. I had been nagging at my husband that this was definitely it, and we needed to go to the grocery store as we were supposed to provide snacks for everyone at the birth (midwives, doula, ourselves, etc.) He thought I was insane to even want to go to the store, b/c the contx were strong enough that I was totally needing counter pressure, and not really in a condition to go shopping. I was just worried that the midwife and everyone would just starve to death if this labor took too long. Once my water broke, I swore it was green with meconium, and I got slightly hysterical for a few minutes - I knew that was a risk with some of the induction stuff, and was why my first daughter was c-sectioned to begin with, so I just KNEW it was meconium and that we were doomed. My husband called our doula, and I demanded that we were on our way b/c I wanted the baby's heart rate checked ASAP... The idea of shopping at the grocery store went out the window with my water breaking. At least I had sense enough then! Well, I had a few more gushes of amniotic fluid that were clear as can be, so I calmed down. But, we were NOT going to the grocery store as my contx were picking up and I didn't want to be any further in labor as we drove for 30 minutes to my doula's house. The drive was surprisingly manageable, but not at all pleasant. They were doing road construction, and it was SO bumpy down the usually smooth highway. I remember thinking how thoughtful of them to tear up the highway right before I went into labor. haha. My contx started coming at 2-3 minutes apart and lasting for about 50 seconds. Once I got to our doula's, they quickly settled into 2 minutes apart and lasting for 1 minute. The doula called the midwife as soon as we arrived, and she came soon after.
I was so frustrated b/c I had had a recent u/s that said the baby was in the perfect position, yet I was still having terrible back labor. I just couldn't get strong enough counter-pressure. I began to get very frustrated with how quickly the contx were coming. I complained once that I thought I was supposed to get a break to rest in between. I had been standing and bending over the bed and rocking and swaying to handle the contx. I was sooo tired, I was worried that this was going to be a 36 hour labor like this. I also laid in bed some, on my side, and enjoyed the ability to rest in between, but was not as successful at managing the contx in bed. My husband suggested that I try standing with one leg on a step stool, b/c he remembered from Bradley classes that it could help turn a malpositioned baby. I told him no, then my midwife told me I should do it, so I did (which he later chuckled that it irked him a bit that I listened to her and not him).
I desperately wanted to get into the birth tub we had rented and had set up, but the midwife wanted to make sure I was in very active labor (around a 7 dilation; I didn't know this was her policy before we decided to rent the tub.. grrr) before letting me. I started wanting to find out how far along I was soon after that, b/c the water sounded GREAT!! Finally, around 4am I demanded that the midwife check me, and she did, warning me that she really didn't want to with my water broken. I insisted, thinking I would hear that I was at a 7 or 8 and it would help me continue. She checked and I was at a 4. She was thrilled, she said my cervix was completely melting away and had thinned out. I was devastated, and started to get really upset again, that a 4 just wasn't enough. I had reached a 5 when I was last checked with my first daughter, so I felt I was so far from that, I really wanted to hear that I had made it past that critical mark this time. I knew this was going to take at least 6 more hours according to the traditional 1 cm an hour estimate. She tried to reassure me that this was AWESOME progress.
About 20 minutes later, I suddenly felt the baby had turned (still using the stool for one leg to help the baby be able to turn). The contx suddenly left my back and were full strength in my abdomen and cervix. I was happy, until I realized that there was NO counter-pressure that could take this away - they just were STRONG. I was noticing that I was more able to stay on top of them and moan and breath through them. Then I needed to go pee, and had a bad contx while sitting down, then two more suddenly when I stood up. I suddenly heard and felt my body shift and just start the most primal, guttural sound as I grunted and began pushing. I literally get chills thinking again at how amazing that felt.
I have heard that pushing is SUCH a relief, and oh my GOSH was it!! I yelled, "I'm pushing, the baby is COMING!" as I felt her just descend straight through my pelvis. The bulge and pressure on my whole bottom end was SURREAL!! (This is the first time I EVER got this far in labor!!!) My midwife jumped up (she had been resting in a walk-in closet while my husband and doula helped me and with a VERY panicked voice said, "Kirsten, STOP PUSHING!!! Do you hear me!! STOP!!" I told her through the grunts that I couldn't - they were all blowing "sho-sho-sho" noises in my face and grabbing me by the shoulders telling me NOT to push. I was trying, and copying their breathing but simply COULDN'T stop!!! My midwife called her back-up and said to get here NOW, I wanted to push. Then I lay down and yelled at her to check me.
The walk over to the bed was HELL b/c I was literally pushing this baby out and they were all yelling at me to stop!! She was trying to explain that if I pushed through a not fully dilated cervix it would cause it to swell. I knew this, but KNEW there was no cervix in the way, not with this feeling. She quickly checked, then calmly with a surprised look said, "You're complete. We're going to have this baby now." She stayed right with me, but called the back-up again and said, "She is having the baby, get here now."
I'm not sure how many pushes it took, but I laid there on my side with my husband spooning behind me and holding one leg, and my midwife ready to catch and trying to apply counter-pressure to my perineum. At one point, I know now it was when the baby was crowning, I thought she was doing something, and I started screaming at her, "Your hurting me, your hurting me!!" My doula said, no, it's the baby, she's not touching you. I pushed again and the head was out. The midwife started urging me to quickly push more, to get the shoulders out. It was NO problem. I pushed again and out she came!!!!
They immediately moved her onto my belly and I started BAWLING, "Oh my g*d I did it!! We really did it!!! Oh, HELLO beautiful baby!!!" Then I tried to calm myself down, b/c I remembered I really wanted to welcome her into a quiet peaceful place - oh well... haha She didn't cry immediately, she just laid there looking around, and I kept asking if she was okay. I told her, "I don't WANT you to have to cry, but it is sort of my indication that you are okay." She started squeaking a bit, so I calmed down.. Everyone was assuring me that she was WONDERFUL!!! She was sooo tiny to me. I was thrilled with that b/c the midwives kept telling me she was really getting big - probably over 9 lbs. I lifted my bra and she immediately opened her eyes and her mouth and started rooting around; that was also amazing!! SOOO ALERT!! She started nursing immediately!!! IT was soo great!!
While I was trying to breastfeed Maya, I was having bad contractions trying to deliver the placenta. It was so painful; I had to have my husband hold Maya while I tried to deliver the placenta. I tried several times to push it out, but it wasn't working. Finally, I rolled over onto all fours and pushed and out it came. I laid back down as they weighed Maya and did the standard apgar tests, etc. I began shaking like crazy; I could not get warm and was just shivering like I never did before. The midwife said this was normal following labor. They covered me with blankets and watched me for a while. They were a little concerned that I was losing too much blood. The midwife massaged my stomach to help my uterus clamp down. It was so painful. I was feeling very light-headed. The back-up midwife was talking to me face to face telling me to stay with her. Finally, I started calming down and feeling more under control. Once I started feeling stronger again, I took Maya back and sat up and breastfed her. It was amazing to just give birth and sit up so soon afterwards feeling so wonderful and energetic and feed her. I loved being an active participant in the whole experience!
The worst part of the whole VBAC experience was being sewn up following the 2nd degree tear. It was stressful and excruciatingly painful. My back-up midwife sewed me up and kept apologizing for hurting me. They did use local anesthetic, but in places it didn't seem to work well at all. It was MISERABLE. Finally, they gave me another anesthetic injection that seemed to help. My midwife was SOOO slow at sewing me up. She apologized but said she hadn't done this a whole lot and was slow and meticulous about it. I just wanted it to be done so I could have my baby back! My husband held Maya and began calling our family while they began the stitching. It was such a bizarre experience; I screamed and tried to hold still while they carefully stitched me up. I was also an emotional mess; it was a wonderful feeling. I had such a flood of thoughts in my brain. I was laughing, crying, then laughing again. I was laughing about how quickly everything went, and how they all scrambled when I began pushing. How amazing the experience was. Then I thanked them all so much for everything they did to help us achieve this HBA2C. Then I became SOOO sad when I thought of a woman I had read about in ICAN who was so strong, so persistent, and amazing in her strength and determination to have a VBAC, but ultimately ended up with a repeat cesarean. After just experiencing the VBA2C myself, my heart just hurt for her. I wanted her to have this experience so much. Then I became sad when I thought about how hard I fought for this experience, and what it meant to me. I was sad because if I tell someone that I had a HBA2C, most people will NEVER know or understand what that means to me personally, how hard I struggled, or what an AMAZING experience it was. They will just take it for granted and probably wonder why I would even do something like that. I was not sad about them not understanding me so much as I was sad that they would never have such an emotionally charged and amazing birth experience that I had.
Anyway, it felt like forever while they stitched me up, then they finally finished and my doula helped me shower and clean up. I had such a heavy, hollow empty feeling in my stomach. It was so weird feeling. It felt so soft again, after feeling so hard and full with my baby inside. I started feeling a little weak and clumsy in the shower, so I finished quickly and went to sit back down.
Everyone left and gave me and my husband some time alone with our new daughter. My husband was absolutely exhausted, so he fell asleep very quickly, snoring very loudly. I finished the oatmeal my doula had prepared for me, stared in amazement at my new little daughter, and called my family to tell them all the wonderful news. I was so proud of my daughter's beautiful round head. My mother had actually told me that if I had to have a cesarean, one good thing would be that my baby would have a beautiful round head, rather than a cone head; as if that even mattered to me. I was quietly proud that my daughter had this so-called perfect head even in SPITE of the VBAC, though I would have been thrilled if it was as pointy and long as anything!!!
After it was all over, I started thinking; oh my gosh, everyone cried when Maya was born but me! I specifically remembered my husband, midwife, doula all crying. I was horrified (as if it would have mattered anyway) that I DIDN'T cry!! The first thing I wanted to do when my husband, baby and I were alone was watch the video of the birth. My husband got out the camera and we watched it through the little screen; I thought it was hilarious---I was sobbing like CRAZY, saying, "Oh my god, you're so beautiful!! We did it!! We really did it!! Oh my god, you're here!" I most certainly DID cry; again, not that it mattered, it was just funny. When I told my midwife, she was SHOCKED that I had already watched the birth video. She said some of her clients could NOT watch the video for weeks, and here I was watching it a few hours later (and again when I got home that day). I didn't realize that might have been an issue for others, for me, it was such a beautiful thing to see; all the months and even years of stress building to that one beautiful scene!
We stayed at my doula's house and rested for a few hours. Her 3 year old daughter and roommate came by to see our baby. I apologized to the roommate, smiling, for all the noise I had made while giving birth. The woman said she didn't hear a thing, just woke up this morning to the amazing news that a new life had been born in her home last night. She was so happy for us. The midwives came in to tell us goodbye. They would come the following day for a check-up at our house. My awesome doula and her husband threw all our messy clothes into the laundry. They busied themselves cleaning up the birth mess around us; sheets, plastic tarps on the floor, draining the unused birth tub.
Anyway, Maya Abigayle Taylor was born Saturday, June 28, 2003 at 4:48am. She weighed 8lbs 2oz, was 20 inches long, with a 14 inch head. She is SOO beautiful and wonderful!! She is nursing like a pro. I had a 2nd degree tear, but was sewn up with little problem compared to any cesarean pain I experienced with my other daughters.
I was in labor from 10:30pm-4:48am. I went from a 4 to pushing in 20 or so minutes then pushed for 12 Minutes (well, tried to NOT push for about 6 minutes, then freely pushed for 6. My back-up midwife and friend who was to film the birth didn't make it in time (luckily my awesome doula grabbed the camera and got the pushing, so that was good). My midwife was SOOO shocked at how quickly it went. She was planning on calling the back-up around 6am, then figured I would have the baby around 10am - Maya had other plans.
My husband and I came home around 12:30pm. I was SOO high on adrenaline; I could NOT sleep all day, as hard as I tried. So I was up for over 24 hours.. Pretty delirious but THRILLED by that night. It was amazing to introduce our new daughter to her older sisters. They were so excited to meet her. My older daughter kept asking what the stuff on Maya's head was. We explained that it was some dried blood b/c we had not yet given Maya a bath from when she was born. Kelsey said she wanted to hold Maya, but only after we gave her a bath to wash off the blood. It was soo cute. Olivia pointed out all Maya's features and proceeded to kiss her. They both brought her all the toys they could find; too cute. Wonderful Maya slept beside me and slept great so I was able to rest. It is so amazing to be able to get around as well as I am (as opposed to with c/s), though I am still sore, naturally. My MIL took a flight out first thing the next morning. I think she was irked at our homebirth (we told her afterwards) but I don't really care. I did what was right. My family was THRILLED for me - though they all think I am insane. A title I wear proudly.. hahaha.
Chel's Story (2 VBA2Cs, 1 in hospital, 1 home waterbirth)
Kmom's Notes:
Birth Story
My quick history [is that] I have 3 other sons. The first 2 were c/s for FTP, my 3rd son was a hospital VBAC and now a homebirth VBAC [with #4]. It was incredibly awesome and I can honestly say that there isn't anything I'd change about this birth----not ONE single thing! Here is my birth story---which I am still in awe of!
My contractions started around 8:45 p.m. Wednesday night. They were about 10-15 minutes apart but I wasn't sure they were the "real thing" because I'd already had a couple of false alarms. They were pretty much only in my stomach but fairly intense. I went to bed around 10 to try to rest in case it was really time. They hurt worse and I couldn't sleep but rested for a short bit. I then decided that my husband should start setting the tub up, just in case! Sadly, we had not done a "dry run" and the tub would not fit in the bedroom so we had to move it to the living room (insert cussing husband here!).
We called the midwife around this time to just put her on "alert." She didn't seem too convinced that this was the real thing; she had seen me on Monday and her gut told her it would be a week or so (not that she claims to be right all the time!). Anyways, by 1 a.m. the contractions had jumped to about every 5 minutes apart, then suddenly to every two. At 2 a.m. I felt like I was losing some control as they seemed REALLY intense but only in the lower part of my belly. I wanted the midwife here so my husband called her. She asked for timing----being the man that he is he told her they were every 2 minutes or so, which was correct. But he told her they were only lasting 30 seconds or so. She told him that she thought it might still be early yet but she would be on her way as soon as she was dressed. We also called our support person who was going to be helping with our kids and anything else we needed. Both arrived right around 2:30 and during that half hour my husband had been trying to set the tub up but I needed him desperately during each contraction. He was pushing on my back while I leaned on the couch or kitchen chair. As soon as my midwife got there she was quite impressed with how things looked and she and the doula got busy setting the tub up. I was filling and I asked to get in. I had to wait about 15 minutes because it was just too hot!
I was feeling out of control and when I stepped into the tub-----OMIGOSH!! It was awesome. The pain does not disappear but it takes the edge off and allowed me to regroup. My midwife asked to check me to see how far along I was. I was hesitant because the numbers always defeated me in the past but I trusted her. (I learned later that the moment I sat down quite a bit of blood spread through the water and she wanted to be sure that all was well.) She got a huge smile and told me that I was a 6, she could stretch me to a 7, head was very low and I had a bulging bag of water. I was shocked that I was so far along but knew we had some more work to do.
I labored on my back, sort of floating in the water. They periodically added a warm pot of water and I'd move to that spot every time! I tried on my hands and knees a few times but that just didn't feel good; it wasn't enough support on my belly which is where I was feeling the contractions. I started to push---well, my body did, I was not trying to at all. I was concerned that I should be [pushing] and my midwife smiled and said, "Don't worry, if your body is sneaking them in, it knows what it's doing." She is so awesome.
I remember feeling a bit panicky as I suddenly felt that incredibly strong and painful urge to push and poop at the same time. I was sure my butt was about to explode! I then felt a pop which was my water breaking--that was at 4:08 a.m. I looked at her and said, "I feel like I'm going to poop" and got another smile! The very next contraction I looked at her and said, "It's coming out." She told me to flip over. His head was partway out and she told the doula to get our other boys so they could see. I had 3 more contractions and pushed him out. I felt EVERY single part of it; I felt his nose, head, and body slide right out. I couldn't see anything at all but the feelings I got to experience was just amazing. I can't even explain the euphoria I felt when I knew he was out. I was "with it" and knew what was happening, which was so different from all my other births.
My son came out with the cord wrapped very tightly around his neck; he was very floppy. She laid him on my back, had to deep suction him, and he finally started to pink up and cry. (I knew none of this until much later.) I then flipped over, he was laid on my chest and I got to see that another beautiful baby boy had joined our family. We sat there for about 30 minutes. I had NEVER seen a cord before and was fascinated that he was attached to his and on my chest.
I passed a blood clot and a few minutes later said "Ewwww" as a funny feeling thing came out (we thought it was another blood clot). My midwife asked if I was feeling crampy or anything but I wasn't. I then moved my leg and felt something and my placenta had already been delivered!! She was surprised as it was SO easy and unnoticeable! We sat there for just a few more minutes and then Daddy got to hold him while I sat up in the water and ate a little. Then we passed baby to the doula and my husband and midwife helped me out into bed, and there I stayed.
My son and I were reunited, husband and I sat and talked for a bit while midwife stayed with me. My doula busted her butt getting my house back in order---totally blew us all away. 2 hours after the birth, no one would have guessed we'd had a homebirth.
I feel awesome. My hemorrhoids are the only thing that give it away that I even had a baby. Well, except for my jello belly and beautiful son! He was 7 lbs. 2 ounces and about 19.5 inches. He is a wonderful addition to our family and I just can't believe I did a homebirth and that it was as awesome as it was!!
Amy C's Story (c/s for placenta previa; c/s for twins; VBA2C)
Birth Story
Here's my birth history leading up to the VBAC: c/s for placenta previa with Lyndsay at 37 weeks-7.5 lbs baby (12-31-97-what a
great b-day!!). I was told when my staples came out that I could VBAC the next baby. Then we conceived twins and I didn't know any better
than to schedule a c/s-again at 37 weeks. (Mallory-6lbs 10 oz and Chelsea-6 lbs 8 oz on 9-8-00) Now the rest of the story.
With this pregnancy, we started down the same road as the others but early on my husband and I started asking and thinking about a VBAC. I
started talking with people and reading. I talked to a homebirth midwife early on who suggested finding an ICAN group. (That's how I
found this group.) We were not comfortable with homebirth so we kept talking with our
OB (I'd been with her for 7 years). She agreed to the VBAC but every appointment when I'd talk about it with her she kept
adding things to the list like I'd have to deliver by 41 weeks, internal monitoring, etc. We weren't really comfortable with what she was saying
would happen but we didn't know what else to do.
In January (my due date was May), I went to a local ICAN meeting to hear an OB discuss hospital VBAC. At the meeting I met several doulas and
midwives and also learned some things from the doctor. Then we started interviewing doulas and we went to see the doctor who had spoken at
ICAN. We wanted to see if he'd take me as a patient. He said many of
the things that we wanted to hear, including that he did not normally use a backup doctor. He did warn us that he would be unavailable the
weekend of May 17-18 and would have someone covering for him but he said,
"You'll have the baby before then." So, after hearing from our original OB
that 2 of her 4 backups would not do a VBAC, we decided that we needed to change. I was about 33 weeks at the time. And we finally
hired a doula.
The pregnancy was going really well. I did test positive for strep B but my doula found some natural treatments online that I did.
Everything was going well and then I went past my due date. The doctor was fine with it but I found it amazing the number of people (including
complete strangers) who would ask me if I was going to be induced on my due date. The next week (May 9th) at my appointment he asked if I'd
come a day early the next week so I could get a NST and we could make some decisions. He mentioned that he'd gotten a young female doctor to
cover for him on the weekend that he'd be gone. I asked him if he'd talked with her about me and he said,
"No-you were supposed to have already had this baby."
On Friday night, at a Mexican food restaurant, after a long Walmart trip with 3 children that morning, I finally started having some
contractions. I'd been having some menstrual cramp feelings on and off for a week or so before that. And I'd started walking every night after
dinner. (I was beginning to try all the things people recommend to get labor going.) The contractions continued on and off through the weekend
but they'd peter out after awhile. On Sunday (Mother's Day), some friends brought me Chinese food because that always put his wife in to
labor. It was delicious, but it didn't help me.
On Monday, I called the backup doctor's office to make an appointment to meet her and discuss my birth plan while I was in the building on that
Wednesday. Did I mention that the new doctor was a 45 minute drive instead of 10? Her office called back on Tuesday morning to tell me
that "Dr. N--- doesn't do VBACs." Yes, I started to panic a little at this point. I knew that we'd come too far to give up at this point.
So on Tuesday afternoon a wonderful friend (mother of 10-8 of those born at home) picked up my 3 children so my husband and I could work on
getting labor started. We had dinner out (Italian this time) then drove up and down a bumpy road. We went home and did many OFP exercises and
used the breast pump. We did get some contractions going but nothing that I couldn't sleep through.
The next morning, we went to see the doctor. He walked in and saw the baby moving like crazy and said the NST would not be necessary because
the baby was so active. When he checked me (my first vaginal exam), he said I was 1 cm but could stretch to a 3. He said we needed to do
something because no other doctor there would do a VBAC. He suggested that I come the next morning for an "induction." He would call it that
to get me on the L&D schedule and then he would break my water and hope that I would go in to labor. My husband and I left his office and went
for lunch and to talk about our options. All this time my contractions were continuing-just not strong.
After lunch, we called our doula and asked her to meet us at our house to try some more things to get labor going. At this point I knew that I
was willing to try anything to avoid having my water broken the next morning. So I drank 1 oz of castor oil (in orange juice with baking
soda) around 2:00pm. Our doula arrived around 3:30 and we started with some homeopathy, then aromatherapy and acupressure. I started feeling
stronger and more regular contractions but I was handling them and felt confident that I would be able to continue to breathe through them, etc.
All 3 of us felt that this was going to be a long labor because I hadn't labored at all ever before and I had only been at 1 cm that morning. So
around 5:30 the doula left to keep her dinner plans. Within 30 minutes or so of her leaving, I began to not be able to handle the contractions.
I wanted to lie down and rest and keep my eyes closed but I wasn't able to. I also felt like I needed to sit on the toilet and poop. Of
course I thought it was because of the castor oil but I didn't feel any intestinal discomfort. At this point my mucous plug started coming out.
I was encouraged by that. However, I continued having the out of control feeling and kept having the urge to push. (Which I knew was
wrong because I had read about getting a lip when pushing too early.) I was screaming, etc. a lot but I was unable to tell my husband what I was
feeling. He didn't understand what was happening and neither did I. I thought that I was still early in labor.
Fortunately, the doula called when she got home to check on me. My husband told her things were getting worse and that I wasn't handling it
well. He asked her to come back. She called from the car on her way back and asked him if I was irrational. When he said "yes" she told him
to get me in the car and meet her at the hospital. So we headed out the door. I thought we were going to the hospital where I would ask for an
epidural and she would try to talk me out of one. I wondered how she would be able to do that because the pain was so intense and I just knew
that I was probably only 4 cm or so.
My husband used the lights and sirens on his emergency vehicle to get us quickly to the hospital. The hospital is normally about 45 minutes
away. We left our house around 8:30 (I think) and we arrived there about 20 minutes later. On the way he called L&D to tell them that we
were coming and that they needed to call our doctor. He was told that they would check me when I got there and they would call the doctor
then. We pulled up and he grabbed a wheelchair and wheeled me to the elevator (leaving my shoes in the car). We wheeled in to L&D and the
nurse checked me and told me that I was complete. They took me into a delivery room, put me in a gown and asked me to urinate in a cup. I
said that I couldn't. The whole time I was telling them that I needed to push. (I was probably screaming at them.) They were all telling me
to wait. By this time I had 5 L&D nurses doing things to me and telling me not to push. One was putting the antibiotic in me (for the strep B).
