Failed VBAC attempt (and very traumatic post-birth) but happy ending

My DS was a scheduled c/s at 39 weeks due to poor positioning and never dropping.  The surgery itself was fine, but I found the recovery in the first few days to be pretty awful.  

This time around, my OB said I'd be a good VBAC candidate, up until the end of pregnancy when I wasn't making the kind of progress she wanted to see, particularly after having weeks of false labor and timeable contractions that weren't really "doing" a whole lot.  At 40 weeks, I was only 1cm and 70%, -3 station. I tried every kind of natural induction method you could think of - acupuncture (3 times), induction massage, super spicy foods, lots of sex, EPO, pineapple core, teas, exercise ball, etc etc.  My OB originally said she'd gently induce me with Pitocin around 41 weeks if I made some kind of decent progress, but at my 41 week appointment, I hadn't really progressed and she said I really needed a c-section so it was scheduled for the next day.  I felt so defeated and depressed.  A c-section was something I'd hoped for my entire pregnancy. I had severe PPD with my first, and I thought it might have been in part due to the c-section (hormones drop faster, plus the inability to get up and care for your child as easily as with a vaginal birth) and the significant pain in the initial days of recovery. 

Like you often hear, with the threat of a c-section or an induction, I actually went into labor on my own, that night around midnight.  I had timeable and painful contractions about 5m apart all night (and had only 1hr of sleep).  Around 6am, I texted my doula (who is DH's first cousin's wife) and she showed up at my house just before 8.  She was really helpful to keep me focused through each contraction.  I didn't exactly know what I was supposed to do because I had a scheduled c/s that evening, so I called my OB's office when they opened and they told me I needed to get to L&D, so we went around 10am.  When I arrived, I was 2.5cm and 100% effaced and 0 station. I was beyond psyched to learn that I had made, what I considered, decent progress.  My second favorite OB was in the hospital that day, and my OB was on call that evening, so what could be better?  Other than the fact that I hadn't eaten or slept since the evening before so I was real low on the energy front. 

The nurses and doc left me alone for hours at a time (I was constantly monitored as I had a prior c/s) and I naturally labored on the bed and the birth ball, and the rocking char in the room.  I had always said that I would get the epidural in the lobby if they allowed it, I was so not a proponent of natural childbirth, but with the doula, things felt manageable for the most part.  She helped me through every contraction and instructed DH what to do.  She applied lots of counter-pressure to my back, and we just got through each one each time. I was surprised at how intense the pain was, as I didn't have anything to compare it to (not menstrual cramps, not food poisoning pain, and not the pain I had with my miscarriage of my first pregnancy).  It was primal and I made sounds that I didn't think I'd make, but I never screamed or yelled (except when I was hep-locked - it took the nurse anesthetist AND the anesthesiologist SIX tries). I am still black and blue, over 2 weeks out...

I felt like I had a decent control over things.  I was checked again... 4cm, then 5, then the OB decided to break my water. That immediately caused the contractions to get much closer together, often only 1-1.5m apart and way more intense. My water didn't gush out like I thought it would, it was a slow leak, but it was clear so I thought that was good.

After 17hrs of med-free labor and no sleep, no food etc. I was feeling pretty good. My OB came in.  The tone significantly changed.  She seemed almost angry that I was in labor, and that she wasn't coming to prep me for a c-section.  She's been my doc for 8yrs but I saw a side to her in that room that I wasn't a fan of at all. She checked me and determined I was between 6-7 but that the baby was NOT at a 0 station and "a person would have to be blind to think otherwise."  She actually determined the baby was still at -2 or 3 and "way high up and not dropping."  She ordered an epidural for me and said that hopefully that would allow things to progress and if not, c-section.  I was pretty defeated for the first time that day.  I felt like things were going great and now I was on a timeline.  The anesthesiologist came back in and took 2 tries to get the epidural in, which was just as painful as it was for me with my DS's c-section.  Unfortunately, both times I've had epidurals, they nicked my nerve on the first try.  I yelped so hard, my doula heard me all the way down the hall. The only times I really cried or yelled were when getting stuck 6 times for the IV and twice for the epidural.  

