I don't regret my c-sections. I never mourned a lost birth experience or felt like less of a woman because my babies were cut out instead of being pushed out. I also never felt like having a vaginal birth was going to be the key to my womanhood or motherhood. I went to vbac support groups throughout the pregnancy and heard story after story of women who were depressed and broken after their c-section and it made their vbac journey that much more powerful. I feel like my desire for a natural birth was based on something much more simple: I wanted to know I could do it and I wanted my baby to come out in the most healthy way possible, in the way God designed for it to happen. It had very little to do with what I wanted for my body as I'd had two rather uneventful cesareans before. My preference was to avoid surgery, but it wouldn't have been the worst part for me if Milo's birth had turned out differently. I feel so sad for women that had expectations that weren't met in their previous births, and I'm lucky that I was so young and naive that I had no preconceived notions on how my birth would go, other than that my baby would come out healthy.
Looking back and it's no surprise that I had no desires for a natural normal birth. I was a cesarean baby and my Mom was born in a hospital as my Grandma was strapped down, drugged and labored by herself. I had no reference to what was considered a "normal delivery". In my preparation for this birth, my doula asked me to consider what birth philosophies I was bringing into this delivery. I had six very specific birth experiences to draw from:
1. My mom having two cesareans. I grew up thinking this is the normal way babies come out. I never remember being curious about natural birth because I was never really exposed to it. I assumed cesareans were normal. I never questioned it.
2. When my aunt had my cousin, my mom was there. I remembered my mom talking about how horrifying it was to watch the baby "go in and out" and how the baby looked like an alien when it came out. (Oh hey Tori!) I had never heard anything about what cesarean babies looked like, so in my young mind I pictured beautiful pink little babies being cut out and purple cone-headed aliens being pushed out.
3. My other aunt talking to my mom about how she was so swollen down there that she couldn't even sit down. I'd asked my mom growing up if it hurt when I was cut out and she'd explain that she was numb and didn't feeling anything. Thus with little understanding of post-surgery reality, I associated natural birth with pain.
4. I had pre-eclampsia with Elyse and my blood pressure was too high so I had to be induced at around 38 weeks. Being induced with Elyse, I never experienced the spontaneous onset of labor and after three failed days of induction, she had to be cut out after showing signs of distress. I believe that she was truly in distress and that it was a legitimate emergency cesarean.
5. I was there when my friend Gracie had her baby. She had an epidural and her labor and delivery seemed effortless. Her baby came out pink and beautiful. My mind was blown.
6. The doctor telling me that if I tried to have a vaginal birth with Andy, I was risking the safety of my baby so I scheduled a repeat cesarean. It felt a lot different going to the hospital when there wasn't an emergency. It was a lot scarier. Andy was born and had to be in the NICU for a week because he wasn't ready to be born yet. I felt responsible and angry.
When I became pregnant with baby number 3, I automatically assumed it'd be a repeat c-section. It wasn't until about 16 weeks that I found a video about natural cesareans that I started to change positions. I was moved by the idea that I could control the environment and conditions of my child's birth. I'm at the age where I'm coming into my own independence and it aligned with that sense of "I'm the master of my ship" mentality. I wanted my baby to come on it's own time. I didn't want him to be pulled from me, but eased out (called delayed transition). I wanted my cord to be cut after it stopped pulsing. I wanted my baby to lay on my chest after being born so we could bond and I could experience that rush of oxytocin. Seeing that natural cesarean video made me realize that I never tried to make my birth experiences "special" before. My delivery had previously been means to an end in which I show up at the hospital and the doctor helps me take the baby out and then we start our new special life together. I was energized by the idea that I could take this event and make it my own. I went to the doctor primed with new ideas about how I wanted my cesarean to go. After shooting down all of my ideas, telling me they weren't "possible" or "safe", they ended the appointment by laughing at me when I asked to hold him on my chest after he was born while I was still on the operating table. I left discouraged and sad.
Shortly after that conversation, I realized that I was trying to shape my cesarean into a natural vaginal birth. Why not just push him out? How dangerous is it? Will I be selfishly putting my life on the line when I already have a husband and kids that need me? Could my baby die? Will my girly parts be wrecked? Will my husband still want to have sex with me? These are all things that I had to find out, and I did. I took on this challenge for vbac like I would anything else - full force and with reckless abandon. Every doctor or person in my life that told me I couldn't do it, strengthened my resolve that I could and would. I had doctor's tell me throughout the whole pregnancy that he was too "big" or that if xyz happened, I would have to have another cesarean. I had one doctor tell me, "We don't even know if you can have a vaginal delivery...". It seems like such a harmless statement but it devastated me. It was the most insulting insinuation that my body would somehow not work like it was supposed to. He was attacking my the very essence of my womanhood. I cried the whole day over it, then got angry and more resolved. I went through four doctors and several doctor interviews until I found one that didn't make me feel like my birth preferences were second to their priorities. I was so frustrated that I stopped all vbac planning around 6 weeks. I was tired of fighting and just wanted to enjoy my pregnancy for awhile. I found Dr. Plimpton after that and he ended up being the keeper.
The whole VBAC experience changed me in a very intricate and complex way. I realized a lot about my philosophy of birth and I gained the confidence to be in charge of my body. I made sure that doctors acted like they were performing a service, not like they were doing me a favor by being my doctor. I learned to educate myself on all birth scenarios so that there was nothing I would be ignorantly talked into. I grew into a stronger woman when I realized that this was my birth and that I wanted to experience with my husband alone. It was a lesson in wisdom and patience. I had to train my brain and my thoughts to prepare for plan B. What if I do have a cesarean? What do I have to do to ensure I don't feel disappointed in myself if that happens?
Achieving my VBAC was my greatest accomplishment. I'd never spent so much time planning for something so important to me, making sure every detail was in place and that I had done everything I could. I can honestly say I put 110% into my success. Even when things didn't go as planned (tons of pain, worthless epidural, slow progress), I still made it. When I wanted to quit, I didn't. I pushed that baby out of me! He came exactly when he was supposed to without a single medical intervention. Sometimes it seems to good to be real. I get overcome with pride in my baby, in my body and I am grateful that for that experience.
So even though I didn't have any traumatizing cesarean experiences, I still found the fight inside of me. With odds stacked against me and against negative doctors, I kept going.
I chose my birth and what I wanted for my body and I did it, goddammit.
And it was amazing.
No comments:
Post a Comment