One was holding the monitor belts on my stomach. One was asking me questions and entering the information into the computer. (What was the
date of your last menstrual period? How many pregnancies have you had and what were the dates of them?) And one was quite helpful and
supportive-she'd had 3 natural births herself.
The doula got there followed by the doctor. Then I FINALLY got to push my baby out-2 contractions-and she was born at 9:17pm weighing 7 lbs 14oz and measuring 20 inches. They put her on my stomach and wiped her
off there. The placenta came out. Then all the pain stopped. They suctioned her a little then I got to nurse her!! It was truly the most
amazing and wonderful thing that I've experienced. Then they took out all the needles and put me in a wheel chair and took me to a post-partum
room and asked me to urinate again. I was on my feet within 2 hours of giving birth!!
Many of you know what I'm talking about. Many of you are planning a VBAC. I want to encourage those of you who are planning a VBAC not to
give up. Find the people who will support and help you. Read and research things as they come up. Then do it!!
Brandy's Story (c/s for "CPD"; c/s for failed induction; postdates home VBA2C)
Kmom's Notes: The fat-phobic doctor Brandy sees in the beginning of this pregnancy thought she "would be lucky" to get to 37 weeks because of her size. This is ironic since Brandy actually had the opposite issue; she went "overdue" instead and was almost forced into a repeat c/s because she went "late." This is a common issue for women of size; studies show our pregnancies tend to go longer, probably because our cycles tend to be longer too. But most "due dates" do not take our longer cycles into account.
Brandy gave birth past 42 weeks; imagine how badly her baby would have been affected if she had had a repeat c/s at 37 weeks like the doctor wanted. The baby would have been 5 weeks too early!! But of course, any problems they would have then encountered would probably have been blamed on her size.
Women can give birth just fine even well past their due date. Although there are some risks to consider when going "overdue," there are also risks involved in inducing or doing a c/s instead, though doctors tend to discount those risks. Many women gestate longer than average and their babies are just fine, but it's important to find a caretaker who is truly comfortable with letting a baby arrive on its own timetable as long as it seems to be doing well.
Birth Story
My husband and I have always wanted to have a bigger family. However, although we love our children dearly, their births were very traumatic. If you can imagine going into what should be one of the most exciting times of your life with fear of what the hospital bureaucracy was going to do to you, then you can know where we are coming from. We were left fearing the very people that are suppose to take care of us. N had spent one useless week in NICU because of “policies and
procedures,” and we spent our entire time at the hospital with both children feeling like prisoners desperate to escape.
We began talking about having another child when my daughter turned one. DH was so excited and eager. Several days before I could test he gave me a very special gift. I have the same baby book for both N and I, but it was discontinued. He began looking for a copy of it in April, and he kept it to give to me when I was pregnant. I cried because I could not believe what an incredible gift it was. It was not something I had discussed with him, just something he noticed. DH is like that though. He is very romantic and always paying attention to details like that.
Since I have a history of ectopic pregnancy that left me with only one tube and ovary, I need to have an ultrasound at the beginning of the pregnancy to be sure that the baby is in the right place. I made an appointment with an OB/Gyn who marked herself as “natural childbirth
friendly.” All was well. What happened next blew me away.
The doctor, Dr. B., wanted to do a pap smear. I would normally not object, but I had one just two months prior to that
exam in her office. It seemed pretty useless. I was told the pap was required. Then there were extra swabs out, and I asked what they were testing for, to which I was informed yeast infection. I explained that I did not want that
test. I was told it was policy, and I could not decline the test. (I later learned that I was lied to, since that is a test for Sexually Transmitted Diseases. No wonder insurance premiums are high… I have no need for that type of test.) Although I was irritated, I complied.
Dr. B comes in the room, and I mention that I want to have a natural childbirth. She immediately begins talking down to me as if I was an idiot, and explains that it is way too dangerous, not to mention all my problems that I bring to the table. You see, I am overweight. I guess she thought I was not aware of that when I came in to see her, so she took every opportunity to point it out to me. I have never in my life been treated as disrespectfully or as much as a moron as I was in that visit. Dr. B was convinced that I was a liar about the ectopic drama, that I was unable to walk a block, and despite my protests that I was neither she was convinced that I was a gestational diabetic and had problems with PIH (Pregnancy Induced Hypertension). She looked at me like I was nuts when I said that I thought my large babies were caused by having a large father, and that they continued to be big once out of the womb as well. She discussed setting up my c-section for 37 weeks; because there was no way that someone my size could go beyond that mark, and “we would be lucky” to make it that long in the pregnancy.
I spent the next several hours crying. I did not make a follow up appointment, but I figured that regardless of what decision I made, this was probably as good as it was going to get. I knew that if that was my option, I was not going to be seeing a doctor. I had full
confidence that I could walk into any ER and get a c-section if I wanted one. The same could not be said for a vaginal birth, which seemed like a distant dream.
I am now thankful to the Lord for that horrible appointment. I had wanted to try a midwife or do some alternative to the traditional system, but it did not seem possible. Now that I knew I could not continue to go the other route, it was much more possible. My husband also became much more interested in the alternative, after seeing how badly I felt after that appointment.
I had a very dear friend named Delilah who talked to me after that horrible visit, and told me about a midwife who was a friend of
hers who would take VBACs. I had contacted one midwife prior to the Dr. B visit, and she did not take VBA2Cs. I had assumed that was how it would go with all midwives, but she directed me to someone who could help. Her name was M, and she had a birth center. DH and I immediately thought she was great. She was not worried about me trying for a VBA2C, or that I was overweight. She thought we would do great. Her optimism really brought a part of the excitement of the birth process back to us, because she offered us some hope that we could do this. We just loved her, the center, and the idea that we actually had a chance to do things differently. M wrote us the sweetest note about how she knew we would have a great delivery, and was the first person to find Sarah’s heartbeat.
Tragedy struck, and M was killed in a car accident. Although we did not know her well, she had already worked her way into our hearts. She had given us hope that we could have a normal delivery, and the Lord had used her mightily in our lives. We could not imagine what her family was going through, and our hearts just broke for them.
M’s partner J took us as one of her patients, for which we were very thankful. It was so hard to think of someone so young and beautiful with a family passing away, and then we were sad that we might be back to where we started as well. (Although we were much more upset for her family’s loss, as we had faith that the Lord would provide a way for us.) J began seeing us when we were about 18 weeks pregnant.
At 20 weeks we had the standard sonogram appointment. The lady who did the sono was not very
friendly. She saw a fibroid that was keeping the placenta from attaching properly to the uterine wall, and was on top of my prior c-section scars no less. We were so scared. We did not know, until we began to research at home that this was a danger of having a section. We also did not realize that with every section the chance of this condition (known as Placenta
Accreta) increases. That was an eye-opening experience. We were never told the dangers of having sections. We asked, but we were not told that this was yet another side effect. The doctor, who did my first two sections, first for CPD, and the second for failed induction, knew we wanted a larger family, but said that he personally had done 5 sections on one person, so we did not think that having them was dangerous. Not true. The danger of placenta accreta increases dramatically with each incision. Furthermore, we learned after the first section that ectopic pregnancy is a danger as well. We learned that after a miscarriage and subsequent removal of my left tube and ovary.
At first we were both just so scared and so upset. It did not seem possible that we were having yet another side effect from having a section. After a day or two I really began to have no fear. None. I really felt in my heart that everything would be fine, and I could not explain it but I felt it was the Lord granting me the peace.
The day of our level two [sonogram], Delilah went with us to the appointment. DH and I were afraid we might be emotional and not think through all of our questions properly. Delilah is one of the most detailed and knowledgeable people I know. She is also one of the most compassionate and caring believers that I have met. Delilah prayed for us, and we shared a few laughs before getting started.
The girl came in to do the sono and asked if we had any questions. We told her we were hoping to see if we were having a boy or a girl. She saw almost immediately and said, "It’s a girl!! DH and I looked at each other and at the same time, said, it’s Sarah! As she was scanning, we were able to see so much detail. I cried at seeing her heart beating because it was so clear and so beautiful. Watching her move around was such a gift. We asked if she saw any problems and she said no, but the doctor will be here soon.
The doctor came in, and was so much nicer than I expected. We also had a laugh with him early in his visit, because I asked him about his published works in the Journal of Perinatology. He was very surprised I knew about that, and I told him I look up all my providers. He thought that was pretty funny, and said I was the first patient who had ever said that. He reviewed the images that the sonographer had taken, and then went to scanning on his own. After he was finished he said, your placenta is nowhere near your scar site, and you do not have a fibroid.
We were stunned. We still had the last sono on tape, and you could see the growth under the placenta. The doctor said it could have been a weird contraction of the uterus, but it should not have lasted the entire sono. He had no explanation at all that was adequate. I choose to take it as a miracle. We left there praising God, and thanking Him for His graciousness, and provision. Delilah, when she prayed for us, told us to pray boldly. It’s safe to say none of us expected that answer though!
Our next big pregnancy milestone was taking childbirth classes in January. We learned how making one choice often means making other decisions inadvertently. Such as getting an epidural means consenting to pitocin, a bladder catheter, and a fetal scalp [monitor]. We had not really thought of that before.
In February, at the request of J, I began seeing a chiropractor to help get Sarah into a proper position. I cannot stress how skeptical I was at going this route. I was convinced it was a waste of money, but I thought, I will do it, since it was requested of me, and I don’t believe it will hurt anything. I met the doctor, and she was really sweet, and I felt convinced that she believed in what she was doing. She ran a few tests, and it showed a few things that were not correct, and then told me I should come three times a week. It was going to be expensive!! But we had the medical care account so I thought okay, I will do this.
Boy, was I surprised when I told her about my tailbone, which had hurt since
N was born, and she believed she could correct the problem. She explained that usually the bone doesn’t break in labor (what I had been told); rather, it gets bent out of shape and causes pain. She said that had it been broken it would have healed, and then I would not be in pain, but being bent out of shape, it could cause pain indefinitely. So, she pushed my tailbone back where it belonged. I have not had pain in my butt since!! DH asked me afterwards if it was worth the over $500 we were going to pay out of pocket to go to the chiro, and I explained that I would have paid much more than that to have my butt fixed! He laughed and agreed. I am now a big fan of chiropractics. Oh, and when Sarah was transverse, she flipped head down within a week of getting my adjustments. I felt like my lesson here was that maybe the Lord was teaching me to be more open-minded. I hope it is a lesson learned.
In March, DH and I ended up having an off-handed conversation about birth, where I told him that I thought I would like to have a home birth. He is so amazing! DH told me that he had felt that way for some time, and was going to discuss
it. I was so amazed that I married such a wonderful guy, and so excited that we were on the same
page and going to have Sarah at home!
The next big surprise for March came toward the end of the month… I was given a surprise shower. I was so emotional, because no one had ever done anything so nice for me before. I was surrounded by people that I just loved so much…. All these amazing friends that I had made, and I had the best time. After the shower, DH gave me a special letter that he had written with a prayer. He never counts it enough to write them, he always reads his letters to me too. What a gift. I will treasure these memories for all my life. And I praise God for giving me such a wonderful husband and beautiful friends!
One of the other issues we were having was with our midwife. I started to feel like we were making her nervous. It was not something I could really pin down, but I thought maybe because we were a VBA2C. However that seemed unlikely because she was once in our shoes. I don’t really know what started to cause these doubts to creep up in my mind, but they were there. DH was getting less
content and more nervous as our due date approached, because he felt like we were going to have to grapple somewhat with our care provider. She is a loving and wonderful woman, but she seemed to vacillate between
'everything is great' to 'this pregnancy is not going so well.'
I had no complications with the pregnancy. My glucose was wonderful, my blood pressures were great, I had gained a relatively small amount of weight, and I was doing what I was told. However, one of the herbs that I was asked to take, on one occasion, made my blood pressure go up and caused some swelling. I am not a big pill taker, herb or not, so I was not too concerned, since I knew it must be the cause of the elevated BP. Immediately after quitting the herb, I returned to normal. This did not seem to go over well, and I started feeling like I was reassuring my care provider that all would be well on one visit, and then she would be happy the next visit. It was very odd.
Luckily she had a student C (who was about to graduate) working with her, and I always felt like she was on my side. She was always very upbeat, and when we asked about doing a home birth, she was clearly so excited that you could not wipe the smile off her face. She always made me feel better, and I always felt like she was listening when I spoke.
C was also so sweet because she so badly wanted to be at our birth. We were so excited to have her there too!
As my LMP due date approached and went, I was not worried. The ultrasound due date (4-27) came and went, and she still wasn’t here. That was okay. However, this is when the questions start coming. “When are you going to have that baby?” “You’re STILL pregnant?” Those questions… booming from friends and people who check you out at the store. At this point, I was taking Evening Primrose Oil orally and vaginally, as well as taking the herb that originally raised my BP in order to start labor. I was walking, sitting on my birth ball, going to the chiro, eating
spicy foods, and doing just about every thing you could think of. Every night I was going to bed thinking this could be the night that I wake DH up to tell him I am in labor.
At 40 weeks 3 days I allowed the only check I would have before labor. J checked me and I had a very anterior
cervix that was mushy. I was dilated to a two. YES! I was making progress and I was working. Although I consented to this check, I was so grateful to not be getting checked all that time. I really liked not having to take my clothes off and go through the whole checking process. It was so freeing just to say no. I thought it would be hard not knowing, but it really was for the best. When I did get checked it was to confirm what I already knew, and to give my midwife a chance to see where I was. Although admittedly this check was just a check and really meant nothing in the whole scheme of time, it was good mentally for me to have this one done.
On the day that I turned 41 (by sono) weeks, I lost my mucus plug. I was also having prodromal labor. I would contract every 15-20 minutes and it would go most all day and end at night. The contractions were never that bad, and they did not bother me, other than they never seemed to bring on labor!
I started having bloody show two days later, so I knew that my cervix was changing then too! Now, if I would just go into
labor…I went through the weekend with no labor.
Monday, May 8th
J was not worried when we went past the 4-27 date. (I lied about my LMP to give myself an extra week.) In fact, she said that she would let me go past the 42 week mark. However, when we hit the 41 week mark with no baby, she started to get concerned. The biophysical profile test that she had said I would need after 42 weeks she wanted at 41 weeks. I took the first BPP at 41 and 3 days. Everything was great. Sarah was doing really well, she scored a 6 out of 8, which we were told was a great score.
We took the results to the office, and J was not impressed. In fact, it seemed to really build her concerns. In a move that seemed really unusual for J, she and her partner started getting onto me in the open front office. We were the only clients there, but I was really unnerved by this. I felt like I was being tag-teamed. When we arrived at the office, I was contracting and having bloody show. By the time we left, both had stopped completely.
J was very concerned that I had not gone into labor, and told me that I needed to do something to bring it on. This language somewhat surprised me because I thought that labor was not in my hands. She told me that the sono I had was not as good as having a radiologist-read scan so I would have to go back and do one the next day, and then maybe even the day after that, as long as the results were good. But that I would have to have the baby before I turned 42 weeks. I was told that I needed to take castor oil, have sex, continue the EPO, and let her strip my membranes. I told them I would think about these things, and let them know.
There was so much pressure at this visit. I never dreamed I would feel the pressure of the clock before I ever went into labor, and that is exactly what I was feeling. (This was one of my big labor fears, that I would have to have the baby by a certain time or I would be sent to the hospital for a section.) I cannot write down how scared and uncertain I felt after this visit.
When I called Delilah, I was in tears. I did not know what to think or do still, but
eventually I knew that things would be okay. I felt very lifted up by prayer, and I was
weak and bruised, but far from beaten. I told Delilah to please keep having her prayer warriors lift me
up.
We went to bed that night with a few decisions made. One, I would not have my membranes stripped. I had Group B Strep, and I did not want antibiotics which might or might not spare Sarah the infection. We would think about the castor oil later, and we were not doing it before we went to bed or the next morning.
Tuesday, May 9th
The funny thing about the 9th of May is that this was the day that C returned from her graduation from
midwifery school. So, she could be at our labor after all, which if I had to go later that seemed like a great thing to hold out for! We knew that the phone was going to be ringing asking us to make a decision, and DH without my knowing called up J and told her we would not make any decisions that day. We were going to the zoo and spend time together as a family; we were not going to do the BPP. He felt we were justified in the decision since the first BPP was so good.
We had a great time at the zoo. J called [afterwards] and was really upset that we did not do the BPP. After that, DH took the phones off of the hook. I think every ounce of strength I had was gone by the end of Tuesday. I cried, DH cried, and we both prayed. This was the hardest day of the entire pregnancy.
I was asked a question by someone unexpected, and it hit me very hard. The question was when was I going to give up? When was the magic date? The answer was simple, I had no clue, but I could not take many more days like Tuesday. I was going to lose my mind if I did. I was beginning to think that maybe I was going too far, but I always came back to the BPP from the day before… how could she be so healthy, and then not be? She was moving around, and I knew in my heart that she was fine. At this point I was required to take fetal movements three times a day. I did them more like five times a day, and she was always hitting her number of movements within 30 seconds. These were not the signs of a baby in trouble. DH and I just held on, and decided that we would pray and take things one day at a time. We were both so
exhausted that we just went to bed.
As an interesting side note, there was a girl online who had been fighting being induced and although she lived in New Zealand where the midwife standard of care is used, she was well past her due
date and getting frustrated. She kept insisting on not being induced, but
finally went in for induction and ended up with a c-section. I was really sad for
her; I think I was identifying with her. She and I were the last on the board of April
Moms that I knew of. I guess you could say, then there was one.
Wednesday, May 10th
What a difference a day makes! When I got out of bed, I felt really good. I felt so strong, almost like I could fly. DH was very beaten down, and it was clear on his face, but I kept telling him all would be okay, and that we would have this baby very, very soon. I could feel it. I told him that all the prayers people were
praying were lifting me up. My optimism even spread to DH.
We went and did a second BPP in the middle of the day. This turned out to be a blessing.
Our scanner for the day was so nervous about doing this scan and doing it correctly that he took measurements multiple times!
The good news was that I was fine and so was Sarah. She had great fluid levels, he saw fetal breathing motions, and all her parts were accounted for and functioning great. She had an estimated weight of 9lbs 12
oz. The scan had taken about an hour and a half because he was working so hard at doing a good job… When I got up to leave I had a contraction, and he said, "We were all afraid you would go into labor and have your baby here." I laughed!! I said if that was all it took, I would have come here weeks ago!
Delilah and her apprentice/daughter V came over later that afternoon, which was great. We all knew that on Friday I was going to exceed my midwife’s protocols. So, if I did not have Sarah by then, I was going to have to do something else. The conversation about options went on for quite some time, and it was good to get all the cards laid out on the table.
That night DH and I went to bed feeling good, but knowing that we had one day to go into labor. I had a feeling we were not going to do that, but I was optimistic that everything would be fine.
Thursday, May 11th
When I woke up on Thursday, I did not feel as high as I did on Wednesday, but I knew I was still lifted up.
I knew I would not go into labor. I knew that Sarah was going to come in the Lord’s timing. I had quit taking the herbs, and I was not doing anything artificial to bring on labor.
That morning I spoke with J and she had to lay her cards out on the table, and I felt bad, but I know that she was
disappointed in me that I would not take the advice of castor oil, herbs, stripping, etc. I did not think that making myself as sick as a dog was the way to go into labor. What if I had a long labor, and nothing left to give because I was so sick? What if it had an effect on Sarah and or put us both in danger? What if it wasn’t time for her to be born yet? I thought N’s induction might have worked had he been in a better position and ready to be born. I had dilated quickly, but he was in an awful position. J’s point was that I was headed to a section the next day if I did not have her and was it worth it to put all my eggs in those baskets. I knew that I would not willingly lay on the table at that point. Not with Sarah doing so well.
Really, wasn’t that the question…When would I give up? I can’t tell you how many times I was asked this question in various forms. When will you end this,
Why won’t you just have a section, A section's not that bad…and my favorite,
Why won’t you put your baby first? I was frequently made to feel like I was so selfish for holding out, which is ridiculous. Sarah was doing great.
I felt like I was being made out to be a bad mother for waiting. I think it is important to say until I felt that the Lord was leading me on
that path, and as long as all the tests said that Sarah was fine, I was not going to willingly lay myself down and have my body violated at my own request. If Sarah was ever in any danger, I would have been the happiest section patient ever operated on. I really believe that holding off was in Sarah’s best interest. C-sections are a wonderful option for women and babies in danger, but not for a perfectly healthy baby and mother.
After talking to J, I was very upset. I knew what she would say, and I knew she was in a difficult position. Her protocols required her to give my care over. I understood, and I knew it was coming. I went to the chiropractor for an adjustment, and Dr. M did some additional pressure
points. Her husband Dr. P did acupuncture. On my prior acupuncture visits the whole procedure was pretty pain
free; this time that was not the case. He was determined to bring on contractions, and he kept upping the
TENS unit (adding electrical stimulation to the acupuncture needles); I was very uncomfortable…but I was having contractions. I was at the office for about two hours. Poor DH and Delilah were worried, and DH even called the office to see if I was okay. Everyone knew I was upset.
When I came home Delilah told me about a midwife she called and asked about me hypothetically. The midwife, M, had already called her back and asked why the hypothetical client hadn’t called her. Before I could get off the phone with Delilah, J called, and I could sense her disappointment in me, as well as at the situation that we were in. I called Delilah back, had a good cry over the situation, yet again, and we agreed that I would get off the phone, refresh, pray and call M.
M was such a pleasure to talk to. I said, “Hi, I am the hypothetical patient that Delilah told you about!” To which she replied that she had been waiting on my call. We both laughed.
She was not at all concerned about my having had two prior sections, as long as I realized what the risks were, and she was not worried at all that I was starting my (ahem) 42nd week. (Again, I was not telling that by LMP I was 43 weeks.) The first thing that she said that made me take a huge deep breath was after I made a comment of falling out of the norms by going late. She immediately corrected me and said, you fell out of the averages, not out of normal. I don’t know how I did not fall out of my chair when she said that. Tears of joy came to my eyes, and I told her, you are so right. We spoke for quite some time, and agreed to meet in her office the next afternoon.
After we spoke, I called DH and told him I really, really liked her, and that I was confident that we had a care provider. Then I called Delilah, who upon hearing my voice, said I can hear your relief. She was right. I was so relieved. I had a back-up plan, and I knew that I could go ahead and gestate in peace now. It was like having a huge burden taken off of my back. I felt like it was okay to go into labor. However, that was the first night that DH and I went to bed and I told him tonight would not be the night. I knew I needed the rest, because Friday was going to be another hard day.
Friday, May 12th
Friday was the day that I needed to meet with J in order to get my discharge from her practice. I knew it was coming, and I was outside her protocols.
I knew the Lord would give me the strength to do what I needed to do and the grace to handle J with love and mercy… like I expected her to treat me too.
When I arrived I was surprised to see C there. Friday was not a day she worked, and I knew she was there out of support for me. What an amazing gesture, and she will never know how the Lord blessed me through her. I brought up that I knew
J was here to discharge my care, and I told her that I understood. She asked me if I was going to go to an OB or hospital to have a section. I said no. She explained that she thought that I was making a mistake. I said I know that you do, but I don’t believe that I am making a mistake.
