Showing posts with label birth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label birth. Show all posts
Monday, June 7, 2010
My VBA2C and yes, I claim it!
For some reason, it has taken me 4 years and 4 months to write this and my previous birth stories. I understand why I am doing it now. I am on the cusp of a new chapter and old chapters need closure before new ones can begin with full attention.....
Even after the debacle that was the cbac birth of my daughter and despite our previous experiences with infertility, I was hopeful that I would somehow find a way to birth another baby. One day I was walking through Costco and saw one of those mega packs of pregnancy tests. I looked at the package and thought "I'm pregnant". I went from there to see my hair "guy" but peed on the stick in the salon's bathroom. Yep, I was pregnant and I wasn't even late yet. Yeah! Even though I was of "advanced maternal age" at 39 at that time, I was quite certain of the outcome. I would carry the baby to term and deliver him/her vaginally and naturally. I knew this with every fiber of my being.
I began prenatal care with my OB/RE and didn't mention anything about wanting a vba2c. I knew he wouldn't go for it and it wasn't worth stressing either of us out over it. In the meantime I began to call OB offices in Chicago, found the national ICAN yahoo group (my lifesaver), and attended homebirth meetups to learn more about natural birth. None of the OBs I contacted would even consider a vba2c, neither would any of the home birth midwives or the one home birth OB in town. So many times I posted pathetic messages on the ICAN group like "All hope is gone" and "why am I being so stubborn". Thankfully my ICAN friends always brought me back to reality and reminded me that there are ALWAYs options, even when we don't think so. They helped me see that my hard labors might have been due to malposition. #1 had a compound presentation and I think #2 was anterior. I started to see a chiropractor to give myself an edge on positioning (plus I was still in pain from the dislocated sacrum from #2 labor). I exercised and was the healthiest I really had ever been. I spent hours reading birth stories, studying the research and understanding my fear of birth/pain. I ordered a hypnobirthing home study CD set and listened to it every night. I found a wonderful doula who was a vbac and hbac mom herself. I was increasingly strong, determined and unwilling to compromise. Family and friends "worried" about me but I was very clear that I was following my instinct and honoring my inner wisdom. Plus, I knew that I was growing within myself a stronger woman, a woman who "finishes what she starts". No more did I say things to myself like "I want a natural birth, but I won't be a martyr if I need an epidural or c/s". Now I told myself "no one knows YOUR body better than YOU, interventions are NOT an option. Period."
Finally, when literally all my options were exhausted, I decided to ask one of the midwives at the hospital where I work if they ever had cared for women who wanted vba2c. You can not believe how much courage this took! I work in the NICU as a developmental specialist and I'm always trying to balance what babies and families need for support against the realities of the medical team's emotional availability to be open to new concepts and paradigms so that I can gradually mold that availabilty for the benefit of babies/families. One of the most enlightening aspects of this journey for me was how relevant my road to vba2c was to my professional passions. Anyway, the midwife told me, as if this was not even a big deal, "yes, we support vba2c, in fact our chief is actively working to keep our primary and repeat c/s rates low." Wow. I was so surprised! Could I imagine giving birth just a few steps away from my office? I felt horribly vulnerable but that wasn't going to stop me. I'd found a supportive caregiver!!!
A few miscommunications later and a few VERY satisfying episodes of telling-off stupid residents by citing actual evidence, I officially switched providers at 32 weeks.
The night before my due date, I went to bed around 10pm with some early contractions. I slept for a little while but then woke up around 2 am and practiced breathing and using the relaxation techniques from the hypnobirthing CD. That worked for about an hour then I went downstairs and got out my birth ball and just rocked on it for awhile. Around 6 am I woke up my husband and told him that things were progressing. I fully expected this time that I might have the same quick, intense labor as I did before so I didn't panic when the contractions became difficult to manage. I had also arranged to have a TENS unit as an option for pain control so I stuck that on and continued to rock over the ball while my husband called our doula, Tama, and got the kids ready for school. Tama got to the house around 7:30 am and my husband took the kids to school. Tama encouraged me to squat but that made the contractions really intense. I remember thinking "you are resisting the process! just let go and let it happen!" When hubby got back we decided to try some time in the bathtub. Oh heavenly bathtub!!!! The contractions were still intense but I felt like I could stay "on top" of them while in the water. It was a sunny but bitterly cold January day and the hot water ran out early on. Hubby literally was boiling water and pouring it in the tub. I was so angry that he couldn't get the water warm enough! lol.
