VBAC
Mamaofthesea
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Natural VBAC success!--Super Long
Mamaofthesea
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in VBAC
Edit: So sorry about the weird format and font size! I have no idea how to fix it! Please let me know if you do! Hi all. I'm mostly a lurker here and an occasional poster, but I thought I'd post my vbac birth story.My daughter was born in 2009 via an emergency c-section after 35 hours of labor, including 3 hours of pushing. The baby was posterior, and not long after I started pushing my contractions stopped dead. I was given pitocin to reboot them, but they never really cameback with the same vigor. My weakened contractions, my daughter?s less than ideal position in the birth canal, and my own exhaustion made it impossible for me to push the baby out all the way. And after the OB eventually spotted meconium around my daughter?s head, she decided it was time to call the section. I was devastated when I found outI was going to have to have a c-section and always knew that with my next kid Iwas going to try for a vbac. When I became pregnant with my second child, I found a practice that had both OBs and midwives, and that was very vbac friendly. Through my entire second pregnancy I never wavered in my decision totry for a vbac. However, I was extremely nervous that things wouldn't work out again and that I'd end up with another c-section.At some point in my pregnancy,one of the OB's at the practice expressed concern that I hadn't been able to push out my daughter despite her position. She was very small at birth, only 5lbs 15 oz., which was a red flag that maybe I just had a small pelvis, or that something else about my anatomy prevented me from pushing her out. At my 36 week appt., a different OB at the practice did an ultrasound and determined that that this baby was also posterior. She offered several ways I could try to get the baby to flip, but also suggested there could be something about my body that encouraged my babies to arrange themselves in that position. I was nervous, but just kept telling myself that all I could do was try my best and hope for a positive outcome.Many of the midwives and OBs told me that I would increase my chances for vbac success if I didn't have an epidural, or at least waited as long as I could to have one. With my daughter I tried to have a natural childbirth, but ended up accepting an epidural after 24 hours of labor. I was still only 5 cm at that point, and already so worn out that I couldn't have gone on without the relief the epidural provided. For this labor and delivery, I told myself that once again I would try for an intervention and drug free birth. I was dedicated to doing anything I could to decrease my chances of having another surgery. On June 4th, Reid Alexander was born vaginally after a completely natural childbirth. The experience was entirely different than my first birth experience, which just goes to show that your first childbirth does not dictate how things will go the next time around.So, for those who care about details, here?s my son?s vbac birth story. I apologize for the length. I wrote it all out so that I could remember years from now, and just thought I?d post it as is rather than try to whittle it down. At 39 weeks and 3 days pregnant I woke up in the morning with bloody show. I had been having contractions off and on for a couple weeks, so when I started having some contractions later that morning I was reluctant to get too excited, even despite the bleeding. But the contractions continued with some regularity through the afternoon. Deep down I knew this was the beginning of my labor, but based on my first childbirth experience I figured I had a lot of time before things became serious. So my husband and I left our daughter with my mom, who had come into town to stay with us, and went to see The Hunger Games. There?s nothing like a little Katniss Everdeen and a bag of Twizzlers to take your mind off your contractions.I continued having intermittent contractions through the movie and then into the evening. The contractions weren't particularly painful yet, but by dinnertime they did seem to be coming regularly. At around 9:00 that night my mom decided she would start timing the contractions for me.They were coming about 7 minutes apart and lasting 45 seconds. After about an hour of timing I decided to go to bed. By now I was fairly convinced I was inearly labor and that all systems were go. I drifted in and out of sleep for a couple hours. The contractions were becoming progressively more uncomfortable. By 1:00 a.m. I decided sleep was futile, broke out my iphone with my fancy contraction timing app (yes, there's an app for that), and started timing my contractions again. They were coming about 5 minutes apart now, and lasting a full minute. I lay there in the dark amidst the glow of my smart phone, alternating between Facebook and the timer for another hour, moaning through each contraction. I found that humming to myself was helpful, though probably somewhat obnoxious to my husband who was trying his darndest to get some sleepbeside me. At 2:15 a.m. I got up to use the bathroom and to walk around a little. Once I stood up my contractions went almost instantaneously from 5 minutes apart to between 2 and 3 minutes apart. At 2:45 a.m. I decided it was time to contact the OB/midwife who was on call that night. Originally, I had been told that I was welcome to labor at home for as long as I felt comfortable doing so. When I was in labor with my daughter, I went into the hospital after 12 hours of pretty serious contractions, only to find out I was still only 1 cm dilated and couldn't be admitted until I had progressed further. I did not want a repeat of this experience, so in my mind I was still hours from being ready to head to the hospital. But when I talked to the midwife that night she said she would be comfortable with me waiting only another hour or two before coming in. She assured me that things tend to progress more quickly the second time around. I was a bit disappointed because I knew I would be more comfortable at home. But, as it turns out, I?m glad I listened to heror I might have ended up having my baby in my living room! I got off