So I felt called to start blogging. I didn't really have a focus and there are literally a zillion mommy blogs covering the day to day adventures of the stay at home mom. So why should anyone read my blog versus all the other blogs out there. What would draw anyone in? Would this just be an outlet for me or would I be using my gifts to do something that might help other people as well? Something I really want, and was shocked that a lot of the moms I've come in contact with have not wanted is a VBAC. I had a cesarean section and didn't want one. I'm certainly thankful for the outcome, my healthy little boy, but I can't help feeling a little disappointed in my birth experience. I want to feel labor. I want to know what a contraction feels like, and I want to hear my next baby's first cry, I want to be able to hold him/her right away. I've decided that I'm going to do whatever it takes to get the most organic birth experience I can.
This may seem a bit off base not knowing my birth story for my son. I'll give an abridged version of how things went. I could probably write a book about it.
I had moved and selected an OBGYN out of the yellow pages. Since I was a new patient and didn't have a regular doctor at the practice, it was the luck of the draw who I'd see, and most of the the time it was the nurse practitioner. I had a great pregnancy, as far as I knew and what I was told. The nurse practitioner gave me an ultrasound at 38 weeks because I felt "packed full of baby," and the next week, one of the doctors ordered another one to check size and weight. Again, no one said anything about what I came to discover from the doctor who delivered my baby was high fluid. Anyway, my due date came and went. Without asking me what my preference was, the Nurse Practitioner scheduled me for p-gel to help "nudge" labor along. Nothing happened. At the start of my 41st week, I was scheduled for induction. I was ready to meet my baby boy. I was hooked up to pitocen for a few hours when the doctor decided to break my water. I don't know why, I wasn't feeling contractions, I wasn't progressing as far as I could tell. They broke my water. My son's heart beat was lost on the moniter. They decided to prep the OR and get me down there. They said they would stop and I could labor if the heart rate came back up. It didn't and while I was moving to the stretcher to get to the OR, the cord prolapsed. I was knocked out and my son, Josiah, was born at 10:47 am on July 19th, 2010. My water was broken at 10:18. It was fast. I apparently didn't wake very pleasantly from being knocked out. I ripped out my IV and at one point 5 nurses had to hold me down. When I finally woke up, one of the first things I told my husband was "I feel everything." Restarting my IV delayed pain medication. I couldn't remember why I was in the hospital. He had to tell me the baby was born. I didn't get to meet my son until after 1 pm. It wasn't what I dreamed of when we found out we were pregnant. I am still disappointed in my experience, although, I am very grateful for the outcome. Almost 8 months later, as my belly is shrinking, I still get pains where my scar is. Sometimes it is sore and bruised from wearing jeans. It is what it is, but I don't know why anyone would want to do it again. Maybe that's just me.
So, my focus is attaining a VBAC. I'll have more to say another time, but for now that's it. I'll leave you with this poem. It has been a source of comfort to me since I had my son.
My Cesarean Poem
I had a cesarean
I didn't want one
I wanted a baby
All wet and messy
Plopped onto my bare chest
To comfort in his first moment
By the stroke of my hand
And a nuzzle at my breast
I had a cesarean
All betadine and beeping machines
And anonymous blue masks
Seeing my insides
And me- numb to my toes
With no feeling
Except heartbreak
My plans
And my dreams
Were betrayed
By the orange label
Attached to my chart
Code for "high risk"
I didn't feel high risk
I hated that label
Who are these people
Did you start?
I'm here! I'm here! Why is
No one talking to me?
I hear my baby cry, my baby cry
But can't see MY BABY
My baby, my baby, someone bring me
My baby
No answers
No explanation
I am alone
Except for the blue masks
Putting my insides back in.
He was brought to me
Already clean and wrapped
And frantic
I couldn't even hold him
I'm sure it is not what he expected
Either.
Then the blood
Then the pain
My belly no longer full of baby
Grew distended with air
"It doesn't matter now" woman #1 said
"I had three cesareans, they are no big deal" bitch #2 said
"Your sister sprang right back" my mother said
(My sister was 19)
I have flashbacks
Like a war vet
And a sadness that
No one wants to hear about
And pain.
It does matter
It is a big deal
It is a mourning
I had a cesarean
I didn't want one.
-Barbara Stratton
Mom to Charlie born 1999 by cesarean section