Tama was perfect. She simply sat next to the tub and calming interjected a few times to breathe. She somehow knew that what I really needed was her physical presence, without any undo distraction. I loved the tub and didn't ever want to get out. Oh why didn't I plan a UBA2C! I really wanted to stay at home at that point but I thought that probably wasn't fair to Tama to ask it of her. She finally coaxed me out of the tub. I remember being so afraid that my water would break if I walked across the living room to go out to the car. They finally got me in the car around 11am wearing only a sports bra and a towel wrapped around my waist. :-) Incredibly the contractions slowed and mellowed on the way to the hospital. I actually felt good, sensual and so in-control! I was totally into it, moaning and breathing, it was great. I got to the hospital and of course the ER wanted to ask me a whole bunch of stupid questions to which I gave them NOTHING. I didn't owe them anything. This birth was on my terms. In the elevator I was "vocalizing" and I heard someone say, "is that Jennifer"? Ugh, yes, giving birth at work is a bit, well, public. And there I was basically naked on an elevator full of colleagues.
One of my big fears from before was Triage. I had my husband call the unit to tell them we were coming and to make sure an actual room was available. My midwife friend (who wasn't allowed to deliver with me due to me being high-risk, puke) had everything smoothed over for me and we went right into a room. Of course right away an IV went in and they slapped a monitor on me. I was squirming around so much that it was hard to get a read on the monitor. They suggested an internal monitor to which I replied "NO"!!! Geez, the baby was going to be there any minute anyway. I did agree to let them rupture my membranes and that was a huge relief. I went from 8 cm to complete instantly. My only regret is the purple pushing position thing. But it wasn't horrible and I couldn't believe I was actually pushing! It was wonderful. I felt no pain at that time. I was doing this thing that I always knew I could do and had let so many things get in the way of. As soon as my baby was born I said, "I want to do that again"! I was on such a high. My son was placed on my chest and we started nursing. This is how a nursing relationship is supposed to start! What a difference.
I had a few stitches placed, I teared a little, at the time I thought the pinching sensation was the damn residents hands in the way. Maybe it was, I was really annoyed that she was doing anything down there.
Then I got up, went to the bathroom and walked around, holding my baby. When there was a mix up with the cord bili labs, I walked down to the nicu and greeted my coworkers so that I could support my baby during a blood draw. "you don't even look like you just gave birth" and "why are you walking around"? were typical comments. But I felt great!!! I begged the doctors to let me go home early. I was out of there 20 hours after walking through the door.
My little boy was born on his due date at 12:12 pm and so was I after a very, very long gestation.
Written with love on the 9th and 7th anniversaries of 2 c/s.
Even after the debacle that was the cbac birth of my daughter and despite our previous experiences with infertility, I was hopeful that I would somehow find a way to birth another baby. One day I was walking through Costco and saw one of those mega packs of pregnancy tests. I looked at the package and thought "I'm pregnant". I went from there to see my hair "guy" but peed on the stick in the salon's bathroom. Yep, I was pregnant and I wasn't even late yet. Yeah! Even though I was of "advanced maternal age" at 39 at that time, I was quite certain of the outcome. I would carry the baby to term and deliver him/her vaginally and naturally. I knew this with every fiber of my being.