the phone and spent thenext hour and a half finishing my packing and taking a shower. After the birth of my daughter I looked like death and didn't take a shower for days, so I was hoping this time around I could give myself a fighting chance of not looking like a wildebeest in all those postpartum photos. At around 5 a.m. we headed for the hospital.Upon arrival at the hospital I was triaged, told to pee in a cup, and asked a multitude of probing questions. A midwife from my practice showed up and checked my cervix. I was 3 cm, 80% effaced, with cervix still posterior. Woot! At around 7:00 a.m. I was checked into my room where they set me up with the fetal monitor. I was frustrated I had to wear one, but it was required for all vbacs. Thankfully, it was a telemetry monitor, so I was at least able to move around the room and not be confined to the bed. I was also required to have a saline lock per hospital policy, just in case they needed to take me down quickly. They inserted the IV in the side of my wrist, which was painful and made it difficult to move my hand around. I was irritated and told the nurse how much pain the IV was causing. She offered to take it out and insert it again elsewhere. I decided I?d suffer through what I had.More irritating than the needle sticking out of my arm was that I was asked to sign a document indicating that I understood and accepted the risks associated with having a vbac, which were enumerated in detail, and that despite those risks I still elected to have a vbac over a repeat c-section. I wearily scrawled my initials next to each risk statement and tried my best not to think about uterine rupture as I struggled through my contractions. The next document I was asked to sign gave the hospital permission to do an emergency c-section if things took a turn for the worse. It also included a list of risks associated with the c-section and a place for meto sign acknowledging and accepting such risks. It was at this point, I believe, that I made some sarcastic comment about how it was a little late for me to be worrying about the risks associated with both a vbac AND a c-section since the baby was going to have to come out one way or the other. The nurse laughed, but probably wanted to punch me. I had declined the epidural, so the nurses finally left me to my labor. By now the contractions were becoming very painful. After being forced to sit in a bed for the last hour or so while I was poked and prodded and warned of my potentially imminent death, I was thrilled to be able to move around and assume different positions to help manage my pain. While sitting in the bed, I had been taking out my suffering on my husband?s poor hand, which was all but crippled by now. Now that I was free to move around, the most comfortable position for me to be in during a contraction was leaned over the bed with my head buried in darkness and solitude.My once pleasant humming sounds had increased a few decibel levels and I was sounding more and more like a dying moose. Cue obnoxious hospital registration personnel. A woman entered the room and cheerfully took a seat at the computer next to the bed to collect our pertinent insurance and contact information. For the life of me I couldn?t tell you what she looked like. I don?t think I raised my head from the mattress the whole time she was there, partially because I was in pain, and partially because I was protesting the fact that she would choose such an obviously atrocious time to ask for my social security number. Thankfully, my husband answered most of her questions. I continued with my yelling.More time passed and by now the contractions were getting to be excruciating. There was hardly any break in between each one, and I was beginning to wonder how much longer I could go on like this. Surely, I couldn?t be anywhere close to completely dilated. No one had looked in on me for a while, and the only time my cervix had been checked was when I was checked into the hospital. At some point, my nurse came in the room to prepare a massive table of delivery tools. She nonchalantly stood off in the corner unveiling one medieval-looking implement after another: scissors; and clamps; and tongs; needles; and shiny, sterile metal bowls. I tried to ignore her, but all I could think about was how each tool would soon be used to extract a baby from my un-medicated lady parts.I had to pee and dragged my husband into the bathroom with me so I could clutch him when a contraction came. I sat on the toilet screaming bloody murder, and when I was finished I realized I wasn?t sure I?d be able to stand up. I was already getting essentially no break in between contractions, but it seemed like every time I moved I provoked an even more rapid and intense surge of pain. Sitting on the toilet actually felt kind of good. And I could swear I was starting to feel pressure down there. It was a little after 9:00 a.m. I was crying and yelling to my husband about how much pain I was in, and amidst it all hemanaged to convince me that the toilet probably wasn?t the greatest place to hang out. He dragged me out of the bathroom just in time for another contraction. I ran for the side of the bed, desperate to cling to something. But when the contraction hit its peak I dropped to the floor in a deep squat. The sensation to push was suddenly so undeniably strong, I started yelling, ?I have to push. I have to push.? My mind started racing. It had only been a couple hours since we got to our room. There was no way I had gone from 3 cm to 10 cm that quickly! What about transition? What about the vomiting, and shaking, and exclaiming that I can?t go on? None of that had happened. And if I WASN?T able to push now, I had no clue how I was going to make it through countless more hours this way! I had been told earlier that if I decided I wanted an epidural it would probably take about 45 minutes from the time I asked for one until the anesthesiologist could get to me. I started yelling to my husband that I couldn?t wait 45 more minutes like this. It felt like my body was taking over, and it was taking everything in me to keep from pushing. Something was happening and I was getting scared because I couldn?t control it.My husband was frantically trying to call our