She then asked me the million dollar question…When will you give up? I gave my truthful and usual answer, “I don’t
know.” She explained that every day I was past due increased the chances of bad things happening. I explained that I had read up on post-maturity syndrome, and that I was aware of the dangers. J went on to share information that did not necessarily correspond with what I had read completely. I then said, “Well, no one is pregnant forever, and I know my body will go into labor when it is time.” (Immediately
Isaiah 66:9 came to mind,"Do I bring to the moment of birth and not give delivery?" says the LORD. "Do I close up the womb when I bring to delivery?" says your God.) J’s answer to this was surprising. She said that not everyone goes into labor, and that I could be one of them. She had seen it many times.
At this point I realized that we had a core philosophy difference. I did believe that given time my body would work. I had no idea why I had not gone into labor like the averages said I should, but I did not think it was my time yet. She thought that my body had failed. The big problem that I had here was that she had experience, and I was going on theory. That is one of the things that made C’s being there so special.
It was okay for me to stand up and make this stance because I was not alone, operating on theory. There was someone else there who was standing up with me; someone with experience and ability, and who shared my philosophy. I was able to stand firm, and lovingly disagree with J.
Finally J had me sign a document to absolve her of any poor decisions that I made from that point forward. I knew that the language would be strong, but I did not agree with the paper that I signed, and I felt like it was scare tactics. However, I signed my
name. I did it quickly and quietly, and just wanted to leave then. I only signed that form for J’s peace of mind. If anyone else had requested that of me, I would have refused. I did give J a hug, promised to bring Sarah to see her, and thanked her for all the help and care up to that point. It was clear that we both disagreed with the other’s decisions that day, but I know to the core of my being that that visit was not easy for J, and that she was giving me the best care she could.
C and I said quick goodbyes in the parking lot, and I verified that she would be willing to work with M on my birth. Her smile was amazing!
At this point I was off to go meet M. We spoke to each other for almost two hours. She shared birth stories with us that made me cry.
She explained that going 42 weeks wasn’t abnormal, and that she herself went almost 44 weeks with her daughter, and that her mother went beyond 44 weeks. She told us how much she loves doing VBACs because women appreciate so much more the gift of natural birth when they have had the alternative. We just loved M, and DH was so relaxed with her. They were joking together and I thought wow, this is great. We were completely at ease with her.
Toward the end of the visit, she wanted to check heart tones and gave us a heart monitor in case my water broke at home. This way we could monitor for problems
such as prolapse right after. I asked her if she wanted to check me and she said nope, not if you are strep b
positive. I was so excited! Another thing we were on the same page about. When M checked Sarah’s heart rate, she had to place the monitor very, very low. She asked if this is where it was normally heard and I said no. She said she is into your pelvis if the heartbeat is gotten that low. She did not think that CPD would be a problem. This was not something I could fully register with more than a giggle right then. From this point forward there were a lot of things that I couldn’t fully understand or appreciate until hindsight.
As we were leaving, DH handed over the credit card for our down payment, and I ran to the bathroom. M was actually going to do our birth. I was so calm and so excited. I felt like I could dance. Amazingly enough, the bloody show returned. Maybe we would be calling M in the middle of the night….
Saturday, May 13th
The next morning I woke up, and almost immediately began having contractions. This was nothing new. In fact it had been going on during my waking hours for at least 10 days.
I called Delilah to vent my frustration. She assured me that it was normal to do
this, and told me the story of the Little Engine that Could. Each time I did this, I was getting somewhere, and to keep thinking I can. Eventually I would get over the hill and all the children would cheer because I had the candy and toys. The visualization made me laugh, and for whatever reason stuck with me.
After [a birthday party], Delilah called and asked how I was doing. I explained that I still thought this wasn’t labor, but the contractions were getting much closer together, like 5-7 minutes apart.
[When Delilah arrived], I asked if she would help wash the table off. DH teased Delilah about our getting the platinum doula services. She was cleaning our house… would she mind mowing the yard? Delilah laughed, and declined to provide the mowing services. She thought we might need her help today and she did not want to smell bad.
I still disagreed about being in labor, but gosh those contractions were coming
quickly, every 3 minutes. D thought I should call M to give her a heads-up.
But I had thought so many times this might be labor and every time I was wrong. I did not want to embarrass myself in front of this new
midwife. Finally Delilah said, “Do you mind if I call her?” I agreed. I nearly cried even then because I just knew I was making too much of this. But I was having a hard time controlling my emotions, and I was on the verge of tears.
When Delilah called M, she asked her if she had her birth supplies. It never dawned on me that she might need extra supplies and more of a warning. Luckily M was close by with her student and she had all her supplies. She was surprised that I was having contractions since she had talked to me earlier and I said nothing about them.
M and her student arrived. M had a huge smile on her face and asked me if I thought we might have a baby today. I told her, I don’t know. I wondered if she would check me and tell me if I was in labor or if this was more of the prodromal labor-ish stuff. She said sure, and that while she was at it, she would do a pelvic assessment. When she checked me on the bed, she said, “No need to do a pelvic assessment, your pelvis is perfect fine since your baby is already down, you are dilated to a four, fully effaced, and have a bulgy bag.” I immediately began to cry. MY BODY WAS WORKING! I WENT INTO LABOR ON MY OWN!!!! I had not done anything to bring on labor, but the time was at hand. PRAISE GOD!!!
Delilah called C, and she was on her way to assist with M! YEAH! Things were starting to move right along. M took my blood pressure and it was 104/60. I was so relaxed! It’s great being at home! Don’t get me wrong, the contractions were causing me to take notice and breathe. But I was so excited and riding so high.
I decided to take a shower. I asked M if it was okay, and DH said, "Brandy, this is your house, and your decision. If you want to take a shower, then take one." While in the shower, the contractions really kicked it up a notch. They were almost unbearable. I felt nauseous, weak, and like I could not keep doing this. What a huge change! The water felt great on my back, and the cold of the shower wall felt great on my forehead, but the contractions had really gotten so close together it felt like they were on top of each other. Standing had always made the contractions worse, but wow. This was really intense! I got out of the shower and asked if I could be checked again. I thought it’s time for this baby to come out now!! M checked me and I was a 5. DH was really pumped, and I was like what??? Only a five?? I had a miniature panic in my head thinking,
"I can’t do this."
When I laid down, the contractions were still coming, but were more bearable. DH had the big fan going, and he cuddled me, Delilah was offering verbal comfort, and making sure I was comfortable. C was there answering too and rubbing my legs. I was really afraid I was going to blow this opportunity. But as I laid down, closed my eyes and things got quiet, the only person I was aware of being there was DH. Things were quiet, and I felt like I was regaining strength. The contractions were coming, but laying down on my left side they were less intense. This break really helped me get my thoughts back together, and I prayed for strength and wisdom. I opened my eyes and I was so surprised to see Delilah still there. I had really phased out, and only knew DH was there with me. She was sitting on the floor reading the Bible, and she read to us a Psalm that she was reading and praying for us. It was a beautiful moment.
After she finished, I asked if I could have my birth ball, since I wanted to sit rather than lay down and slow things down. I was under much more control by God’s Grace and it was time to get down to business. Delilah and C came in the room, and DH helped me get on the ball.
Periodically throughout all of this they would come in and take the fetal heart tones, but I don’t know how often. Time was pretty meaningless. I remember thinking as the contractions were on top of each other on the birth ball that I could not do this for another 12 hours.
The contractions had gotten to where they were just on top of each other. They were not impossible to ride through, but some really were so painful. I was thinking in between how different this was than pitocin contractions. Pitocin had the contractions right together, but the pain with the pit was so different, and so much larger than these contractions. It was helping me deal with the contractions I was having to think about that.
I suddenly felt a popping sensation, and I thought my water must have broken. Turns out I was wrong, but Delilah said you should get up and go to the bathroom. I had been having trouble getting urine out, and it had been a while since I went to the bathroom. I agreed, but when I stood up, I started pushing!!!
The sensation for me was very overwhelming. I wasn’t sure I could move, and I was amazed at the power going through my body. M came in to check me, and told me I was complete except for a cervical lip. She said she could break my water to help the lip disappear and I all but begged her to break my water. She told me to get up on the bed...M broke the bag of water. DH stood next to me, and Delilah got on the other side of the bed to help comfort me. Delilah also got cool rags, and made sure the pillows were in the right spot for me to be as comfortable as possible. I looked at the clock for the first time and took in the time. It was 8:10pm.
I had said that I did not want to be told when to push or how to push, unless it would keep me from tearing. M and C were great. They told me that I should avoid pushing unless I could not help it since I still had the cervical lip. They said that the lip was disappearing with little pushes. Once the lip was gone, they told me to push, but take my time about it.
Once I began pushing, M and C were putting warm compresses on the perineal area. THAT FELT SO GOOD. It made it so much easier for me to calmly push, and felt so good in between the pushes. As I continued to push the feeling became less overwhelming and much more empowering. I could hear DH praying for me, and everyone assured me I was doing great. I was having a hard time believing she was coming out though. I kept asking DH over and over if she was really coming.
I was sweating like I have never sweated in my life, and I felt like I was grunting so loud with each push. I was sure I was scaring my kids! I am told that I was not that loud, but in my brain I was really, really loud. I continued to pray in between contractions, and even once “yelled” for the Lord to help me. He certainly did.
I continued to ask DH repeatedly if she was really coming. I was afraid that I was not doing things right. Finally, Delilah tells me that they can see her head, and M invites me to feel her head. I was sure I did not have the ability and strength to do that, but I asked DH to look. He said he could see her head, and it gave me renewed energy to draw from. I was actually pushing out my baby. I started to enjoy the pushing as much as a person can when they are at that stage. M would tell me when to stop to avoid tearing, and I started to recognize the sensation and stop before she said to. She would point to different areas on my perineal area, and tell me to relax/melt that part. I have no idea how, but when she touched it, I was able to relax that area. (Later she told me that she had read that from a famous midwife’s book, and she did not know how it worked either, but it did.)
Finally they tell DH come down here to catch your daughter. I was so excited, and I just could not believe that my husband was about to catch our baby. Her head was totally out, and I needed to push out her shoulders and body. She had not made a noise yet, and I was told there was quite a bit of meconium. I finally gave a last push, and I felt her body come out of my body.
I JUST DELIVERED OUR BABY. I could not believe it. DH was laughing that Sarah had more of a controlled fall, and was kissing me and telling me how beautiful she was. I kept waiting for her to cry though. I was getting scared, and M told me that she was great, she just wasn’t ready to cry yet. She was still getting the cord blood and was going to be fine, but we would not be able to harvest the cells because she needed them. Since we had the meconium it was ideal that she start breathing on her own, rather than suck in the fluid. M and C got out the syringe and asked Sarah to please not make them do that to her. She immediately began crying. What an amazing noise!!
I started to cry and said, “CPD my ass!!!” (What an incredibly crass thing to come from my mouth at such a beautiful moment!) I could not believe that I had just given birth to our daughter. The tears were just flowing. I also made mention of the Little Engine that Could and told Delilah that that children were cheering.
I wanted to see Sarah and I needed to flip over. Since she was still attached, this was going to be a little tricky, combined with the fact that there was meconium all over. As I was flipping over, the placenta came out. I apologized! I had never felt another contraction and was not aware it was coming! I was appalled that I could be so unaware of the placenta coming out!
Sarah was so beautiful, and reminded me so much of N. She looked so much like him when he was born. DH cut Sarah’s cord, and she began to nurse. It was so awesome! I was so thankful to everyone for being there, and for making her birth so beautiful. I was so humbled, and amazed, and just felt so much disbelief that I had just had our daughter. We called our moms to let them know.
I took an herbal bath. DH took Sarah to meet N and I. They were a little surprised but very excited by their little sister. M did a quick check on me. My bleeding was great, so there was no need for any kind of pitocin shot. My uterus was feeling like it should, and was shrinking like it needed to. But the best news of all was that I did not have any kind of tear or even a skid mark. I was so amazed. M did not think I did, but the exam conclusively showed she was right. I was sure I didn’t tear as well since I was not in pain, and when I went to the bathroom there was not any burning. Amazing!
After that, it was time for Sarah to get the newborn exam. Delilah went around asking how much everyone thought she weighed. I thought she was in the seven pound range. She seemed so small to me. M laughed out loud when I gave that guess. DH guessed 9 lbs 12oz, and it was my understanding that almost everyone else was thinking over 10lbs. She was 9lbs, 8oz., 20 inches long, and had a 14.25 inch head circumference.
She was healthy as could be, and it was great fun to be able to
watch and ask questions while the exam was going on. No one was taking Sarah out of my sight without asking me
first. I was just amazed. After the exam, I got Sarah in her first diaper, and got her dressed. I was in a state of disbelief. My baby was right there, and I was STANDING, laughing, and getting my daughter dressed.
After the exam, I was told I had to eat before they left. I had pizza and juice. It was really good. They finished up paperwork, and sure enough, they were all gone. I sat there with my older children asleep, DH fading fast, and little Sarah crashed out. I was so wide awake and I felt like dancing. I knew I needed to sleep, but I had to sit and take in my life. What an amazing gift this day had been.
I am still so thankful to the Lord for the Grace I was shown. I had the most amazing birth that ever occurred. I really believe that, and I praise God!
Jaci's Story (Hospital Transfer, VBA2C)
Kmom's Notes:
Birth Story
Friday, February 21st:
Dh and I and the kids went to the mall to do a little walking. Definitely got things started and
contractions started about 8 p.m. Could certainly tell they were not braxton-hicks, but they were not
regular at all. They continued on through the night--I remember some of them waking me up and Dh
says that I didn’t sleep much.
Saturday, February 22nd:
Got up early and decided that we would call my parents to come and get the kids. They arrived early
afternoon and were very nervous (wasn’t helping me at all!). Though we hadn’t told them we were planning to
homebirth they had figured it out on their own and my Mom was absolutely dying to stay. They stayed for a
couple hours and then took our two younger ones home with them. Was still having contractions but still
nothing regular, but they were “uncomfortable”. We decided to call the midwife. We both just love her,
but she insisted that we not call her that--she is an apprentice midwife. Didn’t bother us a bit--in fact,
on our first visit with her (at 38 weeks) she told me more about my baby than the sOB had in all the visits
I’d had with him. Terribly sad what so many women don’t know they are missing. Midwife arrived about
9:00 p.m. Contractions were 5 minutes apart and lasting about 50 seconds. FHR 140s. According to
midwife’s notes I was happy and talkative between contractions.
Sunday, February 23rd:
Contractions continue about 4-5 minutes apart. I get in and out of pool a few times. It feels great, but
the pool we got was way too big and it is very hard to keep the water warm. About 6 a.m. midwife asks if I
want to be checked and I say yes. I am 6 cm. I take a short nap and then get up and eat. Really don’t
(and haven’t so far) feel like eating, but Dh and midwife insist. Contractions continue, but then start
to space way apart around about noon. It starts to really snow hard outside and then we hear thunder.
Thunder snow--how neat! I again try resting and contractions then start up again. 8 p.m. and I am
feeling rested because of a few short naps. I get checked again about 9 p.m. and am 8 cm. This gets me
excited (at least I think I remember it doing so!). FHR still in 140s. Contractions continue on through
the night about 6 minutes apart. Have been doing the “ohhhh” sound for what feels like forever! :-)
Monday, February 24th:
Contractions start picking up and I am checked about 6 a.m. Am still 8 cm. and this was a little
disappointing I must say. Contractions continue 4 minutes apart (and so does the snow which makes it
look like we are snowed in something fierce-we live out in the “boonies”) and my water breaks about 1 p.m.
It is not a big gush--just some trickling. There is slight meconium. Midwife checks me and I am 9
cm. FHR still in 140s but midwife is getting concerned that I am soooo tired. I was supposed to go the sOBs
this morning for my 40 week appt. but we didn’t go obviously because we were going to homebirth. I had
been having trouble with this doc wanting to do section (had actually told me that if nothing was
happening by today he would schedule the 28th!). I stayed with him on recommendation of midwife and
others who said I should since he was VBAC friendly just in case I had to transfer. Terrible thing is, he
is not very VBAC friendly, but is the VBAC friendliest doc in town! Did that make any sense? :-) Dh had
called and said we were snowed in. sOBs office calls several times, leaving messages on the answering
machine, saying that he needs to talk with me etc. I honestly don’t remember much past this point, but Dh
had been napping and midwife went to wake him up and we started to discuss transporting. Dh was
furious!!!!! He felt we had made this decision without him and oh was he mad. We did leave for the
hospital about 4:30 p.m. We get to the hospital about 5:30 (we made it without getting stuck!). I was
admitted, brought to the L&D room and told to put on a gown which I just hated. The nurse came in and
started asking me all kinds of questions and then left the room. She came back in to put in an IV and I told
her that I told doc that I wanted a heplock and that he said it was ok. Well, she just literally went off
on me! Got right in my face and yelled that I was vbacing after 2 sections and did I know
how dangerous that was? I needed special care and she didn’t see any birth plan and then went off on me that I was
lying to her on some question she had asked me. Whoa! Here I’ve been in labor for how long, I am soo tired
and this nurse is literally screaming at me. Dh was not in the room at the time (he says she was lucky he
was not because he would have punched her!) and I don’t honestly remember what I did.
She proceeds to put the IV in and blows the vein in my left arm. She tries the right arm and blows the vein in that arm! There is literally blood running down my arm and onto the bed and I’m thinking oh my God who is this woman. She finally gets someone else to do it and then when she is putting the line in, she is dropping stuff and scaring the hell out of me. It finally works and I make it through! Then she checks me and says that I am 4 c.m.! Oh, that just shoots me way down! sOB comes in and asks if I still want to VBAC (oh for pity’s sake-he has asked this at the last 10 visits!) I say yes and then he says he has to go over the risks and does so and the only risk of a ERCS is that it takes longer to recuperate!!!!!! Whatever. Then he says do I realize that if my uterus ruptures that people are going to start running all over the place and going crazy? Uh, yeah, I guess. He finally leaves and I go to the bathroom. While in there I have the most horrible thought. I feel like it is not going to happen--they won’t let it and maybe I should just tell them to do a section on me now and get it over with. I don’t know what came over me--I felt so awful. When I came out of the bathroom, I wasn’t going to say anything, but did tell Dh and the midwife (who became our doula as soon as we walked in the hospital) what I had been thinking. And you know, I can’t remember what they said but it must have worked!
Then, wonderful news, at 7 p.m. there was a shift change and we got the most wonderful nurse! I really think that if the other nurse had stayed I wouldn’t have been able to do it she was sooo awful. Anyway, I really wanted to walk and asked the new nurse if this would be ok. She said sure and so all three of ustook off down the hall and walked and I think that it really helped. We walked for about 40 minutes--it sure didn’t seem that long. Then we came back to the room and got hooked to the monitor and everything fine. I believe that I was checked then and I was 7 c.m. Nurse said that the other nurse surely was wrong--I’m pretty sure she was--she was horribly rough and had huge hands! At this point, I don’t know what came over me, but I was very tired and the pain seemed to be getting so much worse. I asked for something for the pain. I really had not wanted to do it, but I just don’t know what came over me. They did give me a shot of something and the midwife seems to think that is what got me over the edge. I was having a horrible time relaxing during the contractions--just kept tensing up and I know that does not help. The medication lasted about half an hour and then, BAM, the pain was full strength again. BUT, I don’t know the time frame, finally I was 10 cm. and they were getting the “vaginal birth cart” ready. That really helped my frame of mind. I don’t remember having an “urge to push”, but once I did, WOW! Amazing the pressure that was taken off my back! It was amazing--and I really can’t believe how hard the pushing was. I remember pushing with what I thought was everything I had and everyone kept yelling, “Push, Push” and I’m thinking, What? I am! sOB kept coming in on and off and saying things like oh, this isn’t going well, or baby doesn’t like that, etc. Stupid fool--I think I’d have pushed her out sooner if not for his idiot comments. I pushed in so many positions--we started pushing in a sitting up position (midwife’s notes said lithotomy, but I was almost sitting straight up so I don’t like to call it that--felt much better than lithotomy), then squatting, then back to sitting up. And the FHR monitor kept sliding off and we had to reposition it all the time which was a real pain. Stormy’s heart rate started to go down a little bit just as sOB was coming in the room and he started yelling something to the nurse. She said something to him that he had to get our approval first and he told her to forget and and get what he needed. Turns out he put in one of those nasty scalp monitors. Her heart rate went right up again. Then after he left the room, midwife suggested that I go on the hands and knees position and her heart rate was super all through that pushing stage also. Eventually, I switched back to the sitting position and stayed that way through the rest of the pushing stage--it seemed like I could feel more of what was going on this way. I remember as I was pushing I kept looking in the mirror that nurse had set up and seeing her head start to come out and then when I was done pushing it would go right back in. I was so scared that she wouldn’t come out! Isn’t that crazy? Midwife kept saying that is how it goes and not to worry, but I still did!
sOB finally came in as she was crowning and what an awesome feeling when I felt her head start to come out--I just cannot describe it! sOB said that there was no way baby’s head would fit through and that he was going to make a small cut. Well, he did and I did not know it, but I also tore as her head was coming out. As her shoulders were coming out, doc started to yell at me to reach down and grab her. I reached down and grabbed her under the arms and he yelled at me to push and pull her out. I pushed one last time and out she came and I pulled her out myself and put her on my chest!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The fact that he did this still blows my mind, but I am grateful nonetheless! That was so incredibly amazing! She was on my chest for 2 or 3 minutes before anyone thought to ask what sex she was! Everyone was just so excited. She was so beautiful, I was so tired, it was soo amazing! She was born at 1:37 a.m. after 2+ hours of pushing, weighing 8.8 pounds and 22 inches. They let me hold her for a while and then took her away (right next to my bed) and rubbed her down a little bit and gave her a little oxygen and then she started to cry!
At this point, the sOB says, “Well, you tore after I cut you so now I’m going to have to figure out how to put you back together.” Then he says that I’d better not squirm and wiggle to try and get out of the way because it wouldn’t do any good! Geez! Anyway, Daddy held Stormy (still unnamed at the time) while he sewed me up. We got to be with her for about two hours. I nursed her before they took her away for her bath. I was brought to maternity and she was brought to my room pretty fast--I was impressed. Before I was brought to maternity, a bunch of the nurses came to my room and exclaimed how proud they were of me and that I would show the doctors how short women could vaginally birth! Guess, I’d never heard that short women couldn’t vaginally birth! I wish now that I had made a birth plan to give to the doc, but we were so confident that we wouldn’t be going to the hospital.
I still can’t believe I did it. I can’t believe that I actually labored that long at home, but I know that if I hadn’t, I never would have gotten my VBAC. I would not trade this for anything! I remember thinking the day after that I felt like a truck had hit me--sore muscles I didn’t know I had and sore bottom from the tear, BUT it was nothing like the truck that hit me with my 2 sections. This was wonderful! Don’t really know how badly I tore-midwife said it looked to her like a 3rd degree, but when we asked sOB he actually said, “Oh, I don’t know”! Dh asked him again and he said, “Oh, medium, I guess”. ?
Well, there it is--Stormy’s birth story--77 hours of labor!--I know there are things I’ve forgotten, but
wanted to get it down as soon as I could before I
forgot more! Jaci
From Jaci's Husband:
I’ll just add my short two cents worth and in no way want to take away from Jaci’s wonderful birth story. I still am so amazed at how my wife showed me her true strength and beauty during this birth. She so casually wrote about her labor, but to have witnessed HOW she labored was incredible !!! I mean my God , no sleep , no food (unless me or the midwife forced her) it was like she was on some divine mission to do this right . Awesome !!! I really can’t say enough about how wonderful our midwife-doula was . Even after transporting she was THERE for Jaci and I really wonder what would have happened if she hadn’t been. A very wonderful woman and she just provided Jaci with advice and encouragement when I wasn’t able to or when I got P.O.. While on that subject , I think I was more pissed off at the thought of transporting than Jaci was. Ever since we decided to homebirth , unassisted or not , I took it as my job to protect her and help her make judgments when she became weak or tired and it felt like I had failed her when the decision was made to go to the hospital. I know she had gotten so very tired after 3 days of laboring and yes she did have a small amount of meconium in her fluid, but after reading an article on here just a few days before that about suctioning , I felt that this was no concern . I truly believe Jaci just got too tired to walk around or try the pool again and when the midwife said she was still at 8cm after days of contractions that just did her willpower in.