I began prenatal care with my OB/RE and didn't mention anything about wanting a vba2c. I knew he wouldn't go for it and it wasn't worth stressing either of us out over it. In the meantime I began to call OB offices in Chicago, found the national ICAN yahoo group (my lifesaver), and attended homebirth meetups to learn more about natural birth. None of the OBs I contacted would even consider a vba2c, neither would any of the home birth midwives or the one home birth OB in town. So many times I posted pathetic messages on the ICAN group like "All hope is gone" and "why am I being so stubborn". Thankfully my ICAN friends always brought me back to reality and reminded me that there are ALWAYs options, even when we don't think so. They helped me see that my hard labors might have been due to malposition. #1 had a compound presentation and I think #2 was anterior. I started to see a chiropractor to give myself an edge on positioning (plus I was still in pain from the dislocated sacrum from #2 labor). I exercised and was the healthiest I really had ever been. I spent hours reading birth stories, studying the research and understanding my fear of birth/pain. I ordered a hypnobirthing home study CD set and listened to it every night. I found a wonderful doula who was a vbac and hbac mom herself. I was increasingly strong, determined and unwilling to compromise. Family and friends "worried" about me but I was very clear that I was following my instinct and honoring my inner wisdom. Plus, I knew that I was growing within myself a stronger woman, a woman who "finishes what she starts". No more did I say things to myself like "I want a natural birth, but I won't be a martyr if I need an epidural or c/s". Now I told myself "no one knows YOUR body better than YOU, interventions are NOT an option. Period."
Finally, when literally all my options were exhausted, I decided to ask one of the midwives at the hospital where I work if they ever had cared for women who wanted vba2c. You can not believe how much courage this took! I work in the NICU as a developmental specialist and I'm always trying to balance what babies and families need for support against the realities of the medical team's emotional availability to be open to new concepts and paradigms so that I can gradually mold that availabilty for the benefit of babies/families. One of the most enlightening aspects of this journey for me was how relevant my road to vba2c was to my professional passions. Anyway, the midwife told me, as if this was not even a big deal, "yes, we support vba2c, in fact our chief is actively working to keep our primary and repeat c/s rates low." Wow. I was so surprised! Could I imagine giving birth just a few steps away from my office? I felt horribly vulnerable but that wasn't going to stop me. I'd found a supportive caregiver!!!
A few miscommunications later and a few VERY satisfying episodes of telling-off stupid residents by citing actual evidence, I officially switched providers at 32 weeks.
The night before my due date, I went to bed around 10pm with some early contractions. I slept for a little while but then woke up around 2 am and practiced breathing and using the relaxation techniques from the hypnobirthing CD. That worked for about an hour then I went downstairs and got out my birth ball and just rocked on it for awhile. Around 6 am I woke up my husband and told him that things were progressing. I fully expected this time that I might have the same quick, intense labor as I did before so I didn't panic when the contractions became difficult to manage. I had also arranged to have a TENS unit as an option for pain control so I stuck that on and continued to rock over the ball while my husband called our doula, Tama, and got the kids ready for school. Tama got to the house around 7:30 am and my husband took the kids to school. Tama encouraged me to squat but that made the contractions really intense. I remember thinking "you are resisting the process! just let go and let it happen!" When hubby got back we decided to try some time in the bathtub. Oh heavenly bathtub!!!! The contractions were still intense but I felt like I could stay "on top" of them while in the water. It was a sunny but bitterly cold January day and the hot water ran out early on. Hubby literally was boiling water and pouring it in the tub. I was so angry that he couldn't get the water warm enough! lol.
Tama was perfect. She simply sat next to the tub and calming interjected a few times to breathe. She somehow knew that what I really needed was her physical presence, without any undo distraction. I loved the tub and didn't ever want to get out. Oh why didn't I plan a UBA2C! I really wanted to stay at home at that point but I thought that probably wasn't fair to Tama to ask it of her. She finally coaxed me out of the tub. I remember being so afraid that my water would break if I walked across the living room to go out to the car. They finally got me in the car around 11am wearing only a sports bra and a towel wrapped around my waist. :-) Incredibly the contractions slowed and mellowed on the way to the hospital. I actually felt good, sensual and so in-control! I was totally into it, moaning and breathing, it was great. I got to the hospital and of course the ER wanted to ask me a whole bunch of stupid questions to which I gave them NOTHING. I didn't owe them anything. This birth was on my terms. In the elevator I was "vocalizing" and I heard someone say, "is that Jennifer"? Ugh, yes, giving birth at work is a bit, well, public. And there I was basically naked on an elevator full of colleagues.
