I had to have a C Section.
Well, let’s back track that. It was recommended to me by the doctors to have a c-section. Plankton’s heart rate had leveled out (but not dropped), my bleeding increased (from the cervidil) and we were reaching the 24 hour deadline that the hospital sets for delivery when you have PROM. Medical industry in general though has a 72 hour limit.
As someone who went through 20 weeks of hypno-baby study, worked with midwives and a doula, didn’t so much as have a sip of regular coffee or wine during pregnancy, this was devastating. And I couldn’t help but blame myself in that moment.
Our doula offered the option of leaving. Yep. Just up and leaving the hospital and going home with a midwife to deliver at the house. I did think about it but with the little energy I had, I just wanted to have my baby at that point. But she did get me thinking about choices in general….More on this later.
I’m taken away from B and undressed. A man has me lean over and sticks things in my spine. He says, ok you should now feel warm and numb from the chest down. Then I have a contraction. I say, “dude, I probably shouldn’t have felt that right?” He says, uhhh. Perfect coming from your anesthesiologist. He stabs my spine 2 more times before I’m numb. But I’ll be honest, the numbness was nice, for 45 seconds. Then I started shaking.
I had a bad reaction to the spinal with convulsing like shaking and nausea. I’m laying down with my arms spread and I tell them I’m going to vomit. They turn my head to the side and stick a cup next to my mouth. Like I have some sort of super sonic vomit aim. I’m all, dude I’m going to choke on it. Thankfully I kept it down and I guess it distracted me while my guts were cut open on a table. (I’m making this sound more dramatic than it was because that’s what I do. This whole thing took about 4 minutes total).
B comes in in his full space suit. I’m cut open within seconds and I feel a huge pressure as they pull the baby out. But I don’t hear anything. B runs over. No one is telling me anything. No one says the things you expect to hear like, “he’s here!” or “it’s a boy!” or “he’s so big”. Nothing. They didn’t show me his face. This is now going on about 3 minutes. I’m paralyzed on a table and babyless. It was the worst feeling you can imagine.
Then I hear him cry. B has to take pictures of him and show me on the camera because he’s still been taken away from me. All I ever imagined was him arriving and being placed on my chest and having that super love moment. That didn’t happen. They finally show him to me and he’s great and cute and finally pink and not blue and I’m beyond happy that he’s here and healthy, but I can’t hold him, and I can barely touch him. it just wasn’t what I hoped for.
Looking back, I should have had B tie me to the bed a week earlier and not allow me to intervene in any way. I don’t know for sure if this what led me down the path that I went, but I do think about it. The evening primrose could have led to my water breaking early, which could have led to the castor oil, which led to my vomiting and dehydration, which led to my “practice contractions” leading to the cervidil, leading to the stadol, leading to everything slowing down and then stopping. Leading ultimately to the c section.
I know millions of people have c sections every day and they have wonderfully healthy awesome babies. This just isn’t want I pictured for Gavin and I. But I’m ok with this now.
Gavin was 8lbs 4oz and 21 inches long. His head was lodged into my pelvis sideways, with the cord around his neck and my placenta had begun to detach. All good reasons to have the c section, which I keep telling myself.
Here’s the good news. No pushing = no more hemorrhoids! Cheers for that. Recovering from the c section has been pretty easy and I’m all but 7lbs away from my pre pregnancy weight already. Thank you breast feeding. Gavin is super healthy, a great eater and gaining lots of weight.
Despite B’s labor naps, he’s a great dad. He takes him for a few hours every night around 4am so I can sleep for at least 2-3 full hours. He changes almost every diaper and he has long conversations with Gavin about being nice to girls and the negatives of online shopping. I’m a very lucky girl to have such a rockstar baby and husband.
*** Reflection***
My goal with this story is not to scare you. I really believe that my birth could have been awesome and magic if I just let it happen. I think we get so wrapped up in what should happen or what could happen that we forget to just let it happen. I think I paid a bit of a price for intervening and it doesn’t have to be that way for everyone. Try and be patient and use me as your idiot example for your own birth.
My purpose is not to bash hospitals or doctors or to say natural birth is the way to go. Many of you have said things like, “see? I told you not to get hung up on a birth plan, or what should happen”. I disagree. I actually wish I planned more and was more informed. Looking back, the midwife suggested something I shouldn’t have done and the doctors suggested some things that I wouldn’t have chosen for myself. I think it’s important to be your OWN advocate. You can’t fully trust anyone to make these decisions for you. I don’t care if you go full meds or all natural. Know your options. Because at any single point, I could have said no. No to the castor oil, no to the cervidil, and maybe just no to the hospital. And looking back maybe I should have. But I am ultimately cool with my outcome now. I really am. Because like everyone says, I would do it again tomorrow, if it was twice as long and twice as painful. I would do it again.
Birth is a weird thing. It’s even weirder to think that like every woman with a vag (which is most) have babies. It’s not easy and your life is flipped upside down right away. And no matter how your birth is, I think all women who do it are amazing. So please don’t take this story and say “I’m never having children!” or “poor MODG”. I don’t look at it like that. I look at the path I went down to have my son. And for everyone that will be different. I only hope that what you take away from this is, that you can make your own choices and you don’t have to do anything the way that someone tells you to. Do what’s right for you.
Now, serious birth MODG is leaving the building. She enjoyed her time here but now we move on to things like wine. BECAUSE I CAN DRINK IT AGAIN.
WHAT WHAT??
Picture FEST of happiness!
Hi I’m MODG. But you can call me MODG. You say it like Modg, like a Grandma name. Not like M.O.D.G. That’s a lot of syllables and I don’t have that kind of time. 