As Jaci stated above, I knew something was wrong after I had parked the van and came back in to the L&D room but she never told me until later how the nurse was yelling at her and I could tell that the nurse was SO nervous when I came in and the OB showed up . I have never hit a woman but if I had been there when she was screaming in my wife’s face, I may have. The god, oops I mean, ego tripping health care provider, seemed to be doing everything in his power to dash Jaci’s confidence in herself but I think he actually fueled her to overcome her tiredness and doubts about her ability to VBAC .I don’t believe that was his intention. He was not gentle and almost seemed to try and inflict as much pain on her as he could during the VE’s . I’m not sure but the midwife had told us earlier that Jaci was fully effaced except for a “lip” on the back of Stormy’s head and the OB may have forcibly pushed it over her head. I truly hated the way we just had to sit back and let all this happen. It’s like when you walk in those doors-----you know the story. I think that is another reason I was so pissed about transporting , It was so nice and comfortable at home, and then the stark difference when we got THERE. I could just imagine HIM coming in at some point and saying, “Well, I GAVE you the opportunity , but it’s just not going to happen, PREP HER .“ Unfortunately he got his revenge the next day and got to induce 3 women.
OK , so thank God for our next nurse. A young woman who has not had any children but seemed to be both supportive and eager to help Jaci in ANY way she wanted or needed help. As long as the doctor was out of the room WE were a TEAM---our midwife turned doula, the nurse, my Wonderful wife, and myself. When push came to shove we lost some battles, but between us we won some too. And my wife got her VBAC!!!! I was and am still so proud of HER!!!! SHE DID IT!!!! Put that one in your stats, ACOG!
A few things I’ve learned:
Lisa's Birth Story (breech c/s; hospital VBAC; TOL c/s due to doctor panic; hospital VBA2C)
Kmom's Notes on Pregnancy: A good demonstration of why choosing your provider carefully is SOO important!
Lisa had c/s for a breech baby, then an easy hospital VBAC with her usual doctor's partner. She went back to her usual doctor for baby #3, not realizing how VBAC-unfriendly HE was. He forced her to stay in bed, forced internal monitors and an epidural, then started pitocin. She began feeling pain because her epidural wasn't working anymore; he panicked and assumed that meant she was rupturing and rushed her off to the O.R. There was no rupture. She was sectioned again, for no good reason other than the doctor's poor judgment and fears.
When she became pregnant with the next baby, he told her she had to have repeat cesareans from now on. Fortunately, she didn't accept that and eventually found another provider, an OB resident who had worked with midwives in Europe and was more comfortable with VBAC. Lisa kept the faith through weeks of prodromal labor and several "false alarms" at the hospital, deciding to leave rather than stay when she wasn't in true active labor yet. Then, as is often the case with VBAC moms, when she finally went into active labor and got to the hospital, she had the baby very quickly and easily.
Interestingly, she had a kind of "rebirthing" experience afterwards for her son, the second (and unnecessary) c-section, during an operation she had for tubal ligation. She was able to finally emotionally finish that birth that had been stolen from her. It gave her some closure on the experience, finally.
Birth Story
Coda Satori: "The final passage to Enlightenment"
Coda's name means the above. To fully understand our journey to enlightenment, and her story, you have to know her siblings' births, too.
My first son, Gunner, was born in Nov 1994. I was 19, young, and scared of birth. All I had ever heard about birth was that it was painful, horrible, and you'd "never be the same down there." So, imagine my relief when he turned breech at 37 weeks and two attempts at a version failed. Whew. Now I won't feel a thing, I'd have a spinal block, and all would be great. Boy, was I mistaken! I didn't realize that no pain in labor meant months of pain and recovery after a cesarean section, not to mention battles I would have ahead for any other potential children to birth them any other way than surgically.
In 2001, I found myself pregnant with my second child. She was truly a gift. Fresh out of nursing school, my head had been filled with the medical model of birth and interventions, and I did not question them at all, ever. After a lot of research, and some fear, I decided to attempt a trial of labor for a VBAC. My OB wasn't on call that January morning of 02 when my labor
began--and until Coda I didn't realize how lucky I was that he WASN'T there. His partner was way more VBAC-friendly than he was, but I didn't know that at the time. I was a good girl and got my epidural when I was
told--as it was "standard procedure" for a TOL in VBAC, just in case you had to have a section. Isabella was born into this world after 16 hours of labor. My bonding with her was instant, overwhelming and beautiful. I had never known that with my first, but never questioned it, as I didn't have anything to compare it to. Recovery was a breeze, and from then on, I understood the importance of staying away from a cesarean if at all possible.
Birth was so wonderful with Bella that I didn't hesitate to want a VBAC with my third child, born in December of 03. I figured since I did it once, it would be old hat and no big deal to my provider. I carried on with my same OB provider, trusting him fully to take care of me and my baby and our desire for a vaginal birth. Well, he surprised us with a scheduled induction more than a week before my due date. No reason for it medically, just did it because Christmas was coming, and who wants to catch a baby on Christmas? The day before my induction was scheduled, my contractions began. I dutifully called my OB after 1 hour of contractions; after all, I'm still "high risk" for uterine rupture even though my scar was "proven."
I went to the hospital at 10am, and boy, was the environment different. My OB, the one I trusted, was no longer the laid back
doctor in the office, rather he was terrified of a uterine rupture. He put me in the bed, I wasn't allowed up as I was with my first VBAC to walk, assume different positions. Then, the internal
monitors came, "just in case" he said. Then the epidural. Oh yes, that was lovely. It killed all contractions I had had. Pitocin was next on his list; after all, it's dinnertime now, and we can't be waiting on baby all night. The pitocin was started, and the pain crept in my lower left quadrant of my belly. I told the nurse I could feel, it was slight now, but increasing. It was with my contractions that printed out on the screen next to me. Instead of checking my epidural that my husband had said was "unhooked," they called my OB. From then on, we took a nasty turn down a dark road that I am still trying to find my way out of.
Blocking the monitor, the OB said, "Your pain means your uterus is rupturing. We have to get your baby out now or he's going to die. We can't even find his heartrate." (LIE as my medical records showed later.) From that instant, I had more people on me than I could
believe. I was devastated. Crying. My husband asked "Are you SURE this is necessary?" Of course, they said, as they ran me down the hall. I begged the
doctors to leave me awake. I wanted to be present during my son's birth, at least hear his cry. Once in the room, they put my husband in a waiting room. "No time for you to come in, sorry." I was put on the table. Cold and sterile. Green
everywhere. The lights, the sounds. I'm crying uncontrollably. Then, the injection. I feel the meds going in my arm. Tied down, trying to get loose to sever the IV connection so I wouldn't go to sleep. I begged them over and over, "Please, please don't put me to sleep. Please, give it ( the epidural) just a minute. Please." The last words I heard was, "I'm sorry, it'll be over in a moment."
Mason entered that cold sterile room without his mother or father present. Dad met him later on while they were putting me back together.
Then I woke up. In a room, my doctor standing over me. "There was no rupture.
Your uterus was fine, your epidural stopped working. But, thank god we did the section when we did, you just don't know what would have happened.
Your baby is healthy, that's all that matters."
Yes, the famous words. I didn't see my baby for over 8 hours. I didn't touch him or hear his cry. My armband had "female" on it, crossed out and "male" written above it. I didn't even know the gender of my baby. Then they bring him to me, a screaming ball of
fury---"Good luck with this one, he's going to be difficult to console," and he was. And still is, nearly 3 years later. I spiraled into a deep depression over his birth. I mourned for him, for me. for our family. I swore off ever having more children. I didn't want to relive that ever again.
Then a surprise. Exactly 2 years after my son's surgical removal, a baby was conceived
against the odds. When the pregnancy was confirmed, I asked, "Can I VBAC this baby?" With a jaw dropped open, and a furious
shake of his head he said, "No, not after last time, no way, I'm sorry. You'll have a c-section no later than 38 weeks."
I was crushed. Then I started researching. Again. This time, I found ICAN and TONS of studies on VBAMC and rupture rates. I worked through them, day and night. And, at about 16 weeks, I approached my husband with the thought of fighting for a VBAC. To my
surprise, he was FULLY supportive of it, feeling exactly as I did with our son's birth. It was tragic for him, too.
Our path during pregnancy was long and winding. I visited many OBs. None would take my
case---"Too high risk" is what they would say. My OB, the one who cut me, said, "My malpractice insurance won't allow it, they don't even like us to do VBAC at all." With that, I asked if he would be my backup surgeon if I did a homebirth with a midwife. "Sure," he said, "as long as you know the risk." Then, 2 months later, he drops me on the same basis of planning a homebirth. My homebirth MW dropped me, too, because she "feared VBAC ruptures." Devastated again, I researched Unassisted Childbirth. At the same time, I contacted our OB residency here, at the teaching hospital. I pleaded my case with the third-year resident. Luckily, he had worked in Europe with Midwives and where VBAC was more accepted, and agreed to take me on.
Quietly, in those last few weeks, I prepared myself, my husband and children for the possibility of birthing our baby at home, unassisted. All were comfortable with the idea, thankfully. I was no longer trusting of anyone with MD after
their name. After all the lies my old OB told, and reading my medical records of my son's labor and birth, I felt raped by the medical profession. It was a tough pill to swallow, especially being a nurse. I felt I couldn't trust any of them to do right by me, I was afraid. afraid of unnecessary interventions that would lead me to another section. Afraid for them to touch me.
At 35 weeks, contractions began. I was admitted, and I dilated to 4 cm, and 100% effaced. With that admit, I got really afraid. I signed myself out
AMA [against medical advice], and said I'd be back if they got closer, or my water broke. I was terrified of an early baby, of them intervening to make her early, afraid of being cut.
By 36 weeks, I was 6-7 cm dilated, 100% effaced. The next round of contractions came steady at 39 weeks. "You're having your baby today," claimed the doctor. Me, terrified again, knowing my contractions weren't close enough to warrant active labor said "I'm VBAC'ing this baby, no
interventions." Tears streamed down my face. The OB was surprised, but said it was my choice.
Then, he had a RN waiting to escort me to L&D---mind you, this is the SAME resident I had signed out AMA with a few weeks earlier. "I've got to get my other children settled with
their grandparents. Then I'll come right back."
With that, I ran. Out the door, into my car, shaking. crying. I went home. the phone rang 3 times that day from the
OBs at the hospital. And the resident called the next 2, begging me to come in and be checked. I never did.
With that, I hung out for another week. Late on Sept. 12, I laid down with the same ole contractions that I had been having for 5 weeks. Finally, after very little rest, I decided to play with them for a bit, to see what would happen. Now it was past 1 am. I got back up, and sat on my yoga ball. I rolled hula hoop style. I bounced. I wiggled. I leaned forward, and said, "If these are going to stay like this, then I'm getting some SLEEP!." At 3am, I stood up. I felt my baby rotate around, and "Plop!" she hit the pelvic floor. I had the longest most intense contraction at that moment. I knew it was on. This was it. I paced the house for a bit, then woke my husband. No matter how hard I tried, I could not get myself comfortable with letting go at home, and birthing my baby alone. I still had some fears, and heaven above had some more lessons for me to learn.
My DH puttered around the house for what seemed like forever. He lined the van with plastic, grabbed his handy emergency birthing kit, and his emergency childbirth book that had been his bible. I was pacing the floors between contractions saying "I've got ONE minute. One minute to rest. One minute rest." It got me through, and relaxed me during my break; oh how I LOVED the breaks! My MIL arrived around 3:40 am, and we were off.
In the van, Dh said it was cold. I was sweating buckets, hands and knees in the back of the van, face buried in a bucket, throwing up the entire way. I jokingly asked him if he remembered how to catch, and he said it felt like we were in
"one of those movies." He was right, the feeling was strange. I was laughing between contractions, joking with him, and throwing up during them. We arrived to the hospital a little after 4 am, and couldn't get to the door without contractions hitting. Up to triage we went, and the RN on duty said "Why, Lisa, we've been waiting over a WEEK for you to arrive. This is the exact crew that was supposed to care for you last week."
I saw my bed. I stripped as I walked into the door. I just plain didn't care who saw what at that point. Laborland was surrounding me. Faces were faded. Time stood still. I tried to be good and sit in the bed. One check for admitting--"You've got ONE MINUTE to check," I said, during a contraction. They were 2 minutes apart, and she had one minute in my break. "Still 6 and 100%" she said. Then I flipped back over, hands and knees as they tried to attach the monitor. "Now Lisa, I am all for you pushing this baby out, but I've got to monitor her." I said "Yes, I am here so you can monitor her. I can birth her on my own, but can't surrender to labor and monitor at the same time." A bit stunned, she agreed. I stood up, with dh fussing, "Get in the bed, so they can monitor." I snapped back, "She can monitor me FINE right here. I have to stand. I have to." They all agreed, and held the monitor in place as I stood by the
bed, leaning over it.
Off to my L&D room we went, 3 doors down. That walk was the longest walk of my life. During that walk, I tried to strip off the houserobe they threw over me multiple times. The poor nurses kept trying to keep my modesty, but I was HOT and didn't care who saw me. They laughed and said I was a riot, and tomorrow I would care. I went from 6-just a lip. I saw the bathroom, and tried to get in there, "I've GOT to go!" I said. "Oh, no, we are not fishing your baby out of the toilet," the RN said. I got to the bed, and said, "I think I'll have the narcotic now, thank you, no epidural." Famous transitioning words, I know, and knew it then, too, so the gesture was sort of half hearted. One last check--"just a lip and plus 3, you're having her your way, all natural, no time for meds." "Oh, OK, then," was all I could say. I wasn't upset with that thought at all.
The room, went into a manic state of activity. 13 people--residents, attendings,
nurses, etc, all standing back and watching. My resident was Dr. P. She was a dream, a midwife in MD clothing. "Lisa, I can catch this baby any way you need to push her out. Tell me how you want to push, and I'll catch." I think I told her I LOVED her at that moment, and I did. A few more contractions, and the nursery nurses arrived. "OK, now, we're not ready, but everyone is here. I can break your water now if you want." I said "NO, I'm having a contraction." With that, she stood up. My water broke all on its own. Bed still intact, me in my tank top ( I'd stripped off my bottoms upon entry) no IV, I felt the strongest urge to push. I shouted "I've got to push!" and they of course, said "No, let me check... Oh, there she goes, too late now! She's crowning!" Seems I pushed anyway.
Then, my contractions fell silent. For what felt like an eternity to me. I remember clinging on to DH's hands and his neck, saying over and over, "I'm afraid. I'm afraid." Of what, I don't really know. DH said "You're doing wonderfully. And, if anything should go wrong, and it won't, you're in the best place for that to happen. It's OK." Then, the resident said, "Lisa, we've got to think about really pushing this baby out, her heartrate is really low right now." I remember making DH check the monitor, too, because, let's face it, I still just didn't trust them to tell me the truth. He confirmed what the Resident had stated. "OK, next contraction, I will." With that, a contraction finally welled up, and I pushed with all I had. No counting. No telling me how, no interference. I shouted "Ring of fire, oh my God,
she's crowning" and the OB looked surprised and said, "Yes, that's it!" I pushed more, same contraction. I felt the entire pelvic cavity open wide, it was the strangest feeling in the world. I felt head (pop!), shoulder, shoulder, body (plop!), and there she was. Perfect. Peaceful, looking at me, I got to touch her first, dry her off. No tears for her, just quiet and alert, perfect and peaceful.
I cried. And cried. "Thank you. thank you so much. You have NO IDEA how HARD I had to fight for her, for her birth." The resident who caught her said, "Sweetie, you just fought all of ACOG and WON!" I sobbed more....forever it seemed. I said, " I birthed my daughter. I did it my
way," over and over. The crowd cheered for us, and gave us congrats, as they walked out the door for our bonding.
A few hours later, we were transferred to the postpartum floor. Here I met with the resident I ran from (TWICE) and he said they were waiting in the OB O.R. just in case something went wrong. I was surprised to learn this, but also glad that they didn't tell me beforehand, nor ever let on that they would do that, and glad that they did have my interests at heart, not just
their own or their risk manager's. Later on, the Attending OB on call the week prior came to meet me, it seems my birth was a "big deal" in the hospital, one not seen very often, with such determination, or so I was told. She said that she was one waiting on me over a week ago, and that I DID make the right call by not going in. She said, "You obviously knew your body, and knew you weren't in active labor, and not coming in protected your choice of an intervention-free birth. We were all very worried about you, and are proud to finally meet you. Congrats on your birth." The day was filled with meetings like these, big grins with shocked looks of "Wow, she actually did it." I couldn't have been happier.
I had decided a long time ago that Coda would be our finale. She is our last baby. So, I stayed over in the hospital one more day to have a tubal ligation to be sure. In the OR, I met the same resident who caught Coda, as well as her attending and a few more residents I had met along the way. My triage nurse down there told me of HER amazing VBAC story~ it was 30 years ago, her first was born from a classical incision. Her second, chose her own day, somewhat early. She birthed her baby naturally, without complication, with her
doctors staring dumbfounded---because with a classical incision her risk of rupture was
higher. I asked her if she regretted it at all, and her response was "Not a chance, never a moment."
And a big grin came over her face.
As I was wheeled into the OR, a strange thing began to happen. I had not set foot into an OR since the surgical birth of Mason. Suddenly, memories came flooding back to me. The medication went into my arm to make me sleepy, and I began to sob again, uncontrollably. In a drunken but very much awake state, I begged them not to put me under, not to cut me. I cried and cried more. I wanted to birth my baby, my son. According to the
doctor, I begged them to let me push! Please, let me push. And, so, someone (a man,
can't remember his face, but remember him) sat me up on the table. He dried my eyes, and told me it was OK. They told me I could push. I remember pushing. I know I peed everywhere when I pushed. And when I awoke, I was looking for my baby. Not my new daughter, but Mason. The doctors came back to me. They didn't have a dry eye and were very subdued. They asked me if
I was OK, and I said "No." "Are you confused?" "Yes. I want my baby."
Somewhere, after that, I realized where I was, and what I was doing. Then I realized, I was given a chance to relive a terrible moment in my life, and given the chance to push, instead of being cut. For me, this was the hardest thing to deal with, the unexpected emotions. My mind and heart trying to regain something that was stolen, in a moment that was full of peace from a successful natural birth of one, closed the circle on the sad birth of her brother.
In the end, all of the blood, sweat, tears and fears led me to Coda, and my Satori, my enlightenment. Her birth healed me in ways no one else on this earth ever could, helped me heal my heart, and bond even more with my son. The path was long, it was hard, and full of unknowns, fears and faith. I had to surrender all of myself to a higher power, and have faith that she would come into the world naturally, peacefully, and gently. I had prayed that I could do it unassisted, on faith alone, but, heaven had another lesson for me, and another shot at healing, and I think that is what lead me to the hospital. I regained some faith in the upcoming OBs in treating a patient as an individual, with feelings and needs, and not just a potential malpractice suit. I didn't trust them, not one bit, but, in the end, they stood back and provided me with support that I wanted, without bullying me into
their will. I think there are still good OBs out there, and until this I felt that all were bad. I believe I also had something to teach them, and I feel like they did learn; I prayed every day that the end would be SO quick there would be no backing out, no getting meds, no room for intervention. That is exactly what I got, and I am thankful.
Megan's Story (failed induction, c/s; ERCS; PROM, induction, hospital VBA2C)
Kmom's Notes: Megan planned a very non-interventive 3rd birth, but after her water broke and 30 hours had passed without labor, she and her providers chose to induce labor in the hospital. However, despite a change of plans from what she had most wanted for her birth, she persevered in making all her choices herself from an informed and empowered place, and was still able to have a VBA2C, despite less than ideal circumstances. This just goes to show that even unexpected occurrences don't have to "doom" a VBAC or keep a person from being empowered during her labor and birth.
Birth Story
In 1996 I had my first c/s after two days of cervidil, much frustration, disappointment and fear. I was about 41 weeks, it was a holiday weekend coming up and I hadn't yet grown a spine enough to stand up for myself. I cried after almost every prenatal visit as the dr. looked at and spoke to my husband instead of me. I thought that was normal, just to be endured. After my c/s I remember a woman giving me the phone number of a woman who had also had a cesarean "in case I wanted to talk" -- it was all I could do to not throw up on her. I was FINE, thank you very much. Talk about ingratitude to quibble about how the baby came out when one is blessed with the miracle of all miracles. Oh, how things changed....
When I got pg again I figured if I changed drs I would be fine. A woman OB seemed to be the answer. I wanted a VBAC and she agreed to let me (?) try to labor. However as it got closer to the due date she backed further and further away from our original understanding. She even said at one point that my cervix "only accepted business one way" and was incapable of opening and passing a baby. I had no social support for a VBAC. My husband was frightened beyond belief after the first experience and my mother is a nurse. I relented at 39 weeks and had an ERCS. This is quite possibly one of the monumental turning points of my life.
During the c/s my OB without my permission gave me a complimentary tummy tuck taking off four inches of sagging skin and repeatedly asked me (although we had already covered this in prior visits) if I didn't want to change my mind and have my tubes tied. My sweet baby supposedly aspirated amniotic fluid and was confined to the nursery. It was only after I got up out of bed (six hours post-op) and threatened to WALK to the nursery that they brought a wheelchair for me. I did not see my newborn (save that brief glimpse in the OR) until he was seven hours old. I did not hold him until he was over twelve hours old and he was only permitted (?) to come out of the nursery when I threatened the next day to pack my clothes and take my baby home AMA (yeah for the growth of the spine!!!). The hospital pediatrician NEVER came to see me or tell me about the status of my baby. My newborn never developed any complications except the PTSD of having been abandoned, poked and denied food.
As fate would have it my SIL got pg and decided to birth with midwives at a birth center [the next year]. She took me to a few prenatals and invited me and my boys to be at the birth. My whole life changed. The midwives became my friends, the birth was miraculous in its simplicity and I was on fire. When I became pg again I sought out every midwife and birth center in my area. I was sooo depressed. There was NO ONE with whom I felt comfortable. And so I did the logical thing. I had shadow care with OB #2 and drove 6 hours each direction to have prenatals with the midwives my SIL used. Luckily for me we moved closer to the midwives (and far from the OBs) and my life got a little simpler. Because I was a VBAC I had to see their back-up dr. I told him right off the bat that I really didn't like his profession one bit (the spine strikes again) and would always use my midwives as help in my decision making process.
At 43 weeks pregnant my water broke and after 30 hours of no
contractions I was induced. It was not the birth I had planned (as were none of the others) but it was perfect. I was part of every decision, I was
accountable for my own experience, I stood up for myself (even when the on-call dr took my husband out of the room and told him that it was
un-husbandly of him to let me continue). I had an amnio-infusion, I had an epidural (on the
counsel of my midwife) and I also had a VBA2C. Twelve hours later I left the hospital, drove two hours home and slept in my own bed with my new baby
right beside me.
