Birth Story

This is my daughter's birth story. Comments below are from when I had it posted on a previous blog.


Sunday, June 5, 2011

As Tears Run Down My Cheeks

It's 6:40am. Propped up on pillows, my laptop on my leg.
My baby is lying next to me, cuddled in blankets, cooing in her sleep. She looks so peaceful.
My husband is lying next to her on the other side of the bed, trying to catch up on some much needed sleep.

Our little baby girl, "C" was born May 25th, at 12:55pm.
She weighed 9 pounds 8 ounces, and was 19 1/2 inches long.
She has a head full of dark hair, chubby cheeks, a tiny little chin that rest above a little roll of double chin.
Her mouth is delicate, her button nose turns up slightly, and her eyes, when open, are big, blue and searching.

Tears are inevitable as I write this.
She wasn't born the way I had hoped and planned.
She was born while I faced my greatest fear, struggling to overcome it in that moment, knowing that all that mattered in the end was her safety.

Having had prodromal labor for about 2 weeks, and being dilated to 3, 50% effaced for about a week, I wondered every day when would be the day she would arrive (we didn't know at the time what her gender was). Finally, on May 24th (my EDD) at 12:20am, I was laying in bed praying for safety and health over my little family, and thanking God for how amazingly He had blessed us.
As I began to drift into peaceful sleep, my body jerked downwards as a gush of water ran between my legs. It felt like a water balloon had just burst inside me. I had never felt anything like that before.
My eyes popped wide open, and I touched my husband’s shoulder, waking him to tell him my water had just broken. He sat up fast, rushing to the bathroom to get a towel, as I stood up to dry off.
Sitting on the toilet, as I was still leaking fluid, my contractions started immediately and strong.
I asked my husband to call our midwife’s assistant, just to let her know my water had broken.
Moments after he got off the phone my midwife called and asked if I wanted her to come. I said yes, as I just had a feeling things were moving fast.
We spread towels on the bathroom floor by the toilet, and my husband got my birthing ball at my request.
I went back and forth between sitting on the toilet and rocking hands and knees on my birthing ball, while my husband starting filling the birth pool in our living room.

My midwife got to our house about 10-15 minutes later, and her assistant arrived not too far behind.
I don't know how long it was before they told me I could get in the pool or not, but it didn't seem too long. Time was standing still for me, as I breathed through each contraction.
I didn't feel like it was quite time to get in the pool, but I believe it was about 15 minutes later that a worked my way to the living room, asking them to shut off the bright lights.
Climbing into the pool, the warm water enveloped me like a cozy blanket, and relaxed every muscle in my body. While I was mostly in the pool, moving with the contractions, and changing positions as I felt the need, I also labored a little on the toilet and also just standing.
My midwife asked me (probably a few hours into my labor) if she would like me to have her check my progress, and I said yes. I was at 8cm dilated.

Time was non-existent as I labored for almost 11 hours. It was surreal, beautiful, primal and intense.
My husband held my hands, brought cool rags, supported me...he was joining me completely on this journey through birth. We were bonding in a way I had never imagined.

There were times I felt the urge to push, and so I did. There were times I could feel the baby move down.
The baby having been breech the entire pregnancy, my midwife kept a close eye on my progression, as well as the baby's heart rate.
But, after 11 hours, my midwife had me labor on the toilet for a time, so that gravity could work its magic, as the water was relaxing me too much, and the baby wasn't moving down.

After about 10 minutes on the toilet, stood up to walk around. My midwife checked my again, saying the baby still hadn't dropped.
And that's when we had to talk. She gently told me that she felt it was time to move to the hospital, as my progression had stopped.
I asked her if she felt comfortable waiting another hour before we made a decision.
She said yes. I asked my husband to come pray with me, as I was beginning to struggle with what may happen.
I labored walking around, kneeling by the bed and then climbed back into the birth pool.
After another hour, my contractions had started to slow down, and my midwife said that it was time.
I started crying, sad and scared at what I faced in the next few hours, and saying how disappointed I was in myself.
My midwife looked me in the eyes and said, "Your body has done exactly what it should have done, and quickly. There will be another chance to have the birth you hoped for. YOU ARE NOT BROKEN."
I can't even begin to describe what those words meant to me...I was facing my greatest fear, while at my most vulnerable time.
Doubts about my body's ability, the safety of my baby, the sadness and fear that were quickly invading, were quickly opening a wound in my mind that threatened to be so deep, I would never recover.
Her words were like a salve on that wound.

