“You’re completely back to normal.”
“Vaginal births are overrated.”
Before you go thinking “Just another jerk OB,” I should emphasize that in context he was really just telling me:
“You can do stuff now that you couldn’t before, because you’re healing fine.”
“It’s okay that you had a C-section.”
The nurse who took my blood pressure also said something that made me think. She asked if I had ended up with a natural birth (which she knew I had been planning for) and I said, “Nope, C-section.” “Was it an emergency?” she asked. I hedged for a second and she said:
“It was just time for him to come out, huh.”
A quick rewind to just over six weeks ago, when I “gave birth” to Theo, another phrase I have mulled over lately, tell you why in a minute. Bla bla bla sob story about how I was in labor for 2 days and finally got a lopsided epidural 12 hours before he was born. As a side note, I should say that when I recounted The Birth Story to people in the days after Theo’s birth, when it was all fresh in my mind and everyone wanted to hear it (as I like to tell myself), I was very careful to emphasize, especially to a couple of pregnant friends, that contractions were Not That Bad. They Hurt, but they were Not That Bad and actually I’ve never felt closer to Matt in my life than when he helped me through them on the second and longest day. Pushing, that’s maybe another story but everyone’s different, right!
Yeah, pushing = hard, for me. I pushed so hard I got a fever, and also it turns out I’m really, really bad at holding my breath.
Dr. Elliott and the nurses were great. Even when I asked the nurse not very politely, “Could you stop saying ‘push, push, push’ when it’s time to push?” (It was annoying me and it’s not like I couldn’t feel the contraction coming), she politely obliged. Even when I looked at Dr. E with crossed eyes as he held my feet and got me to push and I said to him honestly, “Please, please, just pull it out, or CUT it out,” he refused and instead got me to calm down.
After 2 hours, Dr. Elliott let me get the epi pumped up to see if more contractions would bring the baby’s head down further—since I was clearly exhausted and a little delirious. One reason I will continue to advocate natural birth is that while increasing contractions are hard, losing the epidural feeling during transition, or the time when your body is almost ready to push and contractions are coming like crazy, is harder—and I immediately fell asleep for almost an hour.
When I woke back up, the baby’s heartbeat wasn’t going back up after contractions, the last pesky centimeter (I was at a 9) hadn’t dilated, there was a little meconium in the most recent fluid, my fever was still high, and my water had been broken for 12 hours. These are circumstances that depending on your philosophy (and malpractice insurance), might lead you as a health care professional in two directions: C-section + sigh of relief or a calculated risk + lots of patience.
Dr. Elliott said I could go another hour, let the epidural die down and try to push again with a big risk of an emergency C, or I could get a C then.
I cried.
Although all I "really" wanted was for both of us to be safe and healthy (standard disclaimer), I also really, really wanted to know that I could bear him myself—actually "give birth." I wanted a culminating experience to these nine months that I would feel and never forget. You know, the kind where you feel that last push and the heavens open and your husband documents forever on film your sweaty, tearful, exultant face when you first meet your sweet little child. I desperately wanted it, in fact.
I don’t know where that urge comes from, but I think many women can identify. It’s like the reason I can hear Theo stir in his sleep from 3 rooms away, or the reason I’ll sing Primary songs to him until my face is blue. Or the reason that we decided to have him in the first place. The thought that I could not do this one tiny little thing—give birth myself—was very, very disappointing at 2 p.m. on January 11.
Matt knew how much I wanted it, and my doctor did too, and they fell over themselves urging me that it was fine and I had been brave. I didn’t feel brave though, in fact I really felt very scared. That feeling of giving up was more frightening than contractions, which honestly were not that scary—just painful.
So, Matt and I decided to have the surgery, although now doped back up with the epidural I had my heart set on pushing again. I thought about how tired I was and how long it had been. It was like the nurse said last week—it was time for him to come out.
“I’m sorry you had to have a C-section,” you might hear after having one you didn’t plan for. That’s because it’s hard to know you couldn’t do it "on your own." But at 2:53 p.m. on January 11, I felt fine about it, especially when Theo emerged with his cord around his neck (hence the slow heartbeats), but otherwise perfect. I was not tearful or sweaty or exultant yet. His crying sounded exactly like every other brand-new baby’s cry I had ever heard on TV and in the movies. I didn’t have my contacts in or glasses on so I couldn’t see him very well but I could see his dark eyes and dark hair and angry-looking face. I had IVs in both arms and a completely numb body so I couldn’t hold him or feed him, but I watched Matt hold him and I fed him myself a few hours later. People say bonding may be slower after a surgical birth. I have to agree that in my case I didn't especially feel "bonded" to him yet. But I was so bleary and groggy and relieved that I didn't really notice.
So back to the “back to normal” thing. If anyone should know, an OB should know that there is no “back to” normal, just a new normal, which keeps evolving anyway. My incision isn’t bad, stretch marks are not very pretty, but I do fit into my old jeans. Breastfeeding hasn’t always gone as smoothly as I would like, but we’re doing it and Theo’s fat and happy. (I don’t fit into my old shirts.) Everything I own has been graced with assorted bodily fluids, but everything I own is from Target or D.I. We're late to everything, but—wait, I was always late to everything.