I now teach those kinds of childbirth classes I could never find and was loathe to take. My message to my moms is this-- you can have all the plans and
expectations you want BUT if you do not put into place the mechanisms to achieve those plans (doulas, education, exercise, nutrition, relaxation,
midwives, social support...the list goes on) there is little chance of getting what
you want. Of the moms I have had in my classes very few (one so far) has had a c/s. The problem I am encountering is that many of the women who
NEED my class don't take it. They remind me of myself before my first c/s, thinking that knowledge would get me through. Consequently, I hear their
horror stories afterward. Now, I would like to offer them some sort of place for
talk and support.
Jer's Story (footling breech, c/s; induction for macrosomia, fetal distress, "failed" TOL c/s; Unassisted VBA2C)
Birth Story
Like all VBACs, this journey began long before this pregnancy. My first child, my daughter, Rhiannon, was a c/s due to her position: double footling breech with triple nuchal cord. My second child, my son Gareth, was a CBAC-- a c/s after a long, hard struggle to VBAC. I was abandoned at 41 weeks by my "midwife" (I hate to dignify her with that title); I was induced with pitocin, labored hard and hellishly for 17 hours (12 unmedicated), and finally ended up with a c/s under general anesthesia for iatrogenic fetal distress.
Both my babies were "macrosomic"-- Rhiannon weighed 9 lbs 5 oz, and Gareth was exactly one pound larger. The midwife who betrayed me panicked because of my son's predicted size-- she convinced herself, and me, that I couldn't possible birth such a "monster." I'm proud to report that I can indeed-- and did!
The birth was unbelievable. It was AMAZING! We planned a homebirth to avoid all the crap we'd been put through in hospital with Gareth. I wouldn't trust an OB as far as I could throw one, and these days I feel pretty much the same about midwives. So we decided to do it ourselves. Unassisted pregnancy and birth isn't for everyone, but I wouldn't choose anything different now.
It was great. I did my own prenatal care-- monitored my blood pressure, measured my growth, really watched my diet (since nutrition is the MOST IMPORTANT aspect of growing a healthy baby). No one to bug me about useless tests that I would refuse anyway. No cups to pee in and carry around (how degrading!). No one demanding I schedule another c-section!
I was a healthy as a horse-- something I couldn't help but be smug about when the 18-year-old I worked with who was also pg, but having traditional OB care, ended up on bed rest and then had to go to the hospital for possible pre-eclampsia (she's fine now, delivered a healthy boy in hospital-- medicated vaginal birth). I worked (at a library) right up until the day I went into labor-- Wed Sept 7, 2005.
I left work at 2 pm, went to my mom's apartment for some quiet time, then headed home at 5. I stopped to get some gas-- reached down to "pop" my fuel lid-- and felt something else pop instead! I stood up and immediately confirmed it: yup, my water had broken!
I got back into the car and drove straight home. I had a couple contractions-- nothing bad-- but I was good and soaked when I finally parked in my driveway. I went into the kitchen and found my husband, John, washing dishes. "I need you to go get some gas," I told him. "My water broke."
John jumped immediately into freak-out mode. I got him calmed down and convinced him that he wasn't going to have to catch the baby right there in the kitchen. Rupture of membranes doesn't automatically mean labor, after all-- most women go into labor within 24-48 hours after their waters release, but it could still be days.
Nothing much happened after that for several hours. The leaking was annoying-- Rowan wasn't engaged, so his head didn't stop the flood. He did move down a little, so it was a bare trickle rather than Niagara Falls. I had a few contractions, but still nothing to indicate I was going to give birth anytime soon. I went about my life-- ate some supper, watched TV, got the kids fed and bathed and tucked in. John and I went to bed at 10-- but I didn't stay there long.
My contractions suddenly picked up noticeably. Lying down-- even sitting-- was uncomfortable. I wanted to be up doing pelvic tilts-- that felt better. Hmm. This might really be labor, then....
At 10:30, I woke John up. "I need you to fill the pool," I said. "I'm getting in the shower." We had a kid's "fishy pool" (inflatable wading pool, about 2 1/4 feet deep and 5' across) set up in the living room. It already had some water in it, but I needed hot water-- as it happened, HOT water!
Water is *wonderful* to labor in. It's not called "the midwives' epidural" for nothing! Once it was half full or so, I climbed in-- bliss! Floating through contractions was so much easier than standing through them-- although I ended up standing up through most of my labor, I think because Rowan's position and descent demanded it. I got into a pattern-- stand for two or three surges, then float through a couple, then stand again. Get out occasionally to go to the bathroom or get into the shower-- the high-pressure hot water on my back felt good. Mostly I stayed in my pool, though-- and John added some more boiling (!) water every once in awhile.
I had no concept of time. I'd made John turn the clock so I couldn't see it-- I didn't want to stare at it all night. I'd jokingly said, early on, "Wouldn't it be great if the kids could wake up in the morning and meet their new baby? And I could call Mama and tell her to just stop by on the way to work?" (I hadn't told my mom and sister I was in labor-- I know them; they'd be up worrying all night.) I was expecting to be there for the long haul-- my labor with Gareth lasted 17 hours. I figured I had a long way to go.
John set up a camp bed in the living room and slept as much as he could, so I spent most of the night laboring alone in the dark, like a cat. It was marvelous. Not easy-- it's hard work; that's why it's called LABOR. ;) It was intense. Not painful-- I can't call it painful. But it's... inevitable. Inescapable. Uncontrollable. You can't get away. I kept thinking of that kids' game, "Going on a bear hunt"-----"Can't go over it, can't go around it, have to go through it!"
At some point-- John says it was around 1 or 1:30 am-- I realized I was starting to push with each contraction. "Can't be," I told myself. "It's too soon! I'll swell my cervix shut!" But I couldn't help it-- I was pushing. Rather, my body was pushing, with me along for the ride!
I got up and went to the bathroom. Believe it or not, the toilet is one of the best places to labor, because we're already so used to "opening up and letting go" there. ;) I spent a few contractions sitting there, then went back to the pool. By now I was roaring through each contraction-- howling like a mama wolf! It's wonder I didn't wake the kids up!
Surge. Roar. PUSH! Breathe. Again. And again. And again... and again... again...
On and on and on. How much can a person take? This is silly-- I didn't have to do this! But then I remembered what a former yoga teacher once told me: "The mind gives up before the body." And on I went.
I didn't feel I was making any progress (although it looked much different from John's point of view, he tells me!). I started crying. "I can't," I wailed. "No more. I can't do it anymore."
"Yes, you can," he said firmly. "You can. You ARE. You're almost there."
With the next contraction, I felt some burning-- ring of fire? That's a sign that baby is crowning, that the head is almost out. Oh, surely not...
I reached down-- and stared at John. "There's a head there! Right there!!" And there was-- a hard, smooshy, wrinkly, wet head. Rowan was crowning-- I was about to give birth!! John felt it too, and his expression was awestruck. "You're almost done!"
With the next surge, I pushed-- and the head was out to the ears. Then I waited. And waited. The next contraction seemed a month away! That was the only truly painful moment of my entire labor-- having a head halfway out of your body STINGS!!
Finally-- contraction. PUSH!! And-- I had a baby in my arms!!!!! Rowan was born, and I caught him, with John assisting!! WE DID IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
John checked his watch: 4:33 am. I couldn't believe it. 5 1/2 hours from the time hard labor hit, I was holding my baby. INCREDIBLE!!!!!
At 6:30 we woke the kids up. "Come meet your new baby brother!" They were amazed-- talk about the Stork arriving in the night and leaving a little stranger! Then John called my mom: "You might want to stop by on your way to work and meet someone..." My mother and sister came at 7:15 or so, with a box of Krispy Kremes. Just as I had dreamed!
We took Rowan to the pediatrician when he was 6 hours old, where he was pronounced "perfect"-- all 10 pounds, 5 ounces of him!! Exactly the same size as my "impossible-to-deliver monster." We even went to Walmart that afternoon. That was fun: "Aww, look, a baby! How old?" "Um... 8 hours." "WHAT??!?!?!??!?" It was hilarious... and empowering!
I did have one complication-- when I delivered the placenta, it came out in pieces-- and it didn't all come out. I wound up with an infection and had to have a D&C on Sat, then spent a couple days in hospital getting IV antibiotics. That wouldn't have happened if I'd transported right away, but I just kept hoping it would resolve on its own. But all's well that ends well-- it's a terribly rare complication, and it was probably caused by my previous c-sections. It certainly won't stop me from freebirthing again, if I should be blessed with another pregnancy! And Rowan wasn't admitted, so I kept him with me and nursed him, so we avoided formula too. Yay! :D
It was amazing, truly. I'm so glad we stayed home. I got up and took a shower 20 minutes after the birth. I could pick up not only my infant but my toddler afterward without worrying that my guts might fall out. Sure, I was a little sore-- but it was NOTHING next to recovering from major abdominal surgery.
Don't EVER let anyone tell you that c-sections are "the easy way." I wouldn't trade my unmedicated birth for all the anesthesia on the planet. It was phenomenal!!
All in all, it was a fabulous experience-- it took lots of reading, soul-searching, researching, learning, thinking, and praying, but it was the right choice for me. I'm so glad I did it. Till now I felt like I'd had two kids without ever giving birth-- sometimes I wondered if I was a babysitter, and Rhiannon and Gareth's "real mom" would show up someday to claim them. Now I know for certain that Rowan is mine-- I'm that real mom now. And I can wear my button with pride: I'm a VBAMC Mama!
Lisa W's Story (FTP c/s; "failed" TOL c/s; two home VBA2Cs)
Birth Story
My kids are older now; my first c-sec was in 1987 (boy, 8 lbs 2 oz-now 17 years old and how the heck did that happen?).
I thought that I did everything right but still got fed into the hospital medical system and ended up with FTP [failure to progress]. My Family Doctor was very supportive of VBAC even at the moment of the first c/s.
But when I was in labour again 15 months later, I found myself fighting the nurses and the docs even though I thought I had negotiated myself out of restrictions like continuous external fetal monitoring, IV, and NPO [nothing by mouth]. One thing I hadn't realized, VBAC women had to be done in 24 hours or they got another c/s. I got to 6 cm, I was fine and the baby was fine, but the policy said...I tried to fight it but you just can't fight in labour...So I had another section (girl, 7 lbs 14 oz-now 16 years old). I was very sad but more importantly, I was mad. I knew that I could have had my little girl vaginally, with support. So I don't birth quickly; we were FINE, a few more hours and she would have come out just fine.
I had started attending a c-section support group after my 1st- I thought that I was going crazy and needed support coping. I took over the facilitation of the group not too long after that and we switched our focus to include VBAC support as well as c-section recovery and support. Then I discovered midwives; they weren't regulated but my local midwife did agree to support me and I found a General Practitioner about 45 minutes away who opened my eyes to Home Birth.
So, 2 1/2 years later, my second beautiful daughter was born vaginally, at home after about 48 hours of labour, 24 of them what I would call hard work. She was 7 lbs and is starting high school next week. By this time I had started attending births to support other women and started teaching prenatal classes.
My last baby we jokingly call our freebie, because midwives (in Canada) were regulated in 94 and so when he was born in June 94, we didn't have to pay for our midwives. He was 9 lbs and the labour was 24 hours. He was also posterior and I had 5 hours with a premature urge to push that was really frightening. That baby turned 10 this year.
In 1998, I entered MW school and in 2004, I graduated as an Registered Midwife. I am still passionate about VBAC and about supporting women's choices. It has been a long hard journey to get to where I can support women as I am drawn to, but this July I received funding for a new midwifery practice in my hometown just east of Toronto, Ontario, and we have created a new model with serious consumer support and input.
I welcome any woman who is serious about having a vbac and who can to come. If we just have to keep having VBACs one at a time, so be it. But we will see women's choices for gentle, respectful births fulfilled.
Bethany's Story (cord prolapse, emergency c/s; ERCS; hospital VBA2C)
Birth Story
Below is my VBA2C birth story. Even though nearly six weeks have passed, I feel like I'm still processing it all. My first section was for cord prolapse (I got to five centimeters when the cord slipped); my second was an ERCS because I was too scared to try labor again.
On Wednesday at 4:30 AM (the day before my due date), I woke up and realized that I was having some fairly strong and consistent contractions. I got up and started timing them. They were, on average, five minutes apart. They were strong, but manageable. I logged into my email, tied up some loose ends at work, etc. As I started to move around the house, I noticed them getting stronger--I had to stop a few times to let them pass and concentrate on working through them. The strangest thing was that I would feel a vibration in my uterus before actually feeling the pain of the contraction. Mentally, I was ready for labor. I had felt apprehension about going into labor for several weeks, but when it actually happened, I felt like I was ready.
I fixed myself some scrambled eggs for breakfast, took a shower, got the kids ready to go to my in-laws house. The contractions continued to get stronger and were three to five minutes apart. I didn't want to go to the hospital too soon and would have stayed home all morning, only we were expecting a huge snow/ice storm and I didn't want to get stuck at home with a very nervous dh. So, I told him we'd head downtown and kill some time by going to the library and walking around. The car ride was difficult as I had a hard time getting on top of the contractions. Fortunately, the roads were still clear and the traffic was light. The library is across the street from the hospital. As soon as I got there, the contractions became very strong and I had to stop and really work at getting through them. We were at the library for only a minute or two when I knew it was time to head across the street.
I got to the hospital around 11AM and as I was peeing, my plug gave way and then my water broke. Not a huge gush, but a steady stream of amniotic fluid mixed with the plug. The fluid looked brownish, but I couldn't tell if it was blood from the mucus plug or meconium (turns out it wasn't mec). I finished getting my gown on and went back to the nurse. She got me hooked up to the monitors. Being on my back was terribly painful. I could hardly stand the contractions and had to wiggle my hips side to side to get through them. I was checked and relieved to hear that I was at 4 centimeters. The baby was still high. He was floating and had not yet dropped. I wasn't surprised to hear this because he still felt high to me. Throughout my pregnancy, the baby was persistently ROA.
The nurse took my history and when I told her I had two previous sections, she asked if I was going to have a repeat and I said, "no, I'm having a VBAC." She looked at me like I was crazy. Later, another nurse told me that the hospital used to see a lot of VBAC patients, but they rarely have them anymore because the "doctors are afraid of getting sued." By the time I got to my Labor and Delivery room, they wanted me in bed and on monitors. I said that I needed to stand up. There was no way I could be on my back. As soon as they got my IV in (it took the nurse THREE very painful tries to get it in correctly) and got my antibiotic going (I was GBS positive), I stood up next to the bed. This is where I spent most of my labor--standing or leaning over the side of the bed.
To get through the contractions, I would sway my entire body side to side, move my hips from side to side or do a "hula dance" type of movement. My goal was to have a med-free natural labor. I was told several times to let the nurses know when I was ready for my epidural. I just politely told them that I wasn't ready for it yet. But, boy was I tempted!! My pain was so intense and unrelenting that I kept thinking how the epi would have made it all go away. I kept thinking, one call and this would be so much better. I kept reminding myself that if I gave into the epi, my VBAC chances would be over and that I would very likely put myself on the road to another C-section. It turned out that I couldn't have had one even if I did ask for it. When my OB examined me, he said that due to the baby's high station, he wanted to hold off on the epi so the baby could come down some more. But that still didn't stop me from thinking about that epi!
I remember the contractions coming so quickly. They were long and intense and I started to get very vocal. I don't remember many VEs, but I did get internal monitors and that was very, very painful. The external monitors kept loosing the contractions and heartbeat so they wanted to place an internal uterine monitor and one on the baby. My nurse had trouble getting the uterine monitor on and I could barely get through the contractions (of course, I was flat on my back while she put them in). I became very vocal and tried to moan through the contractions. But, really, nothing helped. Only when I stood back up could I work through them. I also thought the uterine monitor was very painful once it was in place. I think it made my labor harder because now I had to deal with that pain as well as the contractions.
It seemed like an eternity passed while I labored next to the bed, swaying my hips and working through each contraction. In reality, it was less than an hour. But, I broke down and asked for a shot of Nubain. I didn't know at the time that I was transitioning and I honestly thought I was going to loose my mind. I lost all confidence in myself. The pain was just so intense and my contractions were constant. I would barely catch my breath and another one would be on top of me. I feel bad about getting that shot. (Just think, if I had held out for only 15 more minutes or so, I would have done it without any drugs.)
Suddenly, I was pushing!!! It was completely beyond my control and I couldn't have stopped it even if I tried. I gave three good pushes and it felt good. I worked through a few more contractions and there it was again--I was pushing. I gave another three good pushes. The nurse got me back in bed for a VE and everyone was surprised to discover that I was complete.
One thing I didn't expect to do during labor was keep my eyes closed. It was terribly distracting to me when I opened my eyes, so I kept them closed almost the entire time. At one point, my dh told me to open my eyes and look out the window--it was snowing.
Soon after getting back in bed, I started pushing. I was on my back, and my dh and the nurse were holding up my legs. I was having lots of trouble pushing this way. First of all, I was just drenched in sweat--even the palms of my hands were sweaty and I couldn't get a good grip on my legs to provide enough traction. Also, being on my back was very uncomfortable. I flipped over and tried getting on all fours. But, it was a modified all fours because I was leaning over the raised top section of the bed. This felt comfortable and I pushed for over an hour this way. I could tell that I was making progress. I felt the baby coming down, but then I began to think, why isn't he coming down anymore? It was like I couldn't get him to move down any farther.
So, I flipped back over and tried on my back again without much success. I pushed with all my might and couldn't get the baby to move down. At this point, I should have gotten out of the bed and tried squatting or at least standing up. But, to be honest, I just didn't have the strength anymore. I really agonize over this because I just *know* that I could have done it if I has just gotten out of the damn bed. Instead, my doctor came in and examined me and watched me push though some contractions and said that the baby was stuck behind my pelvic bone and the he wanted to try the vacuum.
I was quickly becoming disappointed with the way things were turning out. I also began to panic a little and thought that the baby would never come out. Those kind of irrational thoughts kept going through my mind. I also kept thinking, just say you want the section and get this over with. It was like a little voice was telling me, you can do the section, you've done them before and know what to expect. This is new and scary and who knows what is going to happen, so call it all off and ask for the surgery.
I somehow managed to get a grip on myself and focus. I had been preparing and thinking about this moment since the second I had my ERCS three years ago and I wasn't about to give up. God knows where I found the strength, but somehow it was there when I needed it most. I remember pushing with all my might while they were getting ready for the vacuum. I thought maybe I could get him out on my own after all. But, he wouldn't budge.
So, everything was set up and, even with the vacuum, it took several contractions before he crowned. It seemed like he was coming out so slowly. I would push and make a little progress. Then, we'd all wait until another contraction and I'd push some more. I thought he would come out all at once, so I was surprised when first the top part of his head came, and then a few minutes later came the next part of his head, then several more minutes and several more pushes came the rest of his head. I just remember pushing so hard to get him out. I tore badly as he came out and I think I felt every tear. But, what a relief when he was born!! It was incredible. I opened my eyes and there he was!! Holden was born at 2:52 pm.
I had several second degree tears and it took my doctor about 45 minutes to do the stitches. I was glad that I had torn instead of getting cut. I remember telling my OB a couple times to just let me tear and that I didn't want an episiotomy. It's a good thing that I didn't get cut--I would have torn anyway (in the opposite direction of the episiotomy, according to my OB).
Looking back, I have mixed emotions about the birth. I am overjoyed that I went into labor on my own, had a vaginal birth, didn't get an epidural even when I wanted it, and pushed my son out into the world. I am also proud of myself for facing my fears, insisting on the VBAC and not scheduling the ERCS (which is what my friends and family all wanted me to do). I spent my entire pregnancy planning and educating myself for this birth.
On the other hand, I am sad about the vacuum. I had wanted to do it all on my own.
I knew that by going to the hospital that I would be facing lots of interventions and that it would be difficult for me to avoid them. Things like the antibiotic for the GBS, the monitors, the IV,--I was ok with all of that. But, I wasn't prepared for the vacuum. In my mind, it was going to be all or nothing--a natural birth or a section. I didn't prepare myself for something in between. Towards the end, I kept thinking, well, at least the vacuum is better than the section, at least they aren't prepping the OR. But still. If I had only gotten out of bed, I'm sure I could have done it on my own.
Even with regrets, I am very happy with my VBAC and would do it again. It's been easier recovering from the vaginal than the sections, but I was surprised at how sore I felt after delivery. Every muscle in my entire body ached. And those afterpains!Holy cow, did they hurt. Also, the stitches took longer to heal than I expected and were very painful. Even six weeks after the birth, I still feel some pain and discomfort. However, my overall recovery has been much faster compared to the sections.
Well, that's it--the good (the VBAC), the bad (the Nubain) and the ugly (the vacuum). Thanks for listening to my story.
Kristin's Story (post-term induction, malposition, c/s; crashed during ERCS; hospital VBA2C)
Birth Story
Baby #1: My first baby was 2 weeks overdue and I agreed to induction. With admittance into the hospital, I told them very precisely that, although I had not done this before, I knew that this baby had not turned and dropped into my pelvis. He was big and I could feel him in my throat (kidding, of course!). They told me not to worry, that would happen with induction. Perhaps, if they had allowed me to move about! They hooked me up to IV and monitors and I was confined to bed for the duration of induction!
They used pitocin and I progressed beautifully, without an epidural, throughout the day and into the evening. I got 'stuck' at 9 or 9.5 cm...for how long? I don't know. They increased the pitocin and railroaded me into an epidural. I did not want an epidural because I did not want it to interfere with my ability to push. It didn't take long until I was fully dilated, then they started me pushing. They cut me off from the pain management because it was 'interfering with my ability to push.' (I had choice words for them at this point.) As pushing began, I could tell them that something was not right. The baby had not moved, rotated or descended. It was intensely painful. Not that I thought there wouldn't be pain. I can handle pain. Something wasn't right, and I knew it. I did everything they told me to do for 3.5 hours. They had internal monitoring on the baby. At that point, I said, "cut me." The nurses agreed that it was time. They said baby was stressed. The entire ordeal lasted 19+ hours from start to finish.
It turned out that the baby was at an angle...the doctor said, "He was (oblique) transverse and facing my left thigh. He wasn't going to come out." My 10.5 pound, otherwise-should-have-been-perfectly-healthy baby had a huge, swollen head with a gigantic sore on it from me doing everything they told me to. My 10.5 pound, otherwise-should-have-been-perfectly-healthy baby boy had a fever and was put on IV antibiotics without our consent. My 10.5 pound, otherwise-should-have-been-perfectly-healthy baby was kept in the level II nursery away from me, being bottle-fed due to lack of suck reflex, as I pumped furiously and in pain, alone in my hospital room. I fisted the bottles containing drops of colostrum and limped all the way to the nursery, dragging my left leg behind me (it was paralyzed for 6 weeks), feeling like some Quasimodo and sad excuse for a mother, spewing venomous disdain for the joyful mothers, wheeling their healthy newborns, whom I passed in the hospital's halls.
I fully believed women can and do birth big babies all the time. I fully believed I would be one of them. Nobody talked to me about optimal fetal positioning, the significance of chiropractic care, or anything else that may be significant to maximize chances for a natural and successful vaginal birth. My mother had two cesareans (her first baby was a placenta previa). My grandmother said she never expected me to vaginally birth because of that. My mother dreaded that I would experience the 'worst of both worlds' and end up with exactly what happened. I, personally, am grateful to have experienced the labor. It gave me confidence in my body. I now had a stronger faith that my body could do exactly what it was designed to do. I successfully labored to 9.5 cm, on pitocin, with no pain management. I knew I could labor.