One of my big fears from before was Triage. I had my husband call the unit to tell them we were coming and to make sure an actual room was available. My midwife friend (who wasn't allowed to deliver with me due to me being high-risk, puke) had everything smoothed over for me and we went right into a room. Of course right away an IV went in and they slapped a monitor on me. I was squirming around so much that it was hard to get a read on the monitor. They suggested an internal monitor to which I replied "NO"!!! Geez, the baby was going to be there any minute anyway. I did agree to let them rupture my membranes and that was a huge relief. I went from 8 cm to complete instantly. My only regret is the purple pushing position thing. But it wasn't horrible and I couldn't believe I was actually pushing! It was wonderful. I felt no pain at that time. I was doing this thing that I always knew I could do and had let so many things get in the way of. As soon as my baby was born I said, "I want to do that again"! I was on such a high. My son was placed on my chest and we started nursing. This is how a nursing relationship is supposed to start! What a difference.
I had a few stitches placed, I teared a little, at the time I thought the pinching sensation was the damn residents hands in the way. Maybe it was, I was really annoyed that she was doing anything down there.
Then I got up, went to the bathroom and walked around, holding my baby. When there was a mix up with the cord bili labs, I walked down to the nicu and greeted my coworkers so that I could support my baby during a blood draw. "you don't even look like you just gave birth" and "why are you walking around"? were typical comments. But I felt great!!! I begged the doctors to let me go home early. I was out of there 20 hours after walking through the door.
My little boy was born on his due date at 12:12 pm and so was I after a very, very long gestation.
Written with love on the 9th and 7th anniversaries of 2 c/s.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
A mother of a birth story - The first cut
After the miraculous conception of my first child, which is a whole fantastic story as well, I enjoyed a fabulous pregnancy. Yes, I am that woman. No morning sickness, just the right weight gain, no problems. Besides, I LOVED being pregnant. I loved the smiles of passing strangers, the belly rubs, my changing body, everything. I could have done without the horror birth stories but I didn't pay them any mind. I was going to have a natural birth. And those nightmares of my child dying in childbirth from my fear? I was quick to suppress those thoughts whenever that came to mind.
My husband and I went to Bradley classes. This should have been a red flag at some point but I was extremely anxious about his overall interest, or lack thereof I should say. He honestly couldn't figure out what I was worried about. His mother had 8 children, himself a vaginal footling breech delivery. "What's the big deal"? Umph. Wish I had shared that sentiment back then too.
I was so...stupid. I knew nothing about birth. I loved my OB who'd been my reproductive endocrinologist as well. He was and is a very compassionate and caring man. What I didn't know is that he believes that babies should be born at 36 weeks, ideally. (cringe) The hospital I was to deliver at had an alternative birthing center which was actually a room down the hall from the labor ward with a queen size bed and a dorm-room refrigerator. When I went for the tour, I asked the nurse about the space. "Oh you won't want to go THERE. You are going to want an epidural". I chuckled at her simplistic view and said jokingly, "well you won't MAKE me have one will you"? Ha! ha! ha...
Fast forward to week 38, my OB suggested I get induced by week 40 if the baby hadn't come yet. I at least knew enough at that point that I was not willing to even talk about induction. I went into labor at 41 weeks, 3 days while shopping at Costco. Contractions were about 15 minutes apart and pretty intense but I kept shopping. My mom was coming that afternoon and I just HAD to everything ready. (shrug) I went home to my husband who was busy re-building our back porch. If you've ever seen Chicago city porches, you know this is a massive project akin to removing the entire back half of your home and rebuilding. We had to have electrical service discontinued for him to do the work and he was in a panic to get it all done before "baby" came.
I took a shower and called my doctor who told me to call when the contractions were 2 minutes a part. I called back a minute later because they were 1 minute apart and painful! On the way to the hospital my husband stopped at Wendy's and asked if I wanted "anything" as I writhed in pain on the passenger side of the car. If you've ever seen that episode of "Family Guy" where something similar happens, that was us. It really makes me laugh to remember it. "I figured this could take awhile and I'm hungry", he said. Really, he had a point.