I climbed out of the pool, and started to get dressed, as everyone got things ready to go to the hospital.
My contractions had slowed to almost nothing at home, but picked up on the 20 minute drive to the hospital, and with the walking around, had become excruciating by the time I was on my side on the table, being hooked up to monitors, IV's and a myriad of other things. There were so many people coming in and out, bright lights and noise.
The doctor was not gentle, nor did he warn me when he checked my dilation.
Between that and my contractions, laying on my side made me feel like I wanted to die right there.
The IV hurt going in, and I just wanted things to be over.
Moving me into the operating room, my midwife had to wait in recovery, and my husband was whisked away by the doctor.
I was alone with strangers (they were nice ones, at least, explaining what was going on, as they did it), bright lights and metal.
Transferred to a different table/bed, they gave me the spinal (which was painful), and things started to go numb.
Laying me down, they put oxygen lines in my nose and began to set up the curtain, and I could hear the trays of tools being wheeled around.
I asked where my husband was, and they told me he would be in soon, but couldn't come in until the doctor was ready.
It seemed like forever until they let him in. They told him where to sit, and though it was near me, it was also behind me, so I couldn't really see him.
I thought I would be able to feel pressure from them touching me and moving things around, but I was completely numb. From my breasts down to my toes, I felt nothing.
The doctor talked through the entire process to his assistant, and while I later found out he was making jokes with the assistant, during the process, it sounded to me as though they were making mistakes, and tried hard not to freak out.
I closed my eyes, and attempted to think about nothing but the fact that I would see my baby soon.
A few moments later, they told my husband to stand up and look over the curtain. I heard them say something about the cord being wrapped around the neck once, and that the baby was a girl.
Tears were streaming down my cheeks as I heard a single, strong cry. She didn't scream or cry, but was quiet as they checked her. After cleaning her off and wrapping her up, they brought her around for me to see. She was beautiful. Her eyes trying to focus in the bright light, questioning what was going on. They immediately whisked her away to the NICU, my husband going along, as I didn't want her to be alone, and we didn't want her to receive any shots or medications.
It seemed like forever for them to sew me up, but really, the entire process, from the moment we were there, until the end of the surgery was maybe an hour.

They moved me to recovery, where my midwife was waiting. I don't remember to much, although at the time I thought I was fully aware.
My husband came in a while later to tell me how our little girl was doing, and to be with me.
He told me they were keeping her in the NICU because of low blood sugar, and wouldn't bring her to me to initiate breastfeeding.
I didn't get to see her for 8 hours. That night, the nurses helped me into a wheelchair and my husband and I went down to the NICU to see her.
I cried, and cried and cried. The nurse that was taking care of her was so kind, and he even offered to help get her breastfeeding. But a few moments later, they got a call that a really sick, tiny baby was coming in, and we wouldn't be able to stay much longer because they couldn't have anyone in there while they hooked him up to the machines.
I did get to hold her though, for about 15-20 minutes.