The recovery was long and painful. I experienced post-traumatic stress, with flashbacks and inability to sleep. I literally jumped and jolted awake as I began drifting off to sleep, with vivid imagery and sensations of the experience. I had post-partum depression, with episodes bordering on psychotic. It took weeks for me and my baby to establish nursing, and, as a result of the cesarean (I now believe), he experienced respiratory problems. It took 6 weeks for the feeling to return to my left leg. For me at the time, the definition of childbirth contained elements bordering on tragic. That's just what it was to me. While it was difficult to go through, the experience was all mine and gave me much to learn from. While some people experience the opposite, the hardship of it all allowed for me to bond intensely with my first baby and for that, I am grateful.
Baby #2: My second baby was an elective repeat cesarean at 39 weeks. I went in with no fears, believing it was perfectly safe.
The nursing staff got me admitted and did all the preliminary work. I received a spinal (as opposed to epidural as I had with my first cesarean) in the OR. They laid me back and prepared to scrub. Soon after they laid me back, I began to feel lightheaded and had difficulty catching my breath. I told the anesthesiologists, thinking it was just because of my position and the heavy baby pressing down on my vessels, etc. Then I felt tightness in my chest. I continued to communicate with the anesthesiologists, thinking it was my duty to communicate to them how I was feeling. It turns out that this gave them better indication of what was happening than the monitors. My blood pressure had dropped severely and I was not responding to their medications which combat the effect. They said it is not uncommon for there to be a dip in blood pressure after receiving a spinal.
They struggled for some time (it seemed like forever) to correct my blood pressure. I would begin to feel a little better, and then it would plummet again, over and over again. Words cannot describe what I was experiencing. I had tightness in my chest, tingling fingers and limbs, difficulty breathing and an overall sense of panic and doom. I heard them call for the crash cart. I began to pray out loud, then realized I could not be dying.I could not leave my husband with two babies! My children needed me. It was all so terrible. My husband saw the whole thing (he was sitting near my head) and says he noticed the monitors and asked, "Is that what I think it is?" He says I flat-lined on the table. Well, my blood pressure did anyway! I never blacked out or anything like that. Anyway, it all happened over a short period of time, because the whole thing only took 45 minutes or so. They were able to stabilize me after some time. I was puking my guts out, as usual, during surgery. The OB just kept doing his thing---get the baby out and close me up.
The anesthesiologist came to my room later to see how I was because he knew how traumatized I was by all this. He said that with a drop in pressure like that, it is said that patients experience a 'sense of impending doom.' Textbook case, apparently. I told him those were choice words, because that is exactly how I felt. My doc says I wouldn't have died because they would have just hung me upside down. O.K., then.
It was awful and obviously brought to light for me the risks of surgery. My recovery was long and hard, as any c-section might be. My blood pressure continued to be low, setting off their alarms in the recovery room. They told me it wouldn't necessarily happen again with an epidural or a spinal. Well, I didn't want to do it again, that's for sure!
Baby #3:
My particular group of care providers does not currently have any policies which do not allow VBAC or VBAMC. I switched doctors within the group more than halfway through my pregnancy, just to have someone on my side that was most supportive of VBA2C. He ended up calling me knowledgeable and opinionated, but said he liked that about me. Said I was more likely to get what I want that way!
Although we had discussed VBA2C, my first doctor was uncomfortable with it and clearly had me pegged for surgery all along. I later learned that she had written on my chart, "schedule elective repeat cesarean," when I had not done so or even consented to such a thing. When I discussed a trial of labor with her, she indicated that if I 'showed up at the hospital and was 9 cm dilated and progressing nicely', she wouldn't make me have a cesarean <in an ideal situation!> She said things like, "Well, we will discuss it more as your due date approaches." She even went so far as to say once that, "Perhaps your baby will be breech, and your decision will be made for you!" <OH, PLEASE!>
Anyway, when the new ACOG guidelines & recommendations came out, I put in a call to both her and another OB within the same group of doctors, whom I had seen before, to discuss their position on VBA2C and the hospital environment in regards to VBA2C. The other guy was actually doing more administrative work and oversees that whole group of doctors. She left a nasty message on my machine that said the appropriate time and place to discuss this is at my next appointment. (There never was a next appointment with her.) The other guy, whom I switched to, spent 10-15 minutes on the phone with me during his lunch discussing my concerns. He said I was not crazy to want a vaginal birth, emphasizing 'informed consent.' He wisely and willingly acknowledged the risks of surgery and the benefits of vaginal birthing. He said they would support me with spirit in my choice to maximize my chances for a successful vaginal birth. He acknowledged the other doc was a bit out of line, but mostly defended her with the informed consent thing.
Truth is I could run into any one of them, including several other docs belonging to that group, upon admittance into the hospital. I did know, though, that if this guy was my primary OB - they would follow his lead on our plan to vaginal birth. So, I had found my guy more than halfway through my pregnancy. At my last appointment with her, that other doc was still looking at me with a blank stare saying, "You mean a vaginal birth?" and her nurse discarded my labor and delivery card with the phone number on it saying, "You won't be needing that." <Yikes.> She seemed to think they wouldn't allow me to try for VBAC. I believe that the first doc would have worked on me to schedule the cesarean, or her fears would have led me in that direction with interventions, etc. She told me that if I were at 40 weeks, she would start pressing me for the surgery.
This guy gave me the support I needed up until delivery. He said, "If I delivered you vaginally today, I'd forget about it tomorrow because your circumstances just aren't that unique. I've delivered women at higher risk than you." Obviously, he had more experience than the other doc, and he was not fearful whatsoever. Another doctor from within that group of doctors delivered the baby without incident/intervention. The nurses only once and momentarily expressed concern with a tone of urgency that, "She's a VBAC!" Otherwise, everything was fine.
I liked his choice of words and I think they would be good, non-offensive words to use with a care provider..."What can we do to maximize my chances for a successful vaginal birth?"
As fate would have it, my original doctor was on rounds at the hospital the morning after I delivered. She did a double take then said, "You did it." (She hadn't seen me for some time as I never went back to her without explanation.)
"Yeah, I did it!" is what I responded, holding my beautiful prize, my vaginally-birthed daughter. There was nothing more to say. Hopefully, she will gain experience from this and not be so fearful in the future for her other patients.
The VBA2C Birth Story:
Exactly two weeks prior to my due date, the doctor reported that I was one cm dilated. One week prior to my due date, he found me to be 80% effaced and three cm dilated. On October 1st , my actual due date, I was the same. I had contractions periodically over the course of two weeks-----nothing organized and nothing to write home about.
On the evening of October 2nd, I felt the baby position herself low in my pelvis. I recall sitting in my chair, relaxed and watching TV with my husband. The baby continued to move and squirm around. There were no contractions associated with this; it seemed to be strictly positional. When I stood up to move about, I experienced significant downward pressure and symmetrical pelvic and groin discomfort....she had engaged in my pelvis! This was significant as I had not experienced this with either of my other pregnancies. Even with induction, Jack was wedged at an angle with his head butting up against my pelvic bone.
October 3rd, I went to see my chiropractor for a much-needed adjustment. I had been sick with a cold for one week and had missed my routine appointment. I sensed that I desperately needed it. On my way home, I cranked up the radio (alone in the car) and rocked out to a heavy metal tune, purging some late-term pregnancy anger and frustration, eliciting tears. It was kind of a strange and out-of-character (hormonal?) experience as I do not even listen to that stuff anymore! I got home and washed the car with the boys. It was a nice day; breezy, but warm and sunny. It was our 5th wedding anniversary and I hired the neighbor girl to watch the boys so Bob and I could go out for dinner. After a disagreement of sorts, we finally left for dinner. We stayed close to home.
During dinner, I started to have pretty severe lower abdominal cramping. I thought to myself, "I'll be damned if I am leaving now for this to be a false alarm." It was our anniversary and we rarely get out together. We had the sitter at home and I had a dinner to eat! I said nothing and silently worked through the cramping right there at the table. Bob took his time getting us home, driving through some nearby housing developments. It was in the truck that things got to be worth mentioning. I told him about a couple of hard contractions on the way home, but expressed no urgency. I wrote it off; thinking that these contractions (like the others) would subside, too. We arrived home. I paid the sitter and sent her out the door by telling her that the boys just might be coming over tonight. Bob asked if I was having contractions----yes! All the way through dinner and if they keep coming like this, we are going somewhere soon! Now they were coming hard every three minutes. I made a few calls (on my hands and knees), told Bob to load the truck, made a few preparations and we left the house. We settled the boys with the next door neighbors and went on our way.
It is a thirty minute drive to the hospital and the contractions came hard every two minutes the whole way there. I tried not to push, but did a few times because I just couldn't help it...and it felt like the right thing to do! We arrived and Bob parked the truck in the ER zone, fetched a wheelchair and wheeled me through the hospital to admitting (thank God for preadmission forms) and on up to the birthing unit. They wanted to do some preliminary work (yeah, right, a urine specimen? I don't think so, lady!) and to get me undressed. It was difficult to manage this; my husband helped me as I wanted nothing to do with it. I instinctively wanted to work through my contractions on my hands and knees. She checked me and announced, "She's fully dilated to ten centimeters." They scrambled to get me to the delivery room. My water broke when they transferred me from one bed to the next. They noticed meconium in the fluid. They were concerned about this. A nurse called for the doctor. "Is Dr. Shold in-house? She's a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean)!" Oh mercy, here we go, I began to think. I summoned the ability to dismiss the hospital staff's anxiety about the meconium and my VBAC status....after all, I had a job to do.
I pushed for fifteen to twenty minutes. The doctor arrived just in time to deliver the baby. He introduced himself to me when it was done. (Our doula missed it! She arrived in time to support me through the birth of the placenta and the suturing. She held my hand while DH gazed upon our daughter as they did the newborn procedures.) I birthed her head, which was probably the hardest thing I've ever done in my life (now I know what the ring of fire is). I seized a moment of clarity to engage in some positive self-talk, "My body can do this. I have faith in my God-given ability to do this." Then she emerged rather gracefully. She was in perfect position and despite a fast and furious labor, she arrived peacefully.
They placed my wet and slippery newborn on my belly and Bob cut her cord. It was truly a victorious moment. I did it! I marveled at how fast it all happened. We had checked in to the birthing unit at 9:16 p.m. and she was here at 9:51 p.m.! She was almost born in the truck! No drugs, no interventions, no struggles or difficulty. I had a slight natural tear where an episiotomy would have been. Everything went just right. We named her Victoria Elizabeth. She lay in the warmer next to me, not flailing or wailing, just quietly taking things in. It was amazing.
It was weeks later, at home, that my husband and I finally had an intimate moment to reflect upon the experience together. He praised me and told me what an amazing woman he thinks I am for trusting in myself and my body. "You did it, honey," he said with tears in his eyes. "Next time we could do it anywhere!"
This birthing experience, like the others, is a defining moment in my life as a mother and as a woman. I will carry it with me for the rest of my life. After having two cesarean sections, it was my goal to achieve a natural and vaginal birth. Something told me that the birth of this baby, my daughter, would change everything for me. And it did. (Thank you, Jenny of ICAN-online, for my adopted mantra: Next time, universal forces willing, I think the baby will come flying out. Seriously. My instinct tells me so.)
This commitment to attempt a vaginal birth after two previous cesareans involved dedication, hard work and perseverance to stay the course. I thank God for the wisdom, guidance, and faith that I needed to receive His blessings. I express sincere gratitude to all who have supported me along the way; Bob (husband), Allison Caudill (doula), Angie (my online E-pal who is also attempting VBA2C), Dr. Lais (Ob-Gyn for supporting me in VBA2C), Dr. Shold and the labor and delivery team at Mercy Hospital, Drs. Cynthia and Brian Opp (chiropractors at www.oppfamilychiropractic.com, for the Webster technique and optimal fetal positioning exercises with a birthing ball), www.spinningbabies.com, Beth Knudtsen-Spears (Homeopath), all the people at the International Cesarean Awareness Network (for your personal stories, support, advice and inspiration), and to all of my family and friends who offered their support and encouragement.
Lani's Story (c/s for breech; "failed" TOL c/s for FTP and large baby; VBA2C)
Birth Story
My First Birth (00):
I went to my OB for my 37 week appointment and promptly asked if my baby was still head down. During the past week I had a sneaking suspicion she was turning transverse. After a quick check, my doctor assured me she was still head down and that being this late in my pregnancy, I was probably just feeling normal movement...not position adjustments. However, my very next appointment at 38 weeks found that my daughter had turned breech. It wasn't until then that I had ever considered the possibility of needing a c-section. It was quite a blow. Definitely not what I had in mind for my "ideal" birth experience.My 39 week appointment showed her to still be breech and engaged in my pelvis which eliminated the option of trying to turn her around. Also, I was running a fever and starting to dilate. This prompted my c-section to be scheduled for the same day. My daughter was born at a healthy 8 lbs. 13oz., but I had a very rough recovery. Up until my c-section I had never been hospitalized for any reason. I have never had any broken bones, stitches, or even an IV up until then. So my recovery was long, slow, and very painful.
My Second Birth (01): With my second pregnancy, I returned to my previous doctor who was supportive of VBACs. After attending a childbirth class, I thought I knew what to expect. However, I was thrown a curve ball when I began experiencing a lot of false labor at 36 weeks and on. It wasn't until 4 days after my due date that I lost my mucus plug and felt my contractions getting stronger and closer. I immediately left for the hospital (mainly hoping my contractions wouldn't stop...again) where they found me to be a whole fingertip dilated; however, because I was already overdue they kept me (which was a mistake in hindsight).
I was immediately hooked up to monitors and after receiving an IV my contractions went very irregular. The doctor didn't exactly jump out of bed at 3 AM to run down to the hospital with me being a fingertip dilated. So, I spent the rest of the night wide awake and very uncomfortable. My doctor showed up around 9 AM and found me to be a whole 1cm dilated, and he immediately put me on Pitocin (another mistake in hindsight). It wasn't until 3 PM that I was dilated to 3cm and allowed an epidural (which I wasn't against getting).
After that my doctor broke my water, and I jumped from 3cm to 5cm. Well 7 PM and 8 PM rolled by with no change, and my doctor started putting on pressure for a c-section stating, "At this point we are just waiting for a problem." In other words there were no problems or reasons for a c-section, he just wanted to be done for the day. The nurse checked me and said my cervix had changed a little, and he would walk in the room 10 sec. later and tell me there had been no change. However, by this time I was exhausted, hungry, and frustrated; so, I gave in. At 8:30 PM, my son (who was only supposed to be 7lbs) was born weighing in at 9 lbs. 4oz.
The biggest difference between my two c-sections was by far my recovery. My past experience taught me exactly what NOT to do. Instead of trying to lay perfectly still (like with my first), I forced myself to move around...not too much. The difference was instead of hobbling into my doctor's office to have my staples removed (like my first), I walked in with a normal stride.
My Third Birth (03): With my third pregnancy, I quickly discovered the challenge I was up against in trying to VBA2C. My husband and I had moved to a new city, and I was forced to find a new OB (not that I missed the old one). The first doctor I went to immediately began telling how the likelihood of a true rupture was 10% (which isn't backed up by any research anywhere). He said I would definitely need a repeat c-section, and he would have to recommend that I have no more children. I didn't fight his opinion; I only listened. However, once I left his office that day, I never went back.
I tried my luck with a group practice and got very lucky. The very first doctor (an older man) I saw in the practice told me he used to do VBA2C on a regular basis. He was okay with me having a TOL, but he also told me that none of the other doctors in the practice would support it. There were some restrictions that came with his support as well. The biggest one being he wouldn't let me go overdue which led me to believe he was not as supportive as he let on. Anyhow, in this particular practice which ever doctor is on call when you go into labor is the one you get. My odds of getting him weren't very good; so I knew my delivery could be tricky (which was an understatement).
So 5 days before my due date I started feeling contractions. Slow and irregular, they seemed to fade once the sun came out. Then 4 days before, I was having contractions from 5 to 45 minutes apart. They continued like that for the next 2 days. I don't recommend this to everyone, but I was not going to go to the hospital until I was close to 5cm dilated. I knew once I got to the hospital they would be pushing for a c-section every step of the way. However, I did a lot of research into ruptures, and I knew the threat was real. So, I definitely wanted to be in a hospital for the most intense part of my labor. So, the only way to know how dilated I was...was to check. I figured it didn't take a medical degree to feel whether or not my cervix was opening. I purchased sterile latex gloves and checked for progress every 12 hours of my false and early labor (usually right after showering). Finally, just before midnight 2 days before my due date, I was convinced I was close to 5cm. So, after having a large snack, I set off for the hospital. That is when the battle began.
Immediately after arriving at the hospital they pulled up my record and started talking like they would be preparing me for surgery. I immediately told them I was trying to VBAC, and it didn't go over well. Then to make matters worse, the doctor on call from the practice was one I had never even seen before. She stood next to my bed for nearly minutes with her arms folded in front of her and used every scare tactic in the book. Since I had done a lot of research on the web about studies and statistics, I wasn't afraid. I didn't do much talking. She is a doctor, and I do respect that she has had to go through a lot to be where she is. So I wasn't about to debate her. I just kept repeating, "I have done a lot of research on the matter, and I'm fully aware of the risks." After minutes of lectures my husband walked in the room, and he received another 10 minutes worth. Finally she gave up, threw her hands in the air, and left the room. I turned to my husband and said, "You do realize that right now our baby is healthy, but if I did rupture he could die. Are we ready to take that risk?" He immediately replied that the odds are very much in our favor of taking home our healthy baby after a vaginal birth. We were in it together to the end.
They found me to be 4cm dilated upon arrival and 4.5cm an hour later. The nurses had a rough time finding my veins (which has never been a problem for other nurses), and I did receive an extremely painful epidural. So 3 AM came and went with no further change. About 5 AM my not-so-favorite doctor came in to break my water. It was right about this time that my mouth started feeling really dry, and I remembered that while laboring with my first son the nurses brought me ice chips. So, I rang for the nurse and asked for some. She gave me a half smile and told me they didn't have any. I would have to do without. Shortly after that she returned with a catheter kit saying since I had an epidural, she would need to place a catheter. I couldn't help but think, "Great, so when it comes time for my c-section I'll already have it in place." I was suspicious because I had already proven I could empty my bladder even with the epidural.
Then 7 AM approaches along a shift change for my doctor. The new doctor on duty still wasn't the supportive one, but at least she was one I really liked. She came on duty and explained to me that their had been no change in my cervix since 2 AM, I was having regular contractions without pitocin, my water had already been broken, and they did expect change in the next hour or they would really suspect a problem and recommend a c-section. My heart fell to the floor. Instead of being stuck at 5cm, I was stuck at 4.5cm. I just had to accept that maybe there was a reason my cervix couldn't dilate. So 8:30 AM the doctor returns, and to my delight and surprise, I'm now dilated to 5.5cm. Once again I had to do a complete 180 in my way of thinking. I am a woman! My body could do this!
It was right at this time that my epidural started to wear off on one side. Now I could feel the full effect of my labor...on one side. It was also right at this time that the contractions kicked into high gear. The nurse came back in the room at 9:30 AM to grab some supplies and saw my discomfort. She asked if I was feeling pain or pressure. At this point I could barely squeak out the word "BOTH." She checked to find me now dialated to 9cm, and said she would call the doctor right away. I was concentrating so hard on my breathing that I didn't realize at the time that the doctor didn't show up to check me for another hour. It was no surprise that by then I was at 10cm. The nurses spent another half hour preparing the room as I panted away the urge to push.
Finally, at 11 AM they let me try my hand at pushing, and what a wonderful release it was to give in to that urge. I pushed about 4 times when the nurse told me to pant through a few contractions while they found the doctor again (it was like asking my heart not to beat for a minute). The doctor stepped in the room and they had me push one more time to show her just how close I was to delivering. She darted out to get dressed for the delivery, and the nurse thought it would be ok to let me push one more time while she was gone. Except halfway through the push she told me to stop so that she wouldn't have to catch the baby. By this time, I was gettting annoyed. The doctor steps in dressed and ready, the room is ready, I'm ready, and my baby was ready. We just needed one more contraction....just one more...any minute now!
It took a little while, but one contraction later at 11:26 AM, I gave birth vaginally to a healthy baby boy weighing 9lbs. 1oz. When they handed me my son still attached to me via his umbilical cord, it was the most amazing moment of my life. I never would have guessed in a million years that having a baby could be that kind of experience. After cleaning him off and doing a couple checks, they handed him back to me so that I could nurse him. They turned down the lights and I held him to my chest feeling like I was in a wonderful dream.
The nurse returned with a warm blanket and a cup FULL of ice chips. She explained that she didn't have the heart to tell me that my doctor told them not to give me anything to drink because she was planning on me having a c-section. Then she smiled (the first time her face looked friendly since I arrived) and told me that there is a big difference between the undetermined and determined women trying to VBAC. She patted my son and told me I did a good job. I felt great and took my son home just 31 hours later. There is no comparison between the recovery of a vaginal birth and a c-section. Now I can honestly say that giving birth is a true miracle!
Lisa H's Story (elective cs for macrosomia; "failed" TOL c/s; insulin-dep GD, hospital VBA2C)
Birth Story
This vba2c was a long time coming, and I worked so hard to achieve it. Therefore, much of this story actually took place way before I ever went into labor.
Baby #1 - Born January 2000
With my first pregnancy, I was “measuring big” at the end, so after an ultrasound predicted an 11 lb baby, my CNM & the consulting OB recommended that I have a scheduled cesarean. They told me about the risks of birthing a big baby (shoulder dystocia, tearing, etc.) and that an induction probably wouldn’t work anyway. My 9 lb, 10 oz daughter was born at 39 weeks by scheduled cesarean section. I never labored, and no one told me the serious risks to me, to the baby, and to future pregnancies. My daughter had some breathing issues and extremely low blood sugar, which I now think were the result of her being born too early. She spent 4 days in the NICU. Quite honestly, I wasn’t that upset about the cesarean. I trusted that it was the best thing for us, and I was a bit relieved to be able to avoid the “pain of labor.” I was in pain for awhile after the surgery, but I recovered relatively quickly.
Baby #2 – Born September 2004
During my next pregnancy, I found ICAN and learned a lot about vbac and normal birth (and that’s when I started to get upset about my first birth!), and I hired a doula. I traveled to another town to get midwifery care from a CNM (since I couldn’t find a midwife here who would take me as a patient), and I planned a hospital vbac. I fully expected to have a vaginal birth this time. I thought that if given the chance, my body would know just what to do. Once I got close to my “due date,” the consulting OB strongly recommended another scheduled cesarean because of my insulin-dependent gestational diabetes and my age (I was 36). I declined.
At 40 wks & 1 day, my water broke. 30 hrs later, I was only dilated to 2 cm, exhausted, and in serious pain. I allowed myself to be coerced into a cbac by Dr. Evil. My perfectly healthy 7 lb, 13 oz son was born at 40 wks & 2 days, also by cesarean. Based on the pain I was having, my lack of progress, and the marks on his face when he was born, I’m guessing that he was malpositioned during labor. I am still angry (I’m sure I always will be) about how I was treated by Dr. Evil and disappointed about the cbac, but I was happy to have worked so hard and to have given this baby the gift of labor. I had no regrets about having pursued a vbac, even though it ended in another cesarean. But sadly, I felt slightly “broken.” My recovery from the surgery was harder than the first time, but I didn’t have any unusual problems.
Baby #3 – Born January 2007
When I got pregnant with my 3rd baby in 2006, I assumed I would try for another vbac. My research told me that a vbac was just as safe or safer than a repeat cesarean, and I did not want to be recovering from surgery while taking care of 3 kids, including a newborn. I just didn’t think I could voluntarily get up on that operating table again unless it was a dire emergency. The challenging search for a health care provider began!