I got to the hospital and was put into Hell. They called it "Triage". Put in a tiny cubicle, strapped up to a bunch of wires and told constantly, a laboring women with nonstop contractions, to "settle down" on the stupid cot and guess what happened? I lost it. There weren't any labor rooms available and I was only 1cm. That freaked me out. Based on my Bradley class, these contractions had to mean I was in f'ing transition!!! Of course 2 hours later, in Hell, I find out that the labor rooms weren't available not because they were in use, no, there weren't any CLEAN ones available. "I'll clean the damn room myself"! I shouted. In the meantime I let them give me a HALF dose of Stadol. That was horrible. Now I felt all of the misery but was looped out so that I couldn't bother anyone with my complaints. Finally they got me into a room but now I felt dizzy and nauseous and just wanted to go sit on the toilet. Oh no! I was dizzy and therefore "un-safe" to walk 4 feet to the bathroom with my nice husband at my side. (I am completely skipping the part where my wonderful husband was texting and ignoring me as I reached out for his help while in Triage. "You were only 1cm, I figured it was going to take awhile", thanks.)
Just for the record, I want everyone to know that it is anatomically impossible to pee on a bedpan while on your back and having serious contractions. I had to sneak to the bathroom when the nurse left the room. My good friend, Ann-Marie in the meantime had gone to pick up my mom from the airport and they arrived at about that time. Their empathetic, frightened faces were a great comfort. Really! Husband, exit stage right. ??? I don't remember seeing him again until we were in the OR.
Of course I'd begged for the epidural by this point but first we had to wait for the room, then we had to wait another 4 hours for an anesthesiologist. ??? Mean nurse and doc kicked my family out of the room to torture my into an impossible position and yelled at me to sit still. I'm sorry but constant contractions make sitting still kind of difficult. Finally the epidural was in and I was SO relieved. My OB came by right after that and told me that my cervix had swelled and that I was still at 5cm and regressing. I would "need" a cesarean. At that point I would have agreed to anything. My friend left and I was prepped for surgery. My poor mother was threatened with expulsion if she did not agree to stay off the unit as it was past visiting hours and she was not "allowed" near the surgical suite.
As we prepped for the surgery, I was calm and ready to see my baby. That changed when my OB literally sat on my chest to pull my son's head out of the birth canal. He'd wedged himself in there with one hand over his head. (For almost the whole last half of the pregnancy I kept saying I could feel his hand tickling my cervix). That scared the hell out of me and I thought for sure that he was going to die. Finally I heard him cry and instantly I knew he was okay. I didn't get to see him right away but he was somewhere close by with my husband as they closed me up.
In the recovery room I held him and tried to nurse. He wasn't interested at all and suddenly a big, anciently old nurse wisked him away to "bathe" him. I asked her to at least do it near me so I could see him. Poor little guy, what a traumatic event when you are less than an hour old!! I was so powerless to ask for anything that was important to me. I had shunned the idea of a birth plan because I figured everything would be just fine.
My son was born at 11:50pm and by the time I got into a room, it was really late. My husband took my mom home for the night. I've never felt so lonely in my whole life! Swollen from the surgery, in pain and barely able to do anything for my baby. At first he was placed in a bassinet at the foot of my bed. How was I supposed to get him from down there? Hello? I just had major surgery?! Finally I got the nurse to hand him to me and I didn't let him go the rest of the time. Nursing was really hard at first, frustrating for us both as he had a hard time latching for the first 36 hours. I pumped my colostrum and fed him with a spoon when we were both crying and exhausted; eventually we got the hang of it. The one bright spot was that the maternity ward nursing staff was very supportive of breastfeeding although one nurse the first night wanted to check his blood sugar, "just to make sure" he was okay with the few drops we'd managed.
Physically I recovered well. Honestly the surgery barely slowed me down. Coming home to a heat wave and no electricity for a week was a real bummer but we got through that and I just figured if we were lucky enough to ever have another baby, that I'd have a natural birth the next time.
