My Caesaeans Prior to Brody.When I was pregnant with Ryan (my first pregnancy) I just assumed I'd have a natural delivery. My mother had had 8 children with no problems and my sisters and sister-in-law all had normal deliveries (if you could call them that... they were all induced or assisted vaginal deliveries with lots of pain relief). I wasn't concerned about a hospital birth, that was okay, and pain relief didn't bother me, I'd use what I felt I needed. I loved the midwife system at the public hospital I attended (KEMH) where the midwives would deliver your child unless there was a need to call a doctor. Everything seemed fine, but Ryan was breech, and so I was booked in for a c/section at my 39 1/2 week check-up... they didn't even want to let me go home to pack my bag - maybe other women have disappeared or something (wish I'd thought of that). Anyway, a very bewildered baby was born the next morning, totally unready to join us in this world with no labour experienced to prepare him, with the cord firmly wrapped 3 times around his neck. Maybe he chose to be born the way he was, I feel an acceptance of his birth as I realise that I didn't prepare myself for his birth in any way. When I fell pregnant with Callan I just automatically assumed that I would have a trial of labour, but this time I would get myself an Obstetrician and things would work out because I would have the "best" care and "support" of an expert on childbirth, or so my sister (who only used Obstetricians) told me. I still didn't prepare myself for childbirth, I left it in the hands of the specialist, though I did ensure he knew how important a natural birth was to me. I realised I was getting it across to him on the day his ultrasound machine was on the blink and he had to check my baby's heartbeat with a stethoscope "thing". He said to me "You'll be happier we do things this way today, won't you? I can tell you'd rather." If he knew me that well, why didn't I know myself??? I didn't know where to start to look for support in Perth, I had no knowledge of independant midwives, all my family just went to hospital to have babies. Then I heard about BACUP over East, but they could only send me an old newsletter and a note saying sorry but there was no contact people in Perth to put me on to. I wish they'd sent me a reading list at least, allowed me to educate myself more. I was so naive in regards to scar ruptures and "not growing too big a baby". If someone had only handed me a coy of "Silent Knife" I would have had some faith in my body and it's ability to birth my baby without risking his life. I attended hospital prenatal classes, and was the only woman there attempting a VBAC. Although I think 1/4 of my class ended up having a c/section - sad isn't it. I remember doing a tour of the hospital with my class, and feeling so excited to be in the labour room with it's quilted bed and it's gas mask, etc, then feeling physically sick when we toured the operating room, having to leave and wait for the rest of the class outside. They really "prepared" us for a hospital birth, suckering us up so that we wouldn't complain when they pulled out the hook to do an amniotomy, or the forceps for delivery, we had our pain relief options worked out in little plans and had toured the operating room so even that would be acceptable as an avenue birth may take. Of course they threw in a few bean bags and mirrors to be a little bit alternative, allow us to feel like some of the technology would be removed from our birth experiences. 3 weeks before my due date my waters broke, I was not prepared very well, it was just so unexpected. Ryan had been born a bit premature for his dates so I assumed that I'd sail past my due date still well and truly pregnant. My first lesson in how very different all children are, even while still in utero. I experienced excitement and dread at the same time. My waters poured out of me in a torrent and for the first time in weeks I felt truly comfortable! I must have had a lot of pressure as instantly I felt the difference. I phoned the hospital, it was 11 p.m. and they said come straight in, so I hopped in the shower then ran around getting my bag organised - my athletic softdrink, my iceblock things, my oilburner, and labour massage oils, etc. Chris got my mother-in-law to come over and be with Ryan while I waddled to the car with a towel between my legs, amazing how much fluid there was, and it continued to flow for the next 43 hours... I didn't realize at the time that your body continues to produce the amniotic fluid, so it was being continually replaced, I'm surprised I didn't get dehydrated but can understand how tired I became, over that time, as my body was doing an amazing job. I truly expected to have my baby in my arms by the morning. But I still was only experiencing mild period-like cramps when we arrived at the hospital. They sent Chris home and put me into a bed, after checking me. We both felt totally dismissed, why didn't they send me home with Chris? I should have gone home and relaxed