Carly’s Birth Story #2
December 29, 2019
When my birth looked nothing like I ever imagined it would.
As I was writing this- I uncovered some feelings about my birth that I hadn’t unearthed yet, so the way I wrote it is the way I am able to write it right now.
As things become clearer or more feelings surface, I may edit it later.
This was a difficult birth experience for me to process, forgive me if it feels robotic and not a bubbly birth story you may be used to
Let me jump right to the end- I had a "planned" C-section with my second baby. If you asked the baby, C-section was definitely the all along plan, but if you asked me, it was anything but the plan.
I tried EVERYTHING to avoid a C-section. Here's the list of it all:
chiropractic adjustments
massage
Spinning Babies exercises
hot pack to my perineum, cold back to the top of my belly
playing music through a toilet paper roll at my vagina 🤦🏻♀️
prayer
bought a membership to a local YMCA to use their pool
laying upside down on an ironing board propped on couch
external cephalic version (ECV) more on that below
and guess what, my little breech boy was breech through and through.
<—Here I am on Christmas day, 4 days before baby time!
I honestly cannot pinpoint the exact reason why a C-section was terrifying to me. I knew the hospital staff well, have been present for many C-sections as a nurse, trusted my midwife/OB team. Yet my rational brain couldn't stop those pregnancy hormones from wreaking havoc in my mind.
Between 32 and 36 weeks, I tried ALL the things above, more than just once, it consumed me.
At 36 weeks, I made the tough decision to move forward with an external cephalic version (ECV). This is when the OB uses their hands to rotate baby from a head up to head down position. This is successful more than 50% of the time, but it is not without its risks. I was asked to not eat morning of (in case I needed an emergent C-section), needed baseline bloodwork, was given a medication to relax my uterus, was done under partial ultrasound guidance, and was very painful. Baby didn't like it either- his heartrate dropped and stayed low indicating distress, so we stopped and stayed for hours for monitoring. So also add traumatic to the list of what an ECV was to me. I scheduled my C-section for early January 2020 before I even changed out of the hospital gown.
I was glad I tried what I felt like was everything to birth my baby head down vaginally. Vaginal breech births are very possible, and I was the perfect candidate for one having a quick and previous vaginal birth not long before. But a vaginal breech birth was not an option for me personally, so I truly did feel like I tried it all.
I instead dove head first (ironic right?) into preparing for the winter holidays and spending quality time with my first baby. We hosted Christmas Eve/day for three separate family groups and I was moving slow but feeling great physically. I emotionally wasn't struggling with the idea of a C-section as much as I anticipated. I am great at hyperfocusing on something to distract myself from another.
The day of
Sunday, December 29th- 38 weeks 2 days I was making a double batch of banana bread with my toddler, one to freeze for postpartum, one to give to my sister as a birthday treat the next day. I had a wicked headache throughout, but could not pinpoint what the true cause was because there were many potential suspects. During his naptime I checked my blood pressure (with an electric cuff I had from high BPs after my first baby), it was high. I called the hospital to see if my favorite OB was on, they weren't. So instead I took Tylenol and took a nap for an hour. (aren’t nurses the worst patients?!?) My husband woke me up with the BP cuff and lying down after a nap my BP was still high. CRAP okay, let's do this.
We scrambled calling my sister to come over, postponing her birthday plans to come watch my 2 year old. My bag was mostly packed so I threw the last few items inside. My toddler was in an awful mood when we left I will never forget it, I felt like I couldn't leave him like that but I had no safe choice not to.
We got to the hospital and my blood pressure stayed high, C-section day it was. We waited until the granola bar I ate right before my nap digested a little more since the BP was high but stable and there was no protein in my urine. My midwife arrived and so did the OB. I was nervously joking, and trying to convince myself to feel brave, but my stomach was in knots. The nurse used an electric razor to prep the site prior to surgery. (nurse tip, we DO NOT care if you shave or not, any kind of birth!- no one needs ingrown hairs while recovering!)
It is not often you know little mundane everyday things will be your last before xyz in motherhood. But my last pee, last sip of water, last hug with my husband, last picking up something on the ground felt so eerie knowing the next time I would be doing it was after major surgery. However the eeriest was walking into the OR and hopping up onto the table. It's pretty standard for planned C-sections, but my brain was going into overdrive.
The surgery
My husband waited outside the OR while I was "prepped" for surgery. The prep insisted of spinal anesthesia line placement, sitting on the side of the surgery table, urinary catheter in, cleaning the surrounding skin, placing sterile drapes up, while many nurses, surgical techs, doctor, and midwife, operating surgeon and anesthesiologist milled about...surrounded by people, some of which I knew very well, but feeling utterly alone.
It felt like my brain was split down the middle, and I was jumping back and forth from side to side. The one side was the rational, procedural one, knowing things were smooth and I was safe. The other side wanted to fight my baby being born in this way, telling myself this isn't what I wanted, it didn't feel right to me. I held it together mostly in the rational side of my brain until my husband was let back into the operating room and I lost it. I was in full-blown panic attack (which I had only very few of in my entire life) and was in complete denial that it was happening.
From when my husband entered to when baby was born, it was probably only 10 minutes, but I had enough racing thoughts to write an entire book. I didn't feel pain, some serious tugging and pulling, but I honestly wasn't even focused on my physical sensations, just the emotional ones. He and my midwife were up at either side of my head, keeping me as calm as they could, but I just wanted it to be over- their presence was supportive, non-dismissive and not trying to spin things positively, and what I needed in that moment.
Then at 8:20pm, Miles made his grand entrance until the world, 7lb 6oz, screaming, covered in cheesey vernix just like big brother and a hue of blue where he needed a few minutes to get that oxgenated circulation flowing to turn pink (like so many other babies!)
He was getting checked out away from me and out of sight, but my midwife stayed with me. Talked me through everything they were doing to him until my husband proudly brought Mr. Miles over to me. I wanted to hold him or stroke his face or do anything more than awkwardly kiss him and bend my arm backwards, but then the nausea came on FAST AND FURIOUS. Sparing the details for those without nurse stomachs, but zero stars, would not recommend the nausea, wretching, vomiting, intense shivers and teeth chattering I experienced while my husband stood back helpless with our baby.
The recovery
Once I was out of the operating room, I probably felt some level of relief then, but cannot say for sure. My husband and Miles met in the recovery room where I stayed for a few hours after the surgery to stabilize before moving to a postpartum room.
I kept waiting for the wave of immediate bond or wave of love and emotion, but it didn’t come. And the fact that it wasn’t coming during that first time I was holding and doing skin-to-skin with him, it was making me even more anxious. But it came, not until the next day.
The recovery from here on out was honestly better than I anticipated, probably because I anticipated the worst! Kidding there to some degree, but when your emotions are on overdrive, nothing makes sense.
As promised above, this might not have been the warm & fuzzy birth story you were hoping for. At times writing this it felt like I was giving report to another nurse on one of our patients. I am continuing to process Miles’ birth and my transformation in the process. This type of birth is more common than you may hear about.
I won’t say I wouldn’t have had it any other way, because if you’ve read this far, you know that isn’t true.
Thank you for reading and supporting me as I process 12/29/2019.
Everyone’s birth story and experience is their own. We wanted to share this with you to share a part of ourselves. Nothing in this birth story and our future birth stories is the “right" or “wrong” way, just the way it happened <3
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