A tale of four surgeries

when I thought I had no choice, that I needed a fifth section. I said I wanted to be knocked out then (granted I was depressed and overwhelmed). A good friend asked why, and here is the story of my first 4 Birth Days:

Ø Why do you want to be completely under for your section?

For this we need to back up and run through my birth histories. Please keep in mind that my family and coworkers and EVERY single person I knew was very very mainstream. I lived in a world split between nanny-raised kids and day-care babies. The parents I knew looked hard for daycares that took babies younger than 6 weeks, most were back to work at 2 weeks. NOBODY I knew ever tried to breastfeed. So I started my journey into motherhood differently from most on this list. I had NO idea there were still midwives- maybe in California but it was probably illegal even there. I DID read everything I could get my hands on- but that was OB waiting room magazines, What to Expect, and other similar items. If only I’d known then. But maybe it wouldn’t have changed a thing.

I was 23 and over the moon to be starting my family. I was socked with hyperemesis and tossed in the hospital twice in the first trimester. I had some bleeding. I was on bedrest most of the pregnancy. Still, I was pregnant and having a son and couldn’t be happier. I took the hospital birth class like a good patient, and so did Chris. I set up my crib in the 7th month. I began to dilate at 30 weeks. I was given steroid shots and preemie handouts to read. But the boy hung in there. 2 weeks before his due date I suspected I was leaking fluid. They tested w/ litmus and said I wasn’t. Several days later I complained again. I stole their litmus paper. They said I was fine. I had read on Stork Site that for a slow leak you should be tested by laying down for an hour then placing the paper and sitting up. I did that at home and it showed I was in fact leaking. I called the OB and was brought in AGAIN and tested wrong AGAIN and sent home AGAIN. 2 days later was my due date. My OB decided to do a quick ultrasound to prove that I wasn’t leaking fluid. What he found was only one SMALL pocket of fluid left. He immediately ruptured my (already leaking) amniotic sack. He had me call my husband. He folded up a big white tissue sheet- the one you wrap up in- and said to put it in my underwear and drive to the hospital and they’d induce NOW. I looked down to a pool of blood. I didn’t know you bled when they ruptured your sack? I have never gotten an answer for that. I went to St Joes. They started pitocin. He was posterior and I had back labor. They started an epidural. I made it to pushing, and I tried- but I had NO feeling and I doubt I was a good pusher. His heartrate dipped and they put a wire in his head L His heartrate still dipped and the rushed us for a c/s. He was born 6 minutes after we entered the OR. The OB sliced his head with the scalpel. He was 7lbs 14oz and perfect though. After 2 sad hours in recovery wanting my baby DESPERATELY we were both taken to a room and he stayed with me. I had severe tearing because the Dr tried to spin him and stuck both arms in me up to his elbows. I remember the nurses were FURIOUS that I didn’t get stitched up from the tears. I had those ice packs etc. The OB gave me only Tylenol for pain. The nurses forgot to check my incision sometimes because the perenium looked so bad. The next days OB may not have read my chart at all? He discharged me w/o any exam. I was home when my son was 26 hours old. It was almost 2 months before I could walk normally or climb stairs.
16 weeks after that ordeal I was pregnant again. It was absolutely intentional. And its amazing it happened. Connor nursed nearly nonstop including 8 or 80 times a night. I never got a period, just got pregnant.
I knew these things: labor HURRRRRRRRRRRRRRTS. Surgery is scary. Recovery HURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTS. I was afraid of a VBAC. I was afraid of another c/s. I read that VBAC was best, and I like to do whats best, so VBAC it would be. I suffered hyperemesis again, but wouldn’t leave Connor to go to the hospital. I slept in the bathroom so I could lift my head and vomit easily.I had some bleeding, as I always do. Other than that it was a typical pregnancy. I said I was due 7/4, they said 7/29. Skye came 7/16 weighing 8lbs 9oz and was deemed a 42 weeker. Labor started. I went to St Joes. I had had false labor for weeks and this was my third trip to L&D. I didn’t really think I was having a baby. The OB ordered pit- but the nurse didn’t start it (YAY). I dilated to 10 in 2-3 hours. She was also posterior. There was slight meconium staining in the fluids. They started a saline flush. I was pushing. I had good visualization. I felt strong and capable. Then they took away my isolette! I was SO MAD. I needed that. The nurse said I was going to the OR. For the meconium, and for failure to progress- but in 3-4 hours? How can that BE? (note: it was Friday and the OB had tickets to the hockey game) But that’s what happened. The epidural didn’t work. They clamped my belly to check and I yelped. They ignored it and began to cut. I screamed and screamed. I was in agony. My guts, hot, wet, sticky piled onto my chest. Screaming. I heard the screaming but was sort of unaware that it was me. Later I would find bruises on my wrists from the restraints- I was trying to leap off the table. I wanted to DIE. Chris had to watch and NOT PUNCH ANYBODY poor guy. When they cut the cord they finally gassed me. My baby was born and I didn’t even CARE. I just wanted it to end. I needed it to stop. They gassed me as they cut the cord. I didn’t have a single thought to spare for my new baby and I still have acute guilt for that. In recovery I remember asking over and over and over if she was ok, her weight, Apgars, etc. But I couldn’t remember their answers so I asked again and again. Four hours later Skye and I were brought together in our room. We had just bought our house and needed to go sign the papers. So she was 23 hours old when I took her home. 5 days later I had an OB appt. I had been feeling AWFUL. On the way down the hall at the office I fainted. I had a severe uterine infection. I was put in the hospital on several IV abx. They kept talking about a hysterectomy it was just so bad. I recovered though and came home, with all my parts.