An hour later, she came back and said I was more dilated but the baby hadn't dropped.  She was not optimistic. Then, at one point, a nurse came running in, turned me over on my left side and threw an oxygen mask on me.  Then my doc came running in.  My fear set in as I knew that meant the baby's heart rate had dropped (which had been at 150 for the entire day and the weeks prior). The baby's heart decelled to the 60's - 80's for a couple of minutes, which was unbelievably scary.  I told my OB that I would have a c-section immediately.  The baby's heart rate came back up to normal and she said "ok, we'll give you more time, I have some patients to see."  I had mentally checked out by that point. I sort of knew I was facing a c-section, and I just wanted it over with.  About an hour later, she came back in and said "we're going for a c-section."  I didn't even ask why.  The baby's heart rate had been fine, she didn't check me again.  I just didn't care at that point what her rationale was.  I asked if it was an emergency c-section, as I was slightly confused as to how fast we'd be going back, and she laughed at me. I thought it was a valid question... clearly not an emergency in her mind as it still took a bit of time to get to the OR and they took a long and casual time prepping me (I'd say at least 20m) even though I had all the anesthesia and catheter already and it seemed like forever before I saw DH again. I think around 8pm the surgery started.  It seemed to go so much more slowly than with DS and I think I felt a lot more, but no pain.  I wasn't even nervous.  I was just chatting with DH at that point waiting for it to be over and hear my little girl cry and see what she looked like. 

At some point I overheard my OB talking to the resident she was instructing, and she kept saying "uterine rupture" several times so I did ask if my uterus was ok, and she asked me to be quiet.  I did start to get a bit nervous thinking that I was in the less than 1% of ruptures and I had foolishly tried for a VBAC.  Then it was determined that my uterus did not rupture at all (which I learned from overhearing the docs talking).  Eventually, they pulled my baby out and that's when all hell broke loose.  When my son was born, he was only half out when he started screaming, to the point where my OB (same one who was delivering DD) told him "Not yet" which made everyone in the delivery room laugh that day. He ended up swallowing some fluid because he did cry before he was suctioned, but he was fine.  This time around, I didn't hear anything.  I knew the baby was out, and all I saw were doctors running around, and more people coming into the room, so I knew something was wrong, I just didn't know what. I learned a few minutes later that she wasn't being allowed to breathe because she had aspirated so much meconium.  

My DH went over to see her, and I was just lying there scared that my baby wasn't breathing and that she was blue (which I overheard from someone in the room).  I saw the look on my DH's face, which wasn't a good one.  Against my wishes, the OB told the anesthesiologist to put me out. I woke up in the hallway (just like the first time) on the way back to my labor room, where my best friend, and doula were waiting for me. DH was in the NICU with our daughter.  I was somewhat out of it from the drugs and confused as to what was going on.

Eventually, the NICU doctor came upstairs and sat down with me. She explained that my DD had severe meconium aspiration syndrome, which causes a pnemonia type effect, and she'd have to be intubated for 24hrs and she'd probably get worse before she'd get better IF she gets better.  I asked if the situation was life-threatening and she said yes, and then asked that I be brought down to see her. I of course realized how bad things were and started bawling. Her 1st APGAR score at birth was a 3. 

The brought me down to the NICU to see my Lily, who weighed 8lb6oz (only 2oz less than her big brother) and was 21.5" long (1 inch longer than DS).  She was beautiful, in spite of the breathing tube, the IV and all the other mechanisms which were attached to her. I was so in love with her, and all I wanted was for her to be ok. I was so scared that she wasn't going to be ok.  They wheeled me to my postpartum room, and I didn't sleep again at all that night until about 5am for an hour or two.  My OB walked in, and in the most un-gentle of ways, told me that I'd probably have PPD again and what was I going to do about it.  Meanwhile, I had been in a clinical trial for PPD at the National Institute of Health since I was 7 weeks pregnant, which she had known about all along. The protocol is to put patients on an estrogen patch at 2 weeks PP if symptoms develop. My OB said that she'd never sign off on that, as my chances of getting a deep vein thrombosis were too high.  Meanwhile, we have talked many times about the trial, but she was acting like she had never heard of it before. I was so confused. She then told me to just go to therapy (I'm a Psychotherapist so this was an interesting suggestion) or get meds and work things out. Again, I was in the trial, so I couldn't exactly just start meds (if I were on meds, I'd not be able to participate in the trial).  Anyway, she left the room abruptly and I was in tears. I couldn't reach DH by phone and I couldn't get out of bed yet.  I hated the feeling of being trapped.  Eventually my DH came back in, told me that DD was doing as well as she could be.  

I got to see DD again several times on the first day, but she wasn't allowed to eat or be held so I just had to look at her in her isolette. I was able to hold her on day 3 and feed her on day 4.  She kept improving and skipping steps on her recovery path, which I was so grateful for.  By about day 4, she was deemed healthy (no more meconium in her system) but because of the mandatory 7 day course of antibiotics, she would remain in the ICU.  So I BF'd her as often as I could get there (which was tough with a toddler who isn't allowed in the NICU) and pumped the rest of the time.  

We brought her home after a week and she's been great.  I don't have the symptoms of PPD like I had last time, which I am profoundly grateful for.  By this point last time, I was a spiraling mess.  I feel hopeful and optimistic and happy to have my family of 4.  After what is easily the most traumatic event in both mine and DH's lives, we're so happy that our girl made it.