I would have preferred midwifery care, but I could not find a midwife to attend the birth because of the previous 2 cesareans plus the gestational diabetes. I interviewed and/or called every single OB practice in town plus several family practice doctors. Some practices wouldn’t even schedule me an interview without me actually transferring my care to them. Several OB offices just said no over the phone because they “don’t do vbacs after multiple cesareans.” I tried to meet with the one OB in town with a smaller practice, but he wouldn’t see me even to give me a second opinion.
When I could get interviews/consultations, I took in my own research summary of why I felt a vba2c was safe (including a lengthy bibliography) and a copy of the Landon 2006 study concluding that vbac after multiple cesareans should remain an option. Some OBs were nice, but still said they couldn’t help me. Some were rude and demeaning and lied about the risks. A family practice doctor said he wanted to help me, but without a previous vaginal birth, his OB consultants “would never allow it.” One OB said yes in our meeting, but then called me later that day to tell me no. I was shot down over and over again. I even considered signing up for a repeat cesarean with one of these OBs. I was so discouraged and emotional, and I just didn’t know if I was capable of continuing this fight.
At this point (about 20 wks along), I scheduled an appointment with Dr. Reasonable from my previous midwife/OB practice. They had already told me no over the phone, but an ICAN friend had used this same OB for her vbac and highly recommended her. I figured that I had nothing to lose. This doctor understood my desire to vbac and said that she would be willing to take me as a patient! Of course, she still wanted to put some ridiculous limitations on me during labor because of the vbac, but I figured that I could deal with those things when the time came. (And I knew that I would stay at home for as long as possible during labor.) I transferred my care to her immediately.
The rest of my pregnancy was relatively uneventful. I got to see Dr. Reasonable for every prenatal visit, which not all practices around here “allow.” (Most practices make you rotate through all the different doctors in the office.) I feel that it helped me emotionally to see someone every time who actually believed I could do this. I did have insulin-dependent gestational diabetes again, but my blood sugars were very well-controlled with diet and insulin shots. My endocrinologist believed that with well-controlled blood sugars, there was no additional risk to the baby. The baby was measuring “the right size,” and I was Group B Strep negative. I declined ultrasounds to check the baby’s size, and I declined vaginal exams. I took a Hypnobirthing class to prepare for labor and to deal with my birth baggage and my fears. I went to the chiropractor for regular adjustments. We hired the same doula that we had last time. I read positive birth stories and surrounded myself with supportive people.
On a Friday (38 wks & 3 days), my water broke at 12:30pm (standing in a fast food restaurant… lovely!). Over the next 24 hours, we tried many to things to get labor started… acupuncture, rest, massage, walking, chiropractic, eggplant parmesan, Hypnobirthing, and a nasty mineral oil concoction recommended by my Hypnobirthing instructor. It was “against the rules” to stay away from the hospital this long once my water had broken, but I was completely comfortable with it. I didn’t have a fever, I was Group B Strep negative, but most importantly, no one was sticking their hands in me to do vaginal exams. I knew the risk of infection was low. As time went on, I felt like I would never actually go into labor. About 26 hours after my water broke, I pulled out the big guns and drank castor oil. I drank it from a measuring cup in the Walgreen’s parking lot, which was about the most disgusting thing I’ve ever done in my life. I still get nauseous just looking at that particular measuring cup. After that, we walked some more, and then went home to wait.
I spent some unpleasant, but brief, time on the toilet, and then around 5pm on Saturday, I had a contraction. Within 15 minutes, I knew I was in labor. I went from no-labor to full-blown-can’t-talk-through-them contractions in about 45 minutes. I tried to use my Hypnobirthing to relax, but it was really hard. (I remember thinking, “Screw Hypnobirthing! This isn’t working!” But in retrospect, I think it was VERY helpful.) Within a few hours, I begged my husband to take me to the hospital so I could get an epidural. I assumed that I wasn’t dilated very much since this hadn’t been going very long, and there was no way I could do this for another 10, 15, or 20+ hours. (I know now that this is a normal reaction when nearing transition.) When our doula arrived, she agreed that it was time to go to the hospital because she noticed that I was doing some involuntary pushing. I didn’t realize what I was doing at the time, but I was happy to head to the hospital because I thought I’d be getting that epidural. We spent 45 miserable minutes driving to the hospital then got checked in.
The good news.....I was checked by a nurse at 10pm, and I was dilated to 7cm! I was thrilled that I was this far along. It didn’t even occur to me to ask for pain medication, and the nurses were respectful of my birth plan and didn’t suggest it. The bad news....The on-call OB was none other than Dr. Evil. I asked for another doctor or a midwife instead, but there was no one else. I decided to just deal with him the best I could (it’s not like he spent much time in our hospital room). I received a hep-lock and was hooked up to the fetal monitor, but that late in the game I was okay with it. I tried to walk around the hospital room, but I felt most comfortable laboring in bed. At 11pm, Dr. Evil checked me, and I was dilated to 9cm. (This is when he suggested a cesarean or an epidural, but I had no problem yelling, "No!”) At 11:45pm, I was complete!
Pushing felt great. The pain lessened, and it felt like I was accomplishing something. After an hour of pushing, I started to get a little worried. After 2 hours of pushing, I was terrified that the doctor would suggest forceps or vacuum or cesarean, but I kept pushing. This part was REALLY hard; I was so tired, but I could also tell that the baby was moving down. At one point I could reach down and feel his head, so I knew he was almost out! Around 2:00am, Dr. Evil wanted to cut an episiotomy because he “could get the baby out faster,” which I declined. At 38 weeks & 5 days gestation and after 38 hours with broken water and 2 and a half hours of pushing, I delivered my 7lb, 5 oz son Gavin! We did it! Holding that wet, slimy baby on my chest is a memory I will always cherish. I don’t love my other children any less, but I will always mourn that their first minutes of life were not spent the exact same way.
During the delivery, I sustained a 3rd - 4th degree tear. I suspect that the tear had something to do with the way Dr. Evil stuck his hands up in me to grab the baby. And then he had the gall to give me the I-told-you-so lecture about how an episiotomy would have prevented the tear. Lunatic. The fact that I was able to delivery vaginally with that particular doctor felt like such a victory. He had bullied me during my 2nd birth, but this time I stood up to him, and it was so empowering. I was nervous that he would be the one at the birth, but that turned out to be part of my healing process.
The recovery from my vba2c was easy. It’s difficult to express the huge difference between my cesarean recoveries and my vaginal birth recovery. With a vaginal birth, I felt connected with my baby and with other birthing women and had a “vbac high.” I was the best, proudest, happiest version of my real self with a sore bottom and a few stitches. With my cesareans, my entire body felt injured. It took ages to physically feel like myself again.
I think many things contributed to my ability to have a vaginal birth this time. I was more educated and more determined. The Hypnobirthing class and the chiropractic care were so helpful. I had a great support system in my ICAN friends, my husband, and our doula. It was valuable for me to see the same supportive OB at every prenatal appointment even though I didn’t know what doctor would be there at the time of delivery. Arriving at the hospital so late in labor was beneficial too. If I had gone in soon after my water broke, this story most likely would have had a very different ending. And of course, luck played into it as well. I gave birth 9 days before my “due date.” If I had been “overdue,” there would have been lots of pressure to have another cesarean. But most of all, I had more trust in how my body works. Apparently, my water breaks a few days before I give birth. That’s what is normal for ME.
My baby is now seven months old, and I have been completely healed from my tear for months & months. I am so grateful that I was able to experience a vaginal birth. I think it was the healthiest thing physically and emotionally for me and my baby. This birth has helped me heal a great deal from the births of my first 2 children. Some of the healing was because of the vba2c, but a large part of it was because of the journey. I worked as hard as I possibly could to do what I knew was best for me and for my family. I don’t think I’ve ever worked so hard for anything in my entire life, and I feel great about that.
Nancy T's Story (Induction, FTP c/s; Induction, TOL c/s; weight loss surgery; home VBA2C)
Kmom's Notes: Nancy lost 150 lbs. through gastric bypass Weight-Loss
Surgery (WLS) 4 years before this pregnancy. Because some WLS moms have been told that they cannot have a VBAC after WLS, she was asked to address whether this was an issue for her and what her WLS doctor told her about it. Also, because nutritional deficits
(especially folic acid, anemia, B12, and calcium) are very common in WLS patients a few years post-surgery, she was asked to address whether this was an issue for her at all in this pregnancy.
It is important to point out that Kmom is not a fan of WLS and has great concerns about pregnancies after WLS, but the reality is that many women are doing this now and it is important to document their stories too. It is especially important to document that it *is* possible for WLS patients to have VBACs
(and VBAMC) too!
Birth Story
About the WLS surgery aspect of this story: I spoke early on to my surgeon (practically a pioneer in the field of WLS-has been doing versions of it for over 30 years) about how WLS would affect pregnancy. His main concern was that I take my vitamins so I wouldn't be deficient and the baby would essentially be a "parasite" and would take what it needs from my body. So if I didn't get enough nutrition that it would mainly affect me.
I was nervous about getting pregnant too soon afterward. I was strict with my WLS diet and lost all of my 150 lbs in 1 year. I don't think I could have eaten enough prior to that to have maintained a pregnancy. I found out I was pregnant when I was about 3 years and 6 months out from my WLS.
I had a hard time gaining weight with this pregnancy--mainly because I had strong food aversions which were more severe with this (my 3rd)
pregnancy--not sure if it was due to pregnancy hormones or in part to WLS. Many of those aversions were to meat so I had to struggle to eat enough protein.
[Kmom note: This seems to be common to many WLS patients after several years
and can be a problem because of the importance of protein in helping the baby
grow properly and in helping the mother's blood volume expand enough.]
I found out in my second trimester that I was B12 deficient--my own fault--I hadn't taken my B12 tablets in a while--thought I was getting enough from just prenatal multi-vitamins. Luckily my baby did not have any complications due to this. (I had many cravings also early in my pregnancy--mostly for certain fruits--sour, citrus--which ironically are high in B12--coincidence? Maybe.) My iron level was at the low end of normal in my third trimester--otherwise, everything else was normal.
Bottom line--post WLS--take ALL your vitamins! I was given B12 injections weekly for a month to boost my levels and afterward I simply continued taking B12 supplements.
Early in my pregnancy my OB expressed concerns about my VBACing due to "all" of my previous history- including my WLS- like I could rupture something pushing. I spoke to my WLS surgeon about this concern and he said not to let them make the WLS an issue--that in his opinion there was no reason for concern. He did however relate a story to me of a patient of his who had a freak complication during pushing where she (supposedly) pushed so hard she cut off circulation to a part of her intestine and ended up having a part of her intestine die which required emergency surgery. (There was more to it than that, I just don't remember exactly what.) He did mention that he thought she had other complications that precipitated this and didn't think this was entirely due to her pushing during labor. He had only seen something like this happen once in his 30+ years as a WLS surgeon. In other words, something like this would probably more rare than getting struck by lightening--and definitely not something to be concerned with when planning whether to have a vaginal birth. So, I don't know if my OB had heard about this or something similar which made her concerned about VBAC for me. However, I had so many previous issues that I doubt that was the only reason.
Baby #1: Nancy's first baby was born by cesarean, "post induction for Failure to Progress."
Baby #2: Nancy's second baby was born by a cesarean after a trial of labor (CBAC), "post induction for FTP: posterior."
Baby #3: On Sunday April 23rd- my due date I just didn't feel right. I felt ill. I had about 2 episodes of really bad diarrhea early that afternoon and I took a nap until about dinnertime. I couldn't quite put a finger on it, though. I just felt tired, achy--just wanted to sleep. About 6 pm I started to notice that
menstrual-like crampiness starting back up. I had already taken about 9 calcium that day- so I took 3 more to try and head it off in case it was more prodromal labor. I tried to eat dinner, but I just couldn't eat much. Food didn't really taste good for some reason.
Later that evening DH and I sit down to watch TV--this was probably about 9 pm. I told him about the crampiness when he asked what I was doing with the timer--I told him and he was very skeptical. He asked if it had just started- I told him no- it started about 3 hours before. It didn't really start to bother me until about 10:30- and I told DH I was done watching TV and wanted to go upstairs and take a bath, have a glass of wine and go to bed. So I did--and took more calcium too.
I got in bed about 11 and laid there for about an hour before I realized I couldn't take it anymore. I had to get up--and get DH up too. I had him start coaching me through the contractions. They were getting really strong. By 12:15 I tried more calcium. I didn't help- and at that point I realized this was the "real" thing. I held off calling my midwife though. I knew things were going to get stronger still. I held off calling until about 1:30 am. The contractions were about 4 minutes
apart and 40-45 seconds long. She told me to call her back when they were around a minute long- she had just come off about 2 full days of being awake with only a few hours sleep and delivering at least two other babies- and she was exhausted.
I thought, Good Lord! What if they don't! So after talking to her and feeling utterly helpless and scared and worried about ending up going unassisted, I leaned on DH. It was getting bad. I was already starting to have doubts. He was so wonderful, though; he encouraged me and kept me going.
At right around 2 am I got back in the bathtub, and no sooner than I did my water broke! It was like a water balloon went off in my crotch! Thank goodness I was in the tub! I was in the middle of a contraction when it happened and I shot up out of the water- standing there- yelling at DH (who was standing right there next to the tub) and the contraction stopped instantly when I did that, which freaked me out a little. The water was cloudy- I couldn't tell if there was meconium in it; I later found out there was just a *little*.
We called my midwife, J, back right away. She was also waiting on another first time mom and she was wondering who would go first. So, she sent her assistant back out to see if she could check me and to labor-sit until she could get there. The assistant mw got there about 2:30- which is why my mw sent her, since she is so close, and J is so far away (2 hours). She called J back a little before 3 and told J to come out, that things were really going this time. I was very relieved to have her on the way! DH thought maybe I was holding out for her; he said I as well as I did that I did even better once J got here.
J arrived at about 5 am. She checked me as soon as she got here--7 cm. It really freaked me out- I thought- OH NO! I was sure that as hard as it had been getting through that I would be 10 cm by now! Plus, it definitely registered in my head that I was probably in transition now and it scared me because of the horror stories I had heard about really long transitions and so forth. I couldn't get comfortable- I was all over the place--on hands and knees--standing, squatting, leaning over the bed or DH's lap. I couldn't get comfortable at ALL. I won't sugarcoat it for those yet to experience it--it was agony. But something kept me going. I was sweating like CRAZY- it really did feel like the marathon they describe in the "Bradley Method" book.
I started to wonder "WHY the heck did I EVER confuse Prodromal Labor with THIS????" Was I crazy? Prodromal was NOTHING compared to the REAL thing--to real dilating contractions, that is! All the stuff I had before had been a walk in the park compared to what I was experiencing in that moment. It was a real test. And I was MEAN! They tried everything to make me comfortable--warm towels on my back--OH NO, get it off!! I didn't want anything touching me!
At a little after 6:20 am J checked me again--only a little lip of cervix was left! It was right at the top. J asked me if I felt the urge to push. I wasn't sure, so I guess not. She told me that once the lip was gone the contractions would no longer "hurt" or be as "sharp" of a pain but feel more like pressure. And she was right! Pushing contractions are sooo much different than dilating contractions! She asked me if I wanted her to hold back the lip while I tried to push and see what the baby did--if he moved down any and could make the lip go away so I could begin the real work of pushing.
I agreed; it really hurt, but it worked! Within 1 or 2 pushes the lip was gone and he was moving down. I was in a semi-sit at first, then moved to hands and knees. The pressure was terrible; it really did feel like he was coming out my rear end. J pointed out to DH while I was on hands and knees the "bulge" in my lower back that was the baby's head as he was coming down! I ended up back in a semi-sit and that's where I stayed--I was too tired to get into any other positions. Luckily, the baby was moving down with every push.
Finally he got to the outlet. I remember them telling me to reach down and touch his head. I put my hand down there and recoiled--I just couldn't do it. It felt too weird. My eyes were clamped shut. I groaned through each contraction; my voice was killing me. I reached up and grabbed the headboard of my bed and put everything I had into the last few pushes. I used it as leverage. It was so hard to breathe- I could barely catch my breath before I had to push again. My body really did take over. I felt like I was just along for the ride.
Finally he crowned and the whole "ring of fire" description really took on meaning for me! J applied counterpressure to my perineum through the last few pushes and I didn't tear--at least not my perineum. I think I may have had some skid marks up higher. I was pretty sore and had a lot of stinging when I peed for about a week or so. Thank goodness for the peri bottle!
Anyway, his head just "popped" out, then DH said it just started to rotate and I pushed again and he just slid out. He said he always thought the shoulders were the hardest part to get out, but his just came right out! Immediate relief!
J put Noah right up on me. I was completely naked and didn't care; neither did I care that the assistant had been taking digital pictures of the whole process (I am actually quite grateful that she did as I didn't even open my eyes until he was put on me).
I could hardly believe it- I didn't know what to do with him! He was squirming and screaming his head off! This red, bloody, slimy little body was on my chest- I could hardly believe what I had done! I just laid there- unable to move and just staring at him. I checked to make sure it was a boy; it was of course, but I had to be sure. We toweled him and I off and we just laid there.
Not 5 seconds after he came out my 7-year-old son was at the door. Someone went and got my 5-year-old daughter. Both kids were amazed at the baby and probably a little concerned. My son told me that I had kept him awake for a while; apparently he heard me moaning and occasionally hollering out. DH told me that I didn't holler too much that I really seemed to have good control over it; I didn't feel that way at the time, though! It took everything I had to keep my voice low-pitched and moan rather than get too shrill and scream out. My son had heard me though. He seemed okay about it; he didn't act like he was afraid. I was very happy that the kids were asleep during the whole process. That worked out great. They got to be there almost as soon as Noah came out and didn't have to watch mommy in too much pain.
The kids were there when I pushed out the placenta- which I took my time doing. I really was not in the mood to push any more after all of that. I pushed the baby out in 33 minutes and I waited 47 minutes before I got the placenta out! LOL! I had never seen one before so it was very interesting. J gave all of us an anatomy lesson with it. I always wondered what happened to the amniotic sac after it broke!
Anyway, N was born Monday April 24th--one day past my due date--at 6:54 am. He weighed about 7 lbs 8 oz and was about 20 1/4 inches. What matters is that he's very healthy- even the jaundice that all of my kids have had (last one before this one at 38 weeks ended up in the hospital with it) hasn't been nearly as bad this time around. Doesn't need lights or anything. It's actually just about gone now.
He's nursing great and gaining weight and sleeping wonderfully! I have to force myself out of bed or else he would already be sleeping through the night! He loves to be swaddled--puts him right out! Unfortunately my milk supply won't allow me to indulge in a full night yet!
I'm so thankful that things worked out for me the way they did. I'm so thankful for this little guy I have to cuddle now. Even DH has told me that he thinks maybe we'll have another- this from a man who only wanted 2 kids in the beginning! He's very proud of me. I think this birth has been healing for both of us. It has really helped me realize what I'm capable of and that I'm not broken the way I thought I was after the last c/s (a CBAC).
Mandy's Story (c/s with posterior baby; c/s for placenta previa; VBA2C)
Birth Story
Well, I did it!
I was starting to wonder if I ever would because I'd gone to 41 weeks and my doctors were pushing for induction. I had a non-stress test on the 3rd, a Thursday, which was great. The midwife and I talked about the fact that I was 41 weeks already, and how she lost her own baby at 41 weeks. I was angry that she shared that with me. My baby and I were thriving; her test just proved it! She wanted me to come back on Monday for another non-stress test, then a biophysical profile on Wednesday. Then she wanted to schedule an induction for the next Thursday, when I would be 42 weeks. I asked her to strip
my membranes, and I was a very stretchy 3 centimeters and baby was very low. I told her I would probably cancel the induction if my biophysical on Wednesday looked good. She told me that those tests aren't always accurate, which only left me frustrated and wondering why she was recommending one at all.
After our visit, when I was leaving, DH and I were pulled into the office administrator's office. There we were berated and questioned about our decision to refuse induction. I presented evidence from memory, telling them I felt that induction for me at that time presented more risk than benefit, and that I'd prefer to take the pregnancy to 42 weeks, per the ACOG's definition of post-dates, unless a medical indication presented. It was hell. I signed waiver after waiver, consent form after consent form, and left in tears. It wasn't the forms that bothered me. I knew evidence was on my side, and I was confident in my decision. What hurt was the guilt trip, and the sudden realization that my doctors had been simply humoring me the entire nine months. They never respected me; they only held a carrot in front of my nose, hoping to lead me off the cliff when they felt appropriate. I cried the whole drive home. I felt totally abandoned, and forgot that I had a wonderful support team: DH and our doula, S, to lean on.
On Friday I woke up totally pumped and more adamant than ever. DH and I spent two hours walking at the mall and did some light yard work when we got home. Contractions were sporadic all day. I knew my body was ready for labor, and had been for weeks. Baby was very low, and I had intense pubic pain. And, my vaginal exam the day before had been promising as well. I took homeopathic Caulophyllum (Blue Cohosh) hourly to stimulate the contractions and homeopathic Gelsemium (for apprehension) and did acupressure every 20 minutes. By 6:30 pm I started paying attention and found the contractions to be regular, about 20 minutes apart and lasting 30 to 40 seconds. They continued to get closer together, longer in duration, and at midnight were more intense so I called S and my mom to let them know they'd probably get "the call" early in the morning.
I went to bed and was unable to sleep through the contractions, but I did dose between them. Around 3am I drew a warm bath, and labored alone for about an hour. Then, I called DH in, and he took over timing them. They were about 5 minutes apart and lasting about 60 seconds. I was moaning softly through them at this point. I got out of the tub and tried to poop. Nothing much happened, and I thought this was a good sign that there wasn't much in my system. We gathered the toiletries that hadn't been packed yet, and headed downstairs. I called S and my mom at 5:30 to let them know they should head on over. By the time they got there I was well into active labor and really "opera moaning" to help my cervix relax and open. Contractions were 2-3 minutes apart and about 90 seconds long. We called the doctor and headed for the hospital.
I was a little apprehensive, because the doctor on call was the only one in my practice that I did not want to attend. The doctor who had agreed to be paged in this situation was delivering another woman at another hospital. We arrived at 8:00 am. I was 5 centimeters, and they monitored the baby for a while and put in a heparin-lock. All the nurses were really sweet, but told me straight out that they were a little intimidated by my birth plan. They told me that if they hadn't met me before reading it, they would have thought I was a real meanie. DH says I signed a bunch of waiver forms, because I didn't want an I.V. or routine interventions, but I don't even remember doing it. My doctor was already there with another laboring woman. She was very supportive and kind, so I guess I shouldn't have worried about having her attending.
My water still hadn't broken, and I felt tremendous pressure because I really needed to move my bowels. I guess I had been wrong about not having anything in my system at home. However, every time I went to the bathroom, I would have strong contractions and my bowels just wouldn't move. It was hard enough just to empty my bladder. DH and S were so wonderful. I sat on the birth ball, and DH and I embraced each other through contractions while S rubbed my back. My dad was there, and so was DH's dad. My mom had stayed at our house with our two older boys. I was glad my dad brought the video camera.