in my own environment - totally unprepared, like I said before! My labour became strong and weak again over the next 43 hours. I was told not to tire myself out when I would try walking the corridors, I tried nipple stimulation but felt uncomfortable even though my body responded (I needed encouragement and knowledge to feel comfortable) so I stopped and my labour slowed down, I played cards, walked in the garden and walked the corridors some more. I wouldn't mentally let my body progress into labour, I know and feel that to be true when I look back on my labour. I was in a strange environment, with no supportive midwife and I didn't want to kill my baby by rupturing my uterus in established labour. I never truly surrendered to labour, instead I held onto my worries and fears, keeping a tight rein, mentally, over my physical body. Also, the midwives never made me feel truly welcome there, I always felt like a hinderance to them... there was always a new midwife to explain my situation to and I didn't always feel any connection to them, the hospital was their place, not mine. My Obstetrician popped in, maybe twice during all this time. Once to ask how I was doing and was I sure the flow wasn't just urine? (Why didn't I agree with him and get out of there?) I had a contraction when he asked me that question and fluid gushed out on to the floor, I looked at him and said "It's amniotic fluid." The second time was to check my dilation. He stripped my membranes without asking and stretched my cervix. Nobody present actually told me this but the examination was incredibly painful and I passed a lot of blood afterwards which really scared me (when I explained this procedure to one of the Freo Midwives, about two years later, she explained what he must have done and I finally understood what had happened to me). I reported the blood to the midwife who was present for my exam' and she said "I'm not surprised, dear, after what he did to you". Why didn't she stop him? I refused any more vaginal exams when offered them by the midwives, I hadn't realised how painful they would be, until one said she would be very gentle. She was!!! She said my Obstetrician had bigger hands and men were rougher, even she protected him! But I wasn't progressing, nobody ever wrote my dilation in any notes though, as I could find no record of it when I went over my notes two years later, so I'll never know how far I did dilate. I was booked in for a c/section that evening, Thursday night, my waters had broken at 11 p.m. on Tuesday night and I was exhausted. I was also relieved that someone was taking control of the situation. Do you know what happened next? My labour picked up. The midwives starting commenting on how I seemed to finally be in labour properly, but when I told the anaesthetist that I was experiencing contractions (in between my tears of helplessness) he just told me to "Breathe through them" while he got the catheter in place. I wanted someone to take note of my contractions and stop the c/section from happening, not realising that I could do that myself. I have cried through every one of my babies births, tears of helplessness and betrayal. Not what birth should be like, not the wonderful experience, the joyful meeting with your child for the first time that I expected it to be. Callan was born and he screamed at the injustice of it all. My husband disappeared with him to the nursery and left me alone to be stitched up while he bonded with our child. I had told Chris to be sure and hold Callan next to his naked chest, so our baby could feel some skin and hear his Dad's heartbeat, I'm so glad he did this and I think Chris is too. The sadness of a c/section is this total disregard of the mother/newborn bonding ceremony. What was connected in every way is ripped apart and separated in a cold sterile environment. All the gentleness and ritual is removed. 11 days after Callan was born I started haemorrhaging. It scared me. My blood flooded from my womb, I'd developed an infection. We returned to the hospital and they wanted to keep me in. I said "No" at last I found some strength within myself. I accepted their antibiotics and went home with my baby and my husband. I assumed the infection was either from my waters being broken so long, or from the surgery, but I have since been told that there has been research done which has found that an infection during late pregnancy can cause weakness in the amniotic membranes and premature rupture. Maybe this is why my waters broke so early. I have found an acceptance of Callan's c/section too, in that I wasn't prepared for childbirth. I had too many doubts in my ability and the safety of natural childbirth with a scarred uterus from the previous c/section. At least Callan experienced labour and had some indication of his entrance into our world. I believe knowledge and affirmations/visualisations are so very important to the success of a VBAC. As well as support and environment. Birthing Beautifully, (Please read "The Birth Of Brody" for my next birth experience). |