The next three days in recovery were hard, but I got to go see "C" every day, and as I could walk more, a few times a day. I had a breast pump to use from the hospital, and received help from the lactation consultants the first 2 days to initiate breastfeeding, but not enough to actually get her breastfeeding (that’s a story in itself).
"C" was released to us the afternoon of day 4, after her blood sugars had regulated, and the heart murmur had disappeared, which we had out about on the second day, so she was hooked up to oxygen. The doctor said it was normal for breech babies, and that after the oxygen, she would be just fine and it would heal itself.
I was also discharged from the hospital on day 4, so we all got to go home together.
There had been a chance that "C" may have had to stay, and it was a huge struggle for me to think about that possibility. Thankfully, she didn't have to.
On the 4th day, the day that we were leaving, my husband had gone to pull the car up, and I was holding our little girl, staring at her beautiful little face.
She looked at me with big, wide eyes as I started to cry and tell her that I was sorry her birth had not gone as planned, that I was sorry I couldn't hold her right away, or be with her right after she had been born.
I told her that I loved her so much, that I was so proud of her, that I was so glad to finally meet her, that she would always be safe in the arms of her mommy and daddy.
She never once broke my gaze as I told her these things...

It's been a week and a few days since we've been home, and she is doing wonderfully.
She is a perfect sweetheart.
I struggle with the way her birth had to be, but I am also so thankful that she came on her own time.
My water broke when it was supposed to, and I was able to labor for 12 hours.
I have a beautiful, healthy baby girl, and my recovery has been going so very well.

And while this birth was a far cry different than what I had planned, I have faced my one of greatest fears (c-sections) head on, and came out on top, and stronger for it.


Comments:

Jaci said...

Beautiful story mama. If you haven't already, definitely check out ICAN, hopefully they can help you work through some of the feelings you have about your daughter's birth story. Thanks for sharing!

June 5, 2011 11:37 AM 

Karen said...

beautiful. thank you for sharing.

June 5, 2011 2:44 PM 

Steph said...

A friend of mine linked your birth story on facebook and I'm so glad I read it.

My first baby, my daughter, was footling breech. We had a scheduled c-birth. It was hard. It was so hard. I had been prepared for a surgery, but not so prepared for a birth. We had some issues with nursing and with bonding, but babywearing and cosleeping and just lots of love and patience helped with that. She is now a beautiful 4 and a half year old getting ready to start school in the fall.

My second, my son, I was determined to birth vaginally, and I did. I had weeks of prodormal labour, and I "forgot" to go in to be induced at the 41wk mark. There were 3 times during my labour where a Dr. could have justified another c-section (as VBACs are still seen as "high risk" and called a "trial of labour"), but I was blessed with a Dr who supported my choices, and I was able to push my son into the world just as I planned.

My son's birth was a great healing experience for me. As much as I had come to peace with my daughter's birth and the events around it (especially the attachment issues), it wasn't until he was born that I really let it go and was able to see the full joy of it.

I hope you are able to heal emotionally sooner than I did. I hope you find support and understanding (the idea that "at least you have a happy baby" is good enough is so shallow and short sighted, but many people don't seem to see that).

Also, the above information about ICAN is wonderful - there is so much support and understanding available there.

Best of everything to you and your family.

June 5, 2011 3:32 PM 

Susana said...

What a wonderfully, well written story. I am honored to have the privilege of reading the sacred thoughts and feelings of your heart.

June 19, 2011 10:08 PM 

Jesse Franks said...

Hi Shianne. Thanks for sharing your story. I found it on the ICAN facebook page. I had a c-section June 2010. I still struggle with recovery. I hope you are able to attend ICAN meetings. I cried through my first 4. Healing is not an easy road to go down, but you have the right start! I commend you for writing down your daughters birth story. It was one of the hardest things I've had to do, and too me months to finish. She is gorgeous. I too have a blog, hope it can help. www.vbacorbust.blogspot.com
Sending Love,
Jesse Franks

July 12, 2011 1:41 PM 

Update: June 29, 2012

I've had a year now to process everything about "C's" birth, our struggles with breastfeeding (a story I'll share in the future)...
In looking back, I see things that I may have done differently, struggle with feelings of guilt...but in all that, I'm so thankful for the midwife I had, and the hospital staff that attended me, even the doctor who did the surgery.
Physically, I healed quickly, no infections, etc.
Emotionally, it has gotten "better", but I still have things to work through.
"C" is a joy to us - a complete sweetheart, and growing so quickly.


For more beautiful birth stories, head over to Mommypotamus’ birth story carnival