I labored beautifully for some time until the pressure from the water and the baby and my bowels all started fighting each other and at this point I started to lose my focus. I could no longer breathe properly through the contractions and just sobbed and yelled. I tried to use the toilet again, and it felt like the baby was going to fall out. The pressure was tremendous, but more like a weight on my bottom, not the natural pushy feeling I was expecting. I told S the baby was coming out, and she looked. She told me there was a lot of mucous, but that I probably wasn't completely dilated yet. I was getting really frustrated! Finally, at about 7 centimeters, I felt I would try to go to the bathroom again, and once I got in the door, my body said "now or never" so I just put my arms around DH's neck, relaxed, and pooped right then and there! S, God bless her, must have anticipated this because she threw a chux pad onto the floor just in time! The whole time I was totally dangling from around DH's neck, and he could hardly hold me. My good friend, Karen, had also arrived, and helped him support me. I couldn't believe I had just had a bowel movement in front of my father-in-law! And I didn't even care!
After I got that "obstruction" out of the way, my contractions picked up, but in a much more natural way. These were the primal, intense, manageable contractions that I knew would get the job done. I went back to the bed and transitioned. I went into kind of a trance. The contractions were good and effective, and I breathed deeply through them, and zoned out in between. One of the nurses came in and asked if I'd been given morphine. S said, "No, she's just in labor-land." (Later, I remembered a sort of vision that I'd had during this period. I was walking along a forest path, following a huge bird. With each contraction, this bird would lift me up over the treetops for the duration, then set me gently back down on the path. As a Christian, this kind of out-of-body thing has always rubbed me wrong, but this was not something I did on purpose. It was a totally un-induced coping mechanism, and like nothing I've ever experienced before.)
At one point, while breathing through a contraction, I involuntarily bore down. I asked that they check my cervix to make sure I was ready. I was 9 centimeters, and my bag of waters was bulging through. I asked the doctor to break my water, and it was clear. I immediately felt another contraction coming on, and shouted to be sat up again. That one was really intense. It was like I could feel my cervix completely open; it was incredible. With the next one I involuntarily bore down again, and felt the baby's head drop into my birth canal. It was like a balloon instantly inflating in my vagina, and I snapped out of my trance-like state and started insisting that the baby was coming NOW!
Everyone just kind of looked at me. I snapped at my dad to get the video camera running. DH was sort of standing next to me, trying to decide if he should be paying attention to my head or my bottom. S was telling me to just breathe. Poor S. This was the second time I had told her with certainty that the baby was coming out; how could she know? I looked at her and said, "S, I know I've never done this before, but there is a baby's head in my vagina and he's not waiting around for me to argue with any of you!" The nurse obligingly came over and looked under the sheet, and the next moment she was running for the door shouting for the doc, "Doctor, the baby is coming!"
With the next push, baby's head pushed through my labia. I had told the nurse not to tell me when or how long to push. I wanted to work with my body. The urges were there, and I pushed with them, but not long. The nurse told me if I didn't hold my pushes longer she would start counting, so with the next contraction, against my better judgment, I pushed without the urge and counted to myself. This brought the baby to crowning. DH was crying and saying, "Oh God, Mandy, he's almost here! You're doing it!" Then I felt that ring of fire and wanted to blow through the rest so the baby wouldn't come out too fast and cause too much injury. I'd requested no episiotomy and my doctor was applying counter-pressure. I didn't have the control to blow, but I knew that screaming would make pushing very ineffective, so I figured, screw it! I put my head back and let out a shrill scream. Everyone thought I was panicking, but I knew what I was doing.
The next thing I knew, Uilliam Steven shot out of my body like a torpedo! 1:07 pm. Only 7 minutes of pushing! I will never forget that feeling. My doctor didn't even catch him, it was so fast! He just landed on the bed! I sat up and grabbed his warm slippery little body and put him on my chest. I was bawling and thanking Uilliam and God for the gift of his non-surgical birth. I was a whole person! He was crying a little and looked a little stunned, but went straight to the breast like a pro. His eyes never left mine. What a gift!
I asked my doctor not to cut the cord. I wanted Uilliam to get all the oxygen and nutrients he had coming to him. He immediately began to nurse, and when the cord stopped pulsing and turned white, we went ahead and clamped it, then DH cut it. Uilliam gurgled a little, so we suctioned him out. He cried a little cry then, and went back to the breast. My doctor asked if I wanted pitocin to birth the placenta, but I refused. I knew by Uilliam's vigorous sucking and the response of my uterus that I wouldn't need help, and it came on its own after about 15 minutes.
I feel so blessed to have had this experience. I feel like a first-time mom. Everything went exactly as it was supposed to, except for the ultra-fast pushing stage, but I'm not complaining! I will ignore the nurses next time, if there is a next time, and push when I darn well please! 7 minutes! What in the world were they in such a hurry for?
I'm so proud of myself. I accomplished the all-natural VBAC I wanted, but was never sure I would get. I will relive it every day for a long time, I think.
Recovery has been fairly easy. Much easier than a cesarean, but different because of where my injury is. I suffered a 2nd degree tear, probably because he crowned so fast, due to my holding my breath and counting. He was my biggest baby yet (8 lbs, 9 oz) and the first I'd delivered vaginally, and his head didn't even mold; it was perfectly round. His apgars were 9 and 9. He had almost no vernix at all, and his skin was really wrinkled. Over the next few days, it chapped and peeled a lot, but didn't seem to bother him at all. I'm glad I was able to go into labor on my own when I did; He was obviously ready!
I feel I've completed a rite of passage. I want everyone on Earth to know what I did, and how their lives will change when they do it, too. I know that this womanly art is something every healthy woman can achieve. I've decided to become a doula. I feel an inescapable pull to assist women in accomplishing the births they deserve. I believe that birth is God's exclusive gift to womankind, and I want to inspire other women to accept that gift without fear. Uilliam, my little selkie-baby, what have you started?
Desirre's Story (c/s; VBAC; "failed" TOL c/s; hospital VBA2C)
Birth Story
This story begins on April 7, 2000 while I am on the table being repaired after my second unexpected cesarean (second VBAC attempt - had a VBAC with son #2). The sadness and anger raged through me, I had arrived at 7 cms with a posterior baby and upon vaginal exam the nurse AROMed me without consent leading to my son being stuck and unable to rotate (yes I moved, used every position, no IV, no drugs). After nearly 4 hours of pushing - I was back on that %$%^&^&* table with a doc who hated her job and an anesthesiologist who hated women who didn't get epidurals in labor.
Now the good part comes - as I was being sewn up - I asked the doc if I could have another vaginal birth - I wanted more children - remarkably her answer was yes of course you can. WOW, even this lying hateful doc believed in VBAMC. I am sharing this because the other day I remembered this moment as if it had just occurred. From the depths of my soul I knew my body wasn't broken, I knew I would go for another vaginal birth, I knew I was meant to do so and not submit to surgery unnecessarily, I knew it wasn't for the sake of a do-over. To me that is a miracle that I was already planning my next baby while on the table..... and could take solace in what this awful doc had said.
So I became pregnant with my 4th son in March 2001. I immediately panicked and went through a period of freak-out. I had suffered tremendous PTSD and did not realize it at the time so it wasn't treated. I didn't know of ICAN. I DID know that this was my body and my decision. My dh deferred as he believed if I could conceive another baby, I could birth another baby. He trusted me to know best as the mother, something that still endears me to him. After 15 hours of phone calls to every practice, hospital in town (I didn't know about the homebirth community), I found ONE practice that would consider me---a CNM and OB husband and wife team. I also found one about an hour south of here who has an awesome VBAC rate and VBAMC rate. I interviewed the doc with a long list of questions. He said, "Yep, my wife is perfect for you. No reason you cannot have another vbac." So I signed on with them and had an uneventful pleasurable pregnancy. Never ONCE tried to scare me. Kind and considerate and believed in me as much as I did.
Well I knew this baby was coming 10 days before 40 weeks I had circled and initialed it on my calendar a couple of months before. However, on December 17th I started contracting regularly (I do not have Braxton -Hicks at all). So phoned my MW to be ready and we both fell asleep our couches LOL. Went in for an appt. WOW I asked for a VE, I was 5 cms dilated. I laughed. Huh, so prodromal labor doesn't change a cervix, huh!
December 18th. Same darn thing. Made my MW sleep in her clothes on the couch. So I stopped in the office and said check me. She didn't want to - I said come on. She did; I was 6 cms. Again I walked out roaring with laughter. December 19th - I went to the hospital thinking this has to be labor. Just a practice run. Contractions petered out again. So I did opt for an Ambien from exhaustion and went home. But I was 7 cms.... A multip going for a VBA2C being sent home at 7 cms. The nurses thought she was nuts, my MW.
The night of the 20th something was different. I started contracting about 9 pm. Hmm, maybe another night of practice? So I decide a bit later around 945 to take a hot shower to see if they slowed or sped up. Well I had 5 contractions while in the shower. They were strong, but I didn't have pain. (Yep, go ahead, curse at me now. I had a pain-free labor, all prodromal, and even at this point no pain, just stronger and stronger tightening. I had decided that labor was one of my SUPER POWERS LOL.) I was sure I was in the shower for a half an hour. Turns out I was in less than 20 minutes. I was contracting about every 2 minutes, lasting a minute-thirty. So my dh says. "NOW, can we go?" I said, "Soon." I got dressed, called my friend who was doulaing me, and told her to meet us at the hospital. She lived down the block and beat us by 10 minutes cause I couldn't get in the car.
I got there, walked into triage and sure enough, darn contractions of course had gotten back down to 3-4 minutes apart. My MW said I am not coming in if she isn't a solid 2-3 minutes apart and long contractions. Told the triage nurse she was to send me home if they stayed spaced apart. The nurse turned white because i was now 8 cms dilated. If I could have a picture of her face to share... So I went for a walk to get things organized. As soon as the adrenaline dropped my contractions picked up again. Yes, he was coming soon. So MW came in shortly after.
I got into my room - I agreed to a hep lock only and hand held Doppler. No monitors on my belly. Hell no. I handed the nurse a big box of pricey chocolates and my birth plan before my MW arrived saying, "I could be a bag of snakes. I could have the most normal uneventful VBAC or end up pushing for 4 hours and having another cesarean. You willing to do this with me?" Of course two contractions came in this time. She couldn't believe I was nearing birth standing there talking to her. She said yes, she wanted to come along for the ride and she was on my side from that moment on. No one asked if I wanted drugs. No one made me stay in bed. I just did my thing.
My mw arrived and listened while I was in the bathroom. I decided on getting in the shower; she went to get her waterproof doppler. For some reason NO ONE was in the room with me. I got in the shower and it was freezing Colorado cold water (45ish degrees). Well there I am, buck naked and screaming at this point - Cold cold cold cold cold cold - that is all I could say. Those couple of contractions hurt while the hot blankets were being wrapped around me. Damn shower. Right after that the contractions got fiercely strong - for some reason no one was in the room again - (can you imagine that happening now a VBA2C being left alone unmonitored) - so I ended up on my hands and knees on the hospital floor - yep no towel under me, no chux pad, nothing just bare me on the bare floor (ICK ICK ICK).
So the nurse comes in and apologizes I think and helps me up. I make it over to the bed and lean over it while standing. My MW asks if she can check me. I say ok - I have a very bulgy bag and am just about complete. I allow her to break my water - baby was in good position and zero station so he wasn't going to get stuck funky. I told her unless she knew his position no way. Within about 10 minutes I get this surge to push that was ferocious. I had been in my room for about an hour and a half.
I pushed on my side. Took me a while to make progress. This was the only time I got scared and it HURT. It hurt SO much. My fear of pushing and pushing started to service. I almost panicked but she assured me I could do it. The pain went away. The urge stayed and I went for it like all the other times but without fear. I pushed for about 45 minutes. Yes. a long time for a multip, not a long time for me. Then the one sad thing happened. I looked at her and said am I going to have another cesarean? She said reach down, WHAT the hell why I thought, REACH down - OMG I was almost there, my son was almost here. NO FREAKING WAY.
My husband said all tension, stress and fear from that question melted away and I had the most angelic peaceful look he had ever seen ever. My son's head was out to his ears. The pain I felt was the perineum stretching (bic lighter burning). A softness that is indescribable. The burning took hold. I told her to get him out in a low growl. She chuckled and say push past it. I growled louder, "GET him out, Cathy." She said, "YOU get him out." I pushed again and there was his whole head. She gently suctioned his nose, mouth and said, ["What] a very big unmolded head you have." As he turned she said he looked just like our son Logan (he did). One more gentle push and there on my belly was my 4th son, Declan Joseph.
I was stunned and just touched and touched him. I was totally naked with my new son on me and I swear I heard the heavens open up. I had never held any of my babies at birth. Never got to inspect and put to breast and and and. My husband and I cried. My friend cried and took pictures. The nurse cried. My MW cried. And her OB husband finally came in (he was at the nurses station the whole time) to chart for his wife. He said I KNEW you would do it. Congratulations. The hep lock was gone.
I did take an [intramuscular shot] of pitocin because I am a very heavy bleeder postpartum. I grow super sized placentas and clot tremendously.
For 5 hours I stayed in my room with my new son. Left in total peace. Occasionally, a BP check and bleeding check. The nurse thanked me for allowing her to witness a natural birth, a normal birth. She said it was amazing for her. It made her beleive in birth again.
No continuous monitoring, no IV, no drugs, no episiotomy, no tearing--just a skidmark, immediate breast feeding, minimal invasiveness by nursery staff. I growled and groaned, I cried, I laughed, I feared some but believed more. I birthed the way my body was meant to. Only my dh, FIL and MW team believed in me like I did. Everyone else in my world told me to schedule an ERCS. Nope, felt wrong. I was willing to push for another 4 hours and end up in the OR so my baby could pick his birthday, my placenta would know it was time to leave, my milk would know it was time to come in... I know it isn't possible to have a homebirth in the hospital but I came as close as one can with his birth.
I was the last VBA2C at that hospital because my MW is getting her doctorate in Midwifery. Her husband retired.
Please be encouraged! Follow your mommy heart where fear cannot survive in the vast love. Listen to your baby and body. Oh BTW, my son had a 14.5 inch unmolded head that came through a pelvis that had failed two heads that were almost an inch smaller. Big beautiful redemptive head. My MW said there is definitely nothing wrong with your pelvis.
Christie's Story (septate uterus, 2 c/s for breech or transverse babies; home breech VBA2C)
Kmom's Notes:
Birth Story
Baby #1: My first birth, in 2001, was a planned c/s I was hoping to avoid for breech/transverse. I worked diligently with all methods I knew of to turn him, and had successfully turned him (albeit to transverse) by the time my water broke and I went into labor. I am ever grateful for the days of pre-labor and the hours of early labor that my son and I shared, but will always mourn the loss of bonding caused by the hours of separation in the hospital for routine procedures. I believe it still affects his attachment to me to this day.
Baby #2: My second birth, though it is hard for me to call it that, was a planned VBAC. I had researched more about turning babies and hired a doula, again doing everything I knew to avoid a c/s. She also remained breech/oblique, despite the addition of techniques such as moxibustion (an acupuncture technique). The GD diagnosis really threw me psychologically, and I think also contributed to my acceptance of defeat when the OB offered no other solutions to turning her, other than a version at *39* weeks and the agreement for an immediate c/s if that did not work. For what it's worth, I question the GD diagnosis to this day, given that my glucose levels were quite good during both my second and third pregnancies.
Baby #3: Despite three external versions (one of which was successful),
moxibustion, Webster Chiropractic care, ice packs, music, breech tilts, hypnosis etc, my little boy was breech when labor began at approximately 39 weeks.
I never felt like I had given birth to either of my [prior] children and absolutely hated the surgeries. Being tied down, and paralyzed from the spinal were absolutely terrifying to me and triggered the feelings of helplessness I had felt when I had been sexually abused as a child. Moreover, even after my daughter was born, though overjoyed to have my son and daughter, I was devastated to not have achieved what I considered to be a rite of passage for women. I had always pictured myself giving birth naturally, medication-free, to my children. So many women take that opportunity for granted. I found it amazing that I had been criticized on many an occasion for wanting to give birth vaginally, when cesareans were “so much
easier.”
The comfort with and skill level of attending breech vaginal births were one of the first questions I asked prospective
midwives [when planning for the birth of my 3rd child]. I was blessed to find a midwife who is a former ICAN leader, with over 20 years experience and comfortable and experienced with breech vaginal deliveries. I also had another midwife, her partner, in attendance. The four of us (they along with my husband, Andy, and I), had agreed to proceed with a breech home birth as long as I continued to show progress and the baby was doing well as assessed by
FHTs {kmom note: fetal heart tones]. This was based on research that indicated that when labor in a breech birth was not progressing, it was indicative of a problem that would necessitate a cesarean.
On Saturday, March 11, I began feeling heaving abdominal and cervical sensations. I also had the distinct feeling that my water could break at any moment. Sure enough, I woke up early Sunday morning (1 a.m.) lying in a puddle of amniotic fluid and vernix. I was excited and called the midwife and then tried to rest. Contractions began at about 2 a.m. and were about 6-8 minutes apart and very manageable.
Contractions began to pick up around 9 a.m.—they were consistently 3 minutes apart and starting to get my attention, though still quite manageable. S, one of the midwives, came and checked me, and forgot we had agreed for me not to know how dilated I was (I was 3 cm).
Andy and my son set up the birth tub. I got in, but didn’t stay long, as it wasn’t comfortable and it was quite a production to change from wet to dry clothes.
At this point, having the kids around was a welcome distraction, and I was still able to be amongst everyone and manage the contractions (still 3 minutes apart). The worst part was actually shoulder and upper back pain that must have been from tensing up during contractions. By late afternoon/early evening, I began feeling the need to pace/circle my house during contractions (had been managing them sitting up, just pausing during my conversation). I started getting frustrated when the kids and/or their toys would get in my way while circling/pacing and was ready for everyone to leave. Instead, Andy and I went upstairs to lie down and listen to the CD I had made of music that inspired/relaxed me. I treasure these moments. It was a wonderful time to connect with the man who has supported me all of these years and given me the gift of (now) three wonderful children.
The midwives checked me and I was “on the edge of transition” (later they told me I was 6.5 cms and completely effaced). So, I was making progress, just a lot slower than we all thought would be the case. I hopped in the shower, and that helped immensely.
At this point, I decided to listen to the Hypno-birthing Affirmations Tape. This was very reassuring. I was still feeling somewhat discouraged by the length of labor, though, so my wonderful husband, pulled me into our office, sat me in a recliner and began reading my Blessingway emails from my ICAN (International Cesarean Awareness Network) friends. It was just what I needed, to be reminded of all the love and strength supporting me from all over the world.
We stayed in that room to labor, as I was as comfortable as one can be “on the edge of
transition.” We both dozed on and off as my contractions and noticeable moaning allowed. The midwives told me later, that my contractions spaced back out to 6-8 minutes apart during the night, allowing me to get some much needed rest.
My daughter called for Daddy at 1 am. Andy went upstairs and fell asleep, so I was left to labor alone. After awhile, remembering that the midwives had expected a relatively short labor, I began to get discouraged that it was already over 24 hours. I remember thinking that I had accomplished enough by laboring as long as I had and even had passing thoughts of transferring, but as soon as I realized this would mean a c/s, I quickly found the strength to continue!
I decided I would feel better being near the midwives, so I went into the room where they were sleeping to labor there. They continued to check on me hourly, which at least gave some comfort. My son’s heart rate was consistently in the 130s, like the ECVs, he seemed to have no problem dealing with labor. This was of course, very reassuring.
After the kids got up and out of the house (my son to preschool, my daughter to my mother’s), the midwives suggested I get in the pool, but I wanted none of it. I got into the shower instead. Aiming the warm water on my belly really helped the contractions be more manageable. When Andy came back, he accompanied me on my laps around the house, which was so nice. I also walked up and down the stairs as much as I could to help the baby drop down.
I tried the exercise ball, and while there, asked the midwives how I will know when to push. I was very discouraged that I wasn’t feeling the urge, even though, earlier, the midwives had implied I was completely dilated. It was especially nerve-wracking because I know how important it is to push a breech baby out quickly. Interestingly enough, although it was always a concern of mine in pregnancy, the thought of Uterine Rupture only occurred to me in passing when I would feel some twinges of adhesion pain. But, from the research I had done, I knew that’s what it was, b/c they were minor, associated with movement and would pass.
We went upstairs at 12 pm. The midwives checked me and told me that I could try “practice pushing” if I wanted to. While I did, J pushed on my son externally to help get him more centered, as he had again drifted to an almost diagonal position. I tried various positions, hands and knees, birth stool, semi-sitting, etc. and nothing was comfortable.
Pushing was a great fear of mine, because I have always had trouble communicating to my body what I want it to do, and again, I knew it was of the utmost importance to push the breech baby out quickly. Intellectually, I know that I am a large-framed person and I doubted that head entrapment would really be an issue, but it still worried me some.
At one point, my midwife, S said, “You aren’t going to get the baby out pushing that way” (taking breaks during a contraction). She didn’t mean for it to, but this really played into my fears of not being able to push correctly. At this point, my wonderful husband said to me,
"Think about the email you will get to compose to ICAN; start writing it in your
head.” He knew just what to say to give me hope! I told them I was worried and getting frustrated, so they suggested I shower and then rest with Andy.
The contractions were much stronger at this point, and the shower didn’t even take the edge off. I was still very frustrated with pushing and not feeling the urge, so S and J suggested that Andy and I lay down together again to rest. Later, S told me that I always progressed when Andy and I spent time lying together. I thought this a wonderful testament to our relationship.
The contractions were hard to handle lying down, but I was somehow able to doze between them. After only a few minutes, I had a monster contraction and literally jumped out of bed. When this would happen, I always headed straight for the bathroom, where I would usually have contractions one on top of the other. I heard S say to Andy in her mother tone, “I thought she was
resting.” Both midwives were downstairs at this point. I asked him to ask
them if I should push if I felt like it (and I did) and they said “Sure.” I reached down and felt into my vagina and felt something, which I guessed to be a foot.
Andy went and got the mirror and flashlight and sure enough, a foot was emerging. I could see the wrinkles on the sole of his feet—so exciting! I began grunting and involuntarily pushing at this point and suddenly, heard the midwives rush up the stairs. The sound of their feet stomping up those stairs is one I will never forget! It was really getting exciting! I was going to do this!
The midwives quickly set up the birth stool and moved me from the toilet to it (figuring I didn’t want to have him on the toilet). By the time I stood up to move, his foot was hanging down. Just a few pushes (and about 7 minutes) later, and our little Ryan joined our family! It was absolutely amazing!!!!!!!! I had been worried my body wouldn’t know how to push, but it knew exactly what to do!!!!
As soon as he was out, I began bleeding quite heavily, and the midwives very calmly moved me to the floor. They kept asking me if I was there with them, and I was getting annoyed, and told them of course I was. Later they told me that I had lost all the blood I was “allowed” to lose and they were worried I would lose consciousness. I was just elated with my baby, the birth and my body and annoyed to be lying on the uncomfortable hardwood floor!
I do feel some sadness when I think of the way my other two children entered this world, especially my daughter, who was in almost the exact position that her brother was in (almost diagonal). I have slightly more peace with my son’s birth, given that he was transverse and my water had broken, making a version unsafe according to my research. But, again, I didn’t know then what I know now and I don’t think I would have appreciated Ryan’s birth nearly as much if it weren’t for the first two births.
It is amazing to me how far-reaching the impact of this beautiful birth has been. I truly feel like a different person; more at peace than I was before. I look at life with a lot more joy. And, I feel much more “whole” as a mom. I think a part of me didn’t feel right even giving myself that title before, since I hadn’t really given birth to them. Sad, but true.
I can’t thank the women of ICAN enough and I plan to do what I can to give back as an ICAN Chapter Leader.
Sara Ryan's Story (c/s at full dilation; "failed" TOL c/s; VBA2C at birth center)