I guess this is as good a place as any to start. I decided early on I wanted a natural birth, all through antentala classes they all said you wait you'll be asking for the gas and the pethadene, but I knew what I wanted and I am pretty stubborn. I read up on hypnobirthing, but didn't find out there were classes nearby (well an hour or so away)until about 35 weeks. I was as ready as I could be and hubby was supportive of whatever I wanted, obviously so long as I and bub weren't at risk.
QAt my 36 weeks appointment the midwife plapated my belly and asked me to raise my legs because she couldn't find the head and needed to feel lower, At this point she said it felt as though bub was well head down and ready to go and the heartbeat on the doppler seems to have supported this fact. They realised I hadn't seen the doctor which is supposed to occur at 36 weeks, so scheduled me to see him the next week.
At 37 weeks I saw the doctor and he did an ultrasound for positioning and growth. Immediatly he pronounced that bub was breech. He gave me very few options at this point so I went home and researched and started doing anything I could to turn bub. I searched my small town for a chiropractor who worked with pregnant women. The one I chose had a high success rate with breech babies. I was at the chiro daily.
38 weeks and the scan showed bub was stille breech, at this point I was offered an ECV and went the next day (it was at a hospital around an hour away, my local hospital does not do anything they deem high risk). The doctor performing the ECV tried as hard as he could, even going beyond where he would have usually stopped because I was tolerating it well (thank you hypnobirthing), but bub wouldn't turn. They explained the risks of a breech birth and asked if I wanted to schedule my c-section now (this hospital will deliver breech vaginally however still prefer a c-section). I explained I wasn't from there and would speak with my own doctor at my next appointment.
I reserached more, shared my research with hubby, added Bowen therapy to the chiro and spinning babies, played music, spoke to baby (did the drugs are bad talk) and went to my 39 week appointment, still breech. Doctor wanted to schedule a c-section and I refused wanting to give bub every chance to turn. Back to chiro and all of the above that I was trying with efforts double seeing as I had started my leave.
at 39 and 5 I went into labour. This is my birth story: (I took bits and pieces out)
I felt absolutly fine and was making a huge to do list for the week to keep me occupied. I had no signs of anything happening at all. I was watching tv and hubby called for me to pick him up and on the way in I noticed I had a bit of a cough like I get when I am having issues with my asthma, but thought nothing of it, maybe that there was a small change int he weather coming or it was just hormones. I came home with hubby got his tea and fed the cats before I went to bed. I noticed the cats weren't scarfing their dinner down like normal, but I just thought it was because they are never really fussed on loaf style food which is what they had for the night. In hind sight heir behaviour was really abnormal though and hubby said when he came to bed they were both lying right next to me watching me very closely.
Anyway, I went to bed around 10ish and Lyle came in around 12:20am and cuddled up. I lay there for about ten minutes and then decided I needed