My husband and I went to Bradley classes. This should have been a red flag at some point but I was extremely anxious about his overall interest, or lack thereof I should say. He honestly couldn't figure out what I was worried about. His mother had 8 children, himself a vaginal footling breech delivery. "What's the big deal"? Umph. Wish I had shared that sentiment back then too.
I was so...stupid. I knew nothing about birth. I loved my OB who'd been my reproductive endocrinologist as well. He was and is a very compassionate and caring man. What I didn't know is that he believes that babies should be born at 36 weeks, ideally. (cringe) The hospital I was to deliver at had an alternative birthing center which was actually a room down the hall from the labor ward with a queen size bed and a dorm-room refrigerator. When I went for the tour, I asked the nurse about the space. "Oh you won't want to go THERE. You are going to want an epidural". I chuckled at her simplistic view and said jokingly, "well you won't MAKE me have one will you"? Ha! ha! ha...
Fast forward to week 38, my OB suggested I get induced by week 40 if the baby hadn't come yet. I at least knew enough at that point that I was not willing to even talk about induction. I went into labor at 41 weeks, 3 days while shopping at Costco. Contractions were about 15 minutes apart and pretty intense but I kept shopping. My mom was coming that afternoon and I just HAD to everything ready. (shrug) I went home to my husband who was busy re-building our back porch. If you've ever seen Chicago city porches, you know this is a massive project akin to removing the entire back half of your home and rebuilding. We had to have electrical service discontinued for him to do the work and he was in a panic to get it all done before "baby" came.
I took a shower and called my doctor who told me to call when the contractions were 2 minutes a part. I called back a minute later because they were 1 minute apart and painful! On the way to the hospital my husband stopped at Wendy's and asked if I wanted "anything" as I writhed in pain on the passenger side of the car. If you've ever seen that episode of "Family Guy" where something similar happens, that was us. It really makes me laugh to remember it. "I figured this could take awhile and I'm hungry", he said. Really, he had a point.
I got to the hospital and was put into Hell. They called it "Triage". Put in a tiny cubicle, strapped up to a bunch of wires and told constantly, a laboring women with nonstop contractions, to "settle down" on the stupid cot and guess what happened? I lost it. There weren't any labor rooms available and I was only 1cm. That freaked me out. Based on my Bradley class, these contractions had to mean I was in f'ing transition!!! Of course 2 hours later, in Hell, I find out that the labor rooms weren't available not because they were in use, no, there weren't any CLEAN ones available. "I'll clean the damn room myself"! I shouted. In the meantime I let them give me a HALF dose of Stadol. That was horrible. Now I felt all of the misery but was looped out so that I couldn't bother anyone with my complaints. Finally they got me into a room but now I felt dizzy and nauseous and just wanted to go sit on the toilet. Oh no! I was dizzy and therefore "un-safe" to walk 4 feet to the bathroom with my nice husband at my side. (I am completely skipping the part where my wonderful husband was texting and ignoring me as I reached out for his help while in Triage. "You were only 1cm, I figured it was going to take awhile", thanks.)
Just for the record, I want everyone to know that it is anatomically impossible to pee on a bedpan while on your back and having serious contractions. I had to sneak to the bathroom when the nurse left the room. My good friend, Ann-Marie in the meantime had gone to pick up my mom from the airport and they arrived at about that time. Their empathetic, frightened faces were a great comfort. Really! Husband, exit stage right. ??? I don't remember seeing him again until we were in the OR.
Of course I'd begged for the epidural by this point but first we had to wait for the room, then we had to wait another 4 hours for an anesthesiologist. ??? Mean nurse and doc kicked my family out of the room to torture my into an impossible position and yelled at me to sit still. I'm sorry but constant contractions make sitting still kind of difficult. Finally the epidural was in and I was SO relieved. My OB came by right after that and told me that my cervix had swelled and that I was still at 5cm and regressing. I would "need" a cesarean. At that point I would have agreed to anything. My friend left and I was prepped for surgery. My poor mother was threatened with expulsion if she did not agree to stay off the unit as it was past visiting hours and she was not "allowed" near the surgical suite.