nurse, but she wasn?t answering her phone. He finally called the front desk and I could hear him trying to remain calm as he explained the situation. It didn?ttake long for a nurse and midwife to burst through the door. I started wailing that I HAD to push and they were telling me that I HAD to get up on the bed. Like heck I was getting up on the bed! I felt like if I moved I would lose all ability to keep my body from bearing down, and I would be ripped apart from the inside out.In the nanoseconds I had between contractions I managed to fling myself up to the bed, but I barely made it onto the mattress. I was laying on my side on the edge of the bed, paralyzed and clinging to the bedframe (which I have since dubbed the ?oh *** bar?). I pleaded with everyone to let me remain in this awkward position because moving again would surely mean imminent death. They assured me they could check my cervix without me having to move. The midwife gloved up, went in, and within moments announced that I was completely dilated and could go ahead and push. Terror washed over me. I suddenly realized I was really going to do this. No epidural. No going back now. This was happening. Sometime in the flurry of activity another midwife and OB from my practice had entered the room, and I now had an entire entourage of women watching over me. They told me they were going to break my water, which would remove one more obstacle to getting the baby out. All I could say was, ?Will it hurt?? They assured me it would not and they didn?t lie. I felt nothing but a warm gush of fluid. I pushed a few times lying on my side, but it just wasn?t an ideal pushing position. So another round of negotiations ensued as everyone tried to convince me to roll onto my back. I was gripping the ?oh sh1tbar? for dear life, but managed to let go just long enough to roll over. All I kept thinking was that I wanted this to be over as quickly as possible. I wanted the baby out! Many women push for an hour or more. Heck, with my daughter I pushed for three! But there was no way I was going to let that happen this time around.Knees to chest, eyes squinted shut, I channeled everything I had into pushing as hard and as effectively as I could. It felt good to push--painful, but good. I felt a bit like William Wallace at the end of Braveheart, in intense pain but also with intense conviction. I should have shouted, ?Freedom!? But instead I just pushed harder. No one tried to tell me how to push, or how many times to push per contraction. There was no one counting, or coaching, or telling me to rest. The women around me just let me do what my body wanted to do. I am so thankful for this. Between pushes the nurse pressed an oxygen mask to face.My husband held my hand and told me how well I was doing. My team encouraged me to keep going. At some point I opened my eyes and glanced down at the foot of my bed. My OB was sitting there calmly filling out a chart, or something, looking like she might on a lazy Sunday morning sipping coffee on her pack porch. This was oddly relaxing to me. Everything was obviously proceeding normally. But within minutes my OB had dropped her paperwork, put on gloves, and focused her attention intently on my crotch. She told me the next day that she had expected me to push for about an hour, but then looked over and realized the baby was on his way out and decided she better put on her gloves!From here on out everything is a blur. There was pain, yes, and a stretching/burning feeling. I knew the baby was coming. But the intensity of the pressure was what I remember feeling the most. I just wanted to keep pushing. I had no choice but to keep pushing. My body demanded it. My husband told me that everything happened so fast. He said he looked down after one push and could see the crown of our son?s head. With the next push his head was out, and the next push after that his little body slipped out into the world. At 9:50 a.m., they placed my son on my stomach, coated in a mixture of olive oil and bodily fluids, umbilical cord still attached and pulsing. They told me to open my eyes and see my baby. I think I was in shock. I reached down and placed my hand on the top of his slippery, tiny head. I don?t remember what I said,but I do remember my husband looking at me, tears in his eyes, and he just kept saying over and over, ?He?s perfect.?He is perfect. And there?s a part of me that?s a bit jealous that my husband was able to be there in that moment, so present, to experience my son?s first moments of life. I was there, but so dazed and exhausted that I had to have my husband reassure me days later that I actually said something kind and motherly to my son as he lay there crying on my stomach. For me, the pain did not go away the moment the baby was out, as I?ve heard some women describe. In fact, I felt like I?d been hit by a truck for along time afterwards. That stupid IV proved useful after all when they used itto quickly administer some pain medication to my tired veins. I had a second-degree tear, which my OB deftly stitched up as I lay there watching my proud husband videotape my son while he lay on the baby warmer. I couldn?t believe it. I had done it. I had gotten everything I ever wanted in a childbirth experience. And I was proud of what my body was able to do. I had doubted it for the longest time after my daughter?s birth. For me, the thought that in a different time or a different place my baby and I would have died in childbirth somehow made me feel like a failure as a woman?like nature hadn?t intended for us to survive. I know this is ridiculous, but I still couldn?t help feeling it. When I saw my OB the day after Reid?s delivery, I asked her if he had been posterior like my daughter. She said, ?No, he was positioned perfectly.?
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Re: Natural VBAC success!--Super Long
Yes! C&Ped from Word. Sheesh! How frustrating.
P.S. your kids are adorable and I love their names!
Thanks ladies. And thanks for hanging in despite the goofy formatting.
Rach312, good luck! You never know about those sneaky babies. I hope you get your chance for a VBAC!
Thank you!
~Sweet Girl *8/18/08* c-section ~ Sweet Boy *12/2/10* VBAC ~ Sweet Boy *8/14/12* VBAC~
VBAC Birth Story 2VBAC Birth Story