On Tuesday, 6/3/14, I woke up at 7:18am with a strong contraction (I was 40w3d). I headed to the restroom and was having a lot of bloody show. I took the day pretty easy and started counting contractions - by the time night came around I was about 5-6 min apart, lasting a minute. I posted a question on the old VBAC facts community group asking if I should walk or rest until something happened (they said rest, so I did). A couple of hours after I posted that question my water broke at 6am during a contraction (Wednesday, 6/4). So I labored through the contractions and they got consistently longer and closer together, so we called our doula and headed to the hospital. Before we left, I called my midwife's practice only to find out she had left the practice - yeah, in the few days since I had been there for my 40 week appointment! Not only that, I found out I couldn't deliver at the hospital closest to my house, the one I really wanted for our VBAC. So, I lost my midwife and my hospital during the same phone call while breathing through contractions. What. A. Nightmare. After a brief tear fest, we accepted that we will be delivering at the hospital we didn't want, with the OB that oversees the midwives whom I had never met. So much for a plan, huh?
We packed up and headed to the hospital. I was admitted at 4 cm, 80% effaced, and -2 station. I labored hard from 11:30am until 9pm when I was at 8cm. My VBAC "friendly" OB came in and said I wasn't progressing fast enough. I thought he was joking - he's quirky like that. But he was actually serious. I instantly felt all my hard work slip away; I labored for 38 hours at this point, totally unmedicated, and I wasn't progressing fast enough?! I really wanted to yell some profanity, but I had a rare moment of holding my tongue. Well, my doula kicked it in high gear and pulled out all the old tricks: peanut ball, acupressure, and positions that bring on dilation. By 10pm I was 9 1/2cm, with a lip, but fully effaced. What's worse is that my baby who had consistently been LOA was now OP. This might've been why I wasn't getting past 9 1/2cm. I knew I was quickly losing my VBAC fight and time was running out. So, instead of remaining unmedicated, I opted for an epidural to get me across the finish line so I could relax and see if that would help me get to a 10 so I could push. To me, a VBAC with an epidural was preferable than the blasted OR for a RCS. After getting an hour of much needed rest thanks to the epidural, I received terrible news during my next vaginal exam: sometime in the last few hours of labor my LOA baby had now moved to OP and then to transverse, and her head was no longer engaged but hitting my hip: she was asynclitic. I cried my eyes out. Then I cried some more. Delivering an OP baby is one thing, but transverse... Then the OB said that he was nervous to "let me" labor any longer because he felt that my uterus had withstood contractions for so long (40+ hours) that he worried continuing labor would lead to complications. It's kind of a blur to me at this point. I think I was so devastated and tired from fighting him that I didn't think to stand strong and say no. I didn't think back to all my knowledge that I knew better and that he was probably sick of waiting, and probably lying to me about my uterus being tired. I just didn't think. I was in labor, I had turned off my brain and was letting my body take over. Hindsight and not being in labor = 20/20 vision. Ugh.
That was it. I had a beautiful but hard, unmedicated labor for 40 hours, getting all the way to 9 1/2cm. So at this point I said goodbye to my VBAC and was manipulated into my CBAC.
I was very blessed to be surrounded by a huge group of supporters including my interim midwives, my doula, all my amazing nurses (who cried with me!), and my husband. And all were in the OR with me, making sure this c/s was nothing like my first. While it's not the ending I had spent over a year planning and researching for, it was what happened after a series of unfortunate events. I guess some things in life really are out of our hands even though I did my best to control everything. Maybe that was my first mistake? Thinking I could control everything...
Looking back, I've agonized about this outcome. The paralyzing "what-ifs" have plagued me. What if I was given more time? What if I had my original midwife? Why did I let them put me on a time line? And so on. I fought every obstacle during labor but lost my VBAC war. Why was the laboring mama fighting?! I should've been protected and guided and left alone unless I asked for help. I'm extremely thankful my team turned the c/s into a more positive encounter than my first c/s. But at the end of the day, I'm left with permanent scars for procedures that we're not necessary and definitely not needed to preserve life. I'm somewhat glad that the last few weeks of pregnancy I spent mentally preparing for the possibility of a CBAC. Part of me is still devastated, but I'm prepared to get the help I need should this turn into PPD and require a trauma therapist.
Unfortunately, given this CBAC, it's been a struggle to convince my husband to have additional biological children which makes me extremely sad to accept. As if my birth outcome wasn't hard enough, I'm now dealing with major guilt and sadness that because I couldn't birth vaginally, I might not get to have additional babies. Heartbreaking.
But I digress. Without further adieu, I'd like to introduce you to my darling, womb-acrobat:
Hannah Belle
Arrived June 5th 2014 at 2:29am
7lbs 7ounces, 21" long
She is worth every second of labor work and every tear! Even though both of my births have been traumatizing, I've been extremely blessed with beautiful nursing relationships with both of my girls. I'm so blessed that I get to be the mama of my sweet girls!