As we prepped for the surgery, I was calm and ready to see my baby. That changed when my OB literally sat on my chest to pull my son's head out of the birth canal. He'd wedged himself in there with one hand over his head. (For almost the whole last half of the pregnancy I kept saying I could feel his hand tickling my cervix). That scared the hell out of me and I thought for sure that he was going to die. Finally I heard him cry and instantly I knew he was okay. I didn't get to see him right away but he was somewhere close by with my husband as they closed me up.
In the recovery room I held him and tried to nurse. He wasn't interested at all and suddenly a big, anciently old nurse wisked him away to "bathe" him. I asked her to at least do it near me so I could see him. Poor little guy, what a traumatic event when you are less than an hour old!! I was so powerless to ask for anything that was important to me. I had shunned the idea of a birth plan because I figured everything would be just fine.
My son was born at 11:50pm and by the time I got into a room, it was really late. My husband took my mom home for the night. I've never felt so lonely in my whole life! Swollen from the surgery, in pain and barely able to do anything for my baby. At first he was placed in a bassinet at the foot of my bed. How was I supposed to get him from down there? Hello? I just had major surgery?! Finally I got the nurse to hand him to me and I didn't let him go the rest of the time. Nursing was really hard at first, frustrating for us both as he had a hard time latching for the first 36 hours. I pumped my colostrum and fed him with a spoon when we were both crying and exhausted; eventually we got the hang of it. The one bright spot was that the maternity ward nursing staff was very supportive of breastfeeding although one nurse the first night wanted to check his blood sugar, "just to make sure" he was okay with the few drops we'd managed.
Physically I recovered well. Honestly the surgery barely slowed me down. Coming home to a heat wave and no electricity for a week was a real bummer but we got through that and I just figured if we were lucky enough to ever have another baby, that I'd have a natural birth the next time.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
A mother of a birth story - the prologue
At some point on Christmas Eve, 1965, my mother and father made their way to the hospital (St. Lukes in KCMO). Was it snowing and peaceful as they drove the short distance through the Plaza with the famous Christmas lights twinkling against a crisp winter sky? I don't know. All I know is that my mother and father were separated and that my father spent the evening in a smoke-filled waiting room with several other expectant fathers in various stages of panic. My mother was told that she wouldn't want to experience the birth of her first born child and she was anesthetized so that the doctors could literally pull me out of her womb. When she became conscious she had a beautiful little daughter all wrapped up in a christmas stocking. Isn't that cute? (bleck). I know my mom breast fed me for at least 3 weeks, but without any support or information, she gave up when I hit that 3-week growth spurt and needed to suckle more. She, like so many women, even today, thought that her milk supply was low or wasn't good enough and turned to the handy, high-class formula on hand. She didn't know any better and she wishes she had known. She was an excellent mother and very nurturing despite a remarkably un-nurtured childhood of her own.
The stories of my own birth impacted my eventual journey to motherhood PROFOUNDLY! "Birth must be so horrible that you have to be knocked out and your partner wouldn't even want to see such a gross thing" This was the sub-conscious message I received. That message fueled recurring dreams throughout my adolescence in which I would find out I was pregnant and the baby would die directly related to my fear of childbirth pain. !!!! Hello, anyone notice some foreshadowing???? Not me. Although I did attribute this "fear" and dream as playing a part in my struggle with infertility. Unfortunately I didn't give enough attention to that inkling of awareness well enough.
The stories of my own birth impacted my eventual journey to motherhood PROFOUNDLY! "Birth must be so horrible that you have to be knocked out and your partner wouldn't even want to see such a gross thing" This was the sub-conscious message I received. That message fueled recurring dreams throughout my adolescence in which I would find out I was pregnant and the baby would die directly related to my fear of childbirth pain. !!!! Hello, anyone notice some foreshadowing???? Not me. Although I did attribute this "fear" and dream as playing a part in my struggle with infertility. Unfortunately I didn't give enough attention to that inkling of awareness well enough.
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