My son’s birth was not at all how I’d pictured it. Early in my pregnancy, I had decided I wanted
a natural childbirth experience, a home birth with a midwife. I saw a midwifery group for all my prenatal
visits, didn’t have all the now-usual ultrasounds and testing and
interventions, and was on track to deliver my baby in the comfort and privacy
of my own home. Well, that didn’t
happen. I had some preterm contractions
at 30, 35, and 37 weeks, but primarily the problem was that Xander never
turned. For those of you who may not
know, babies are usually supposed to turn head down by 35 weeks or so, and
certainly before birth in the vast majority of cases. Xander was stuck head-up, with his feet up by
his head, which is known as frank breech position. Although there are some practitioners who
will perform a vaginal breech delivery, my midwives are not among them, so at
36 weeks I was transferred to the care of an OB-GYN, and began planning to have
a Caesarean section. Meanwhile, I did
nearly everything in my power to encourage the baby to turn, to no avail. I am very grateful for my doctor, and was
especially glad that he was as evidence-based in his practice and supportive of
me as he was. I wanted the baby to come
in his own timing, so I wanted to schedule my C-section later rather than
earlier, and we decided to schedule it for right when I turned 39 weeks.
At 38 weeks and 2 days, or about two weeks before my
original due date, I went into labor. I
had had the regular contractions before, but this time I knew if we waited a
little, I would have cervical changes and it would be considered real
labor. I tracked my contractions for
several hours on Sunday night, and then went to bed for a couple of hours. By 3 am, they had gone from slightly
uncomfortable to “oh wow these are legit contractions now!” So, by 5 am we were at the hospital, ready to
have our baby! I was monitored, and
given terbutaline (again) to stop my contractions to allow time for the OR team
to arrive and set up. Because the
contractions were stronger (and more painful) than the other times I’d had it,
it didn’t work 100%. I wryly commented
to my husband Andrew while we were in the labor evaluation room how very far this scenario was from what I’d
originally wanted. I had envisioned
laboring at home, in a peaceful and calm environment, with a midwife who
checked on my status occasionally but mostly watched from a small
distance. Instead, I lay in a hospital
bed, with monitors, an IV, and a catheter, at one point receiving oxygen by
mask, waiting to be rolled into a surgical birth. I knew it was necessary for my baby’s safety,
but that didn’t mean I was thrilled to do it that way.
In the OR, I received my spinal block and laid down. I hadn’t realized how much sensation you
retain with a spinal. I could feel the
scrubbing of the prep solution on my belly, and later the internal pressure as
the surgical team delivered the baby, but no pain; it was very strange. I was dizzy the whole time from the
anesthesia, and unfortunately, I became nauseated right after Xander was
born. I had really wanted to start
skin-to-skin time in the OR, to avoid even the delay until we got to the
recovery room, and my doctor was very supportive of this idea. When my son was born, they brought him over
to me, and we started to do skin-to-skin, but I could only do it for a minute
or two before my nausea became overwhelming.
At that point, my anesthesiologist gave me Benadryl (he had already
given me the anti-nausea med Zofran), which pretty much knocked me out.
That was one of the main things I wish had been different
about that day, because I felt like I missed out on the first bonding time. I know that my husband and my son and I spent
an hour in the recovery room, and I know we did skin-to-skin then and that my
son probably benefited from it, but I felt like we were only there five
minutes, because of how little I was aware of it at the time and what I
remember of that time now. I felt like I
missed out on that first period of alertness that my son had after he was born. I even asked my husband later if he had been
alert, because I didn’t remember it at all.
After that hour, I was rolled to my room on the floor, where
both sets of new grandparents were waiting.
Throughout the course of the day, everyone in our immediate families and
a couple of friends visited. I’m
grateful it worked out for everyone to be there; I know it meant a lot to them
to meet Xander the first day. Most of
the day was a bit of a blur to me. I
continued to deal with dizziness and nausea, so I tried not to spend too much
time with my eyes open or move my head too quickly, but I still got sick four
times that day. Looking back at photos
from that day, I can’t get over how pale I looked. By the evening, I was finally able to keep
some liquids down, and keep my eyes open longer without excessive nausea. After visiting hours ended, we had the first
time alone as the three of us during which I was truly aware. I think it was around that time that I felt
like it began to sink in that our son had arrived. All day long I had felt emotionally numb, and
it had mostly seemed like I was holding someone else’s baby. I think the nature of a C-section, as well as
the drugs I’d received, facilitated this mental disconnect. When I had time and mental energy to reflect
on it, it struck me as so odd how I had walked into a room pregnant, and from
behind a curtain came a baby, who was ours.
It never occurred to me before that a C-section birth could
be such a different emotional experience than a vaginal birth. In basically all the videos of birth and live
births (both vaginal and C-sections) that I’d seen, there was a moment right
after the baby’s arrival when the new mom met her baby for the first time – it
was usually with tears of joy, exclamations of “our baby!” and always with an
expression of a deep emotional response.
When I was planning a vaginal delivery, I so looked forward to that
moment, and the pleasant rush of hormones that accompanies a natural birth. Once we knew we were having a C-section, I
knew I wouldn’t get that natural high from hormones, but I still expected that
joyous time of realization that my baby had arrived. I don’t think I ever had that moment. Laying on the operating table, hearing my
baby cry for the first time, I knew that was my baby crying, and I wanted to
see him and hold him, but I was incredibly devoid of emotions at the same
time. It was like I wanted to have all
the right emotional responses, but they just wouldn’t come. I understood that a C-section would be a
different physical experience, especially in terms of a longer and
differently-challenging recovery, but I didn’t think it would be so vastly
different emotionally.
Thankfully, I had started to bond with Xander while he was
inside me, and I was already determined to bond with him more and establish a
breastfeeding relationship. I do wonder
how much more effort it might have taken to bond with him, though, had I not
previously done so and decided to do so.
Now, it’s been two and a half weeks since I was sent home
from the hospital, and physically, I’m doing quite well. For the first two weeks of Xander’s life, I
felt like I had an unexpected amount of energy and was coping exceptionally
well with sleep deprivation. I don’t
know if my body just reached its limit or if it was the other night when
Xander’s sleep came in chunks less than two hours each, but that energy is
gone. Still, I’m able to do more than I
expected to be able to at this point. I
walked up the stairs to our apartment by myself (without too much difficulty,
even) the first day we got home, four days after his birth. We made it to church on that first Sunday,
just six days after the C-section. I’m
able to sit up pretty easily now, though I still use a bit of leverage (the
crib next to our bed). The pain from my
incision and the surrounding area has been almost nil for awhile now. Engorgement (when my milk came in) and the
migraines I’ve been dealing with have both been much more problematic.
Actually, I knew ahead of time that migraines would be an issue for me
postpartum, so I went out on a bit of a limb and encapsulated my placenta. I had heard that the placenta has varied
benefits such as helping with milk supply, moodiness, and other hormone-change
related problems, and I’d hoped that taking the capsules would help prevent or
lessen the migraines. That has not
seemed to be the case since I’ve had eight migraines in the two weeks since
we’ve been home. I haven’t had any
problems with moodiness at all, though, and my milk supply has been great, so
it’s possible they are still helpful.
Hopefully, the migraines will ease off over the next couple of weeks.
In my next post, I plan to reflect on new motherhood. For now, I’m off to try to catch some more
sleep.
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