|Posted by Lerin on February 28, 2009 at 8:29 PM|
After reading the previous post, and discussing the fact that I didn't utter any profanity gave me the idea of writing about my 2, eerily similar, yet very different birth experiences.
My first pregnancy was uneventful- I did everything the generic route. I was young, and I didn't know any better. I did plan on a drug-free birth, however.
My labor started and I went to a regularly scheduled appointment. I asked about the baby's positioning. The doctor said 'it feels like a head'.
So I went on with my day, and arrived at the hospital the next day. I had not prepared myself mentally for labor, and ended up having a single dose of a drug to 'take the edge off'. When I was ready to deliver, the Dr. arrived and gave us the news that our baby was butt-first and I would need a c-section. I was shocked and disappointed. Not at all how I thought things would go. When my daughter was pulled out, she took half a breath. I was aware of what was going on as they worked to get her breathing, but I felt so detatched from it.
My daughter was healthy. I healed quickly and without complication. Life went on.
When I found out I was pregnant with my 2nd baby, I went back to the same doctor. I asked him about VBAC. He said it was certainly an option we could discuss as my pregnancy progressed. That wasn't good enough for me.
My mother is an RN, and had done Labor & Delivery at the same hospital where my first daughter was born, where my doctor delivered. They'd just put in place a policy that any VBAC patient had to have her Dr. in the hospital at all times during labor. That all but said we don't VBAC anymore.
I set out to find a mid-wife. I found a practice that was closer to my home that had 3. I had visits with them all, and they were all very nice. VBAC? No problem. I was, of course worried about the possibility of having another breech baby.
At my last few visits, they assured me that my baby was heads down, and she didn't have alot of room anymore. The preassure was different- much lower this time, so that kept me in good spirits. I was worried too, about which midwife I would get. Would I get the by the book midwife? Would I get the very nice, but very quiet midwife? Or would I get the one that I really wanted- the youngest, yet the one who had the most experience?
I went into labor on a Monday, as I had with my first daughter. My labor died down in the eveing, just like the first time. I stayed up late trying to get some last minute things done. I went to bed. My true labor started around 4:30. I stayed home as long as I dared. I was worried that the 30 minute drive to the hospital would disrupt or prolong my labor. I was also worried about the hospital itself, as it wasn't the one that my mom had worked at, where my first daughter was born, that I was familiar with. I was worried that if I got there too soon, I'd be tempted to get an epidural. I also kept thinking of my sister and how she made the births of 2 of her children that I got to see, look really easy, and how she bounced out of bed after each one and said she could have a baby everyday. I kept thinking too, that if I waited long enough to push, I wouldn't really have to, my baby would slide on out on her own.
At the hospital, I was moving in slow motion, not in a rush but I asked for the epidural. It gave me something to think about; to distract myself from thinking about how much pain I was in. I knew it was too late. They told me that the midwife that I wanted was on her way. When she got there, she told me that I could have my baby in 2 minutes. When 2 minutes had passed, I started to get worried that my labor was going to slow down, or stop. At the end of every contraction, I could feel my baby 'sucking back up'. ("Two steps forward, one step back" a friend later told me. How had I missed that in 9 months of reading?)
I don't think it's ever been acurately described because it CAN'T be- but the shock that runs thru you right at the end, instead of contractions. My sister described it as feeling like she was being split apart. I've read about it being the power of the universe, amoung other things. I wasn't prepared for that.
I was apprehensive too, about crowning. I'd heard nightmares about the burning. I felt the pressure, but no real pain. Not like my body was ripping at all, which it inevitably did, which the same friend told me that I had an "irrational fear of tearing".
So those are my stories. Like any mother, I can recall every detail, like it was yesterday and am always more than willing to share my story with whoever wants to hear it.