He wakes up once, twice, or three times in a night, but he doesn’t usually cry, just eats and goes right back to sleep, and I wish you could see how big and bright his eyes are in our dark room.
10 comments:
I think it's important to share birth stories, regardless of their outcomes, so that you can be prepared for anything.
And a c-section is not the end of the world. I had very little experience with them until Henry was born, but now when I talk about them, I am amazed at the number of women who have had one - and then had a vaginal birth - or had a vaginal birth, then a section, then a vaginal birth and then another section!! (This woman is for real too!)
Choices are what are important. When we aren't given choices, then we feel less powerful, less capable.
So when you choose what is necessary when it's time for the baby to come out, then you've made a good choice.
And it's really important not to compare birth experiences. They are unique to the individuals involved.
And it's important not to prejudice others with your experiences - share, but don't pontificate.
That's all I have to say at the moment - maybe I'll think of more later.
That was so, so beautiful! I loved reading it.
I struggle sometimes with feelings that I didn't come by something legitimately. In fact, I feel like I cheated a little bit with my baby's birth in September: I was SO ready to give that last push, and have the heavens open and look with exultation on my new baby (well said!) that I told the doctor I wanted to push, even before I was all the way dilated. I didn't actually feel the overwhelming need to push, but I wanted to, so I told her I was ready. She let me, and it took 2 hours, and it all finally happened, but I felt like I cheated. Silly, I know, because I still gave birth to my beautiful offspring. And so did you. We came by our babies honestly, by golly!
Also, thank the heavens for modern medicine!! Scary that your son had his cord around his neck. How wonderful that you were spared that potential trauma. For me, I hemorrhaged after delivery. Lots of women in the history of the world have died from hemorrhaging after childbirth, but what a blessed thing that doctors can fix that sort of thing now, and it's not a big deal. Likewise, I marvel that c-sections are available to help bring healthy children into this world to meet their healthy moms.
I also really liked your "new normal" phraseology. You are so insightful. Thanks for sharing this. (And I'm sorry that I butted into such a personal, private experience.)
I often find myself wishing that Natalie's heartbeat had been slow or eratic or something!! Some sign that something was wrong. The cord was wrapped around her neck so tight they had to cut it and I have to wonder if we'd done c-section if we would have avoided NICU.
I know that it doesn't always keep them from needing NICU, but it wasn't NICU that scared me. It was her stopped breathing, not wanting to start again and then going into shock that did me in.
I'm glad that everything worked out well in the end with Theo. (All four of my children were born with cords around their necks and three of them were just fine.)
A C-section is not the end of the world, it's true. Before I had one, though, I thought it would be. Two interesting discussions about C-sections were at Tales from the Crib (here) and Times and Seasons (here), two of my fave blogs. I think I remember Karen commenting on one of them (and she should know, she's had her kids just about every way you can imagine).
No need to apologize, Emily--thank you for your thoughts. Traci, true thoughts about the cord--I've known dozens of people who were born or had children born with cords looped around and were totally fine. Theo may have been fine too--one of those "who knows" situations, like Natalie. I prefer not to think about "may haves" though!
This is a beautiful post Eliza. There is something wonderful about sharing birth stories-maybe it is the connection we feel when sharing. I'm so glad Theo was/is ok and that you are too! (our little one with the cord around his neck twice wasn't a c-section but did visit the NICU for 8 days)
When the doctor told me I had to have a C-section, I started crying. The nurses kept reassuring me that the scar would heal and no one would see it. I couldn't calm down enough to tell them that wasn't why I was crying. I was crying because my baby was going to be 2 months early and in the NICU for awhile. They didn't understand that.
C-Sections are harder to recover from in there own way. You are just more helpless when you have kids wanting you to carry them down the stairs.
You sound like you did an amzaing job though. Each labor is different and unique. It's always good to document them so you can answer their "questions" when they are older.
A word from the father of daughters giving birth: I don't think I have ever felt pain like I did when first Phoebe suffered through a long, unproductive labor that ended in C-section, then you had your similar experience, though unique in many ways I am sure. Even today as I think of you two those feelings still come around again. Yep, I am a pretty soft-hearted, weepy guy. But how grateful for Henry and Theo (haven't met the boy yet but I thoroughly love him), and that they survived the ordeal with their moms. And everyone with their f-a-c-u-l-t-i-e-s intact.
i LOVE birth stories. and they can be tricky because they are so personal.
and they are tricky because really they are a life threatening experience in so many ways, despite all our modern medical improvements.
every time i had a baby i had a part of me afraid that i or my baby wouldn't come home, which colors a lot of our choices.
I am glad you wrote out your birth experience. I wish that I had written mine sooner when everything was still fresh.
And the "new normal" is very true. I have found that normal is constantly changing.
And Dad, I am glad that you are soft-hearted and weepy!
Great post.
We got a picture of the cutest little guy in the mail the other day that now graces our refrigerator. (the place of honor in our house)
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