Skye was 2, Connor 3, and I was pregnant with my 3rd. I bled and bled. They scheduled a D&C- but his heart was beating. I should come back in 2 days. Over and over. I bled and bled and they were sorry…. But there he was, still alive. He’d never make it. But I couldn’t do a D&C as long as the heart flickered on the screen. They scheduled me 3 times- but he clung to life. My hyperemesis was worse than ever. Connor was in a lot of therapies for his autism. He was 3 and a handful. I COULDN’T leave him to go the hospital. Skye was still nursing. So I agreed to take Zofran. On Zofran I only puked 8 or 12 times a day. I puked EVERY DAY of that pregnancy. I was with a different OB group this time. The only one I could find with a midwife on staff. But they wouldn’t consider a VBAC for me. So I scheduled my c/s. 2 weeks before the c/s date I had contractions. Its quite possible it was my “usual false labor” but I was big and miserable, he was 37 weeks, he was going to be a section anyway. The OB on call said “I’m here now. I’ll just do it now so I don’t have to come back later”. And so came Trew. Now we had set things up for him. He was going to nurse right away, we’d delay eye goo for 45 min (as long as they’d allow) they “needed” to take him to nursery but would do that while I was stitched so I could hold him and nurse him in recovery. Chris would stay with him. It was going to be ok. My nurse was AWESOME. But Trew had breathing trouble. And heart rate issues. My nurse took me from the OR to the SCN (special care nursery) to see him. Not to recovery, to my son. I love that nurse. She always brought me morphine at his side. But when I spoke to him, and especially when I touched him, his heart rate would plummet as would his oxygen. They had to “come save him” every time I touched him. So I couldn’t touch him. Or talk to him. Just look. It was AWFUL. But 4 days later we were together, he nursed, and we were released.
Then came Lochlan. I was sick, but it went away! I bled- but not so much. It was a good pregnancy. Same OB, same plan, but this time I would hold him while they stitched me. I had ctx’s early again. He was 36w3d and they drugged me to stop the ctx. I slept then, but contracted all night. I did not dilate at all. But they came at 6AM to section me. The surgery was fine, as far as surgeries go I guess. He had a big lump on his neck. They were concerned. But the ob nurse heard my other c/s stories and gave me my child. I held him and loved him and wept. And he was grunting and grayish. I knew he was headed to the special care. I held him as long as I could though. Then I had to hand him over. He spent a day in special care, but was getting worse. They transferred him to the other hospital to the NICU. He was GONE and I was trapped at Bon Secours. I cried in my room and a nurse peeked in and said “hmm little bit of baby blues huh?” and I wanted to punch her. Those were hard days. I pumped and pumped. He was IV fed for 3 days and then tube fed. He didn’t suck. He had trouble breathing, and heart rate issues, and thermoregulation issues, and the cystic hygroma, and they just didn’t know what was wrong really. He had pneumonia, seemed to have sepsis, he was sick. He eventually came home, but it took us a long time to get settled and get him taking his milk “from the tap” but he nurses well now.

And then I started looking into things. Found a VBAC was possible. Got pg. Worked really hard to get a VBAC cleared etc. And now am headed back into surgery. To slicing, dicing butchering. I’ll be at St Johns this time, Chris prefers it for the NICU and I frankly no longer care. They will NOT give me the baby in the OR or recovery. So I’d rather just be gassed. Gassing works. Gassing helps you forget parts of the experience. IV sedation is fine as well. I don’t want any part of another operation. They are physically and emotionally painful to me. I haven’t had any great benefits from being awake.
I really just don’t want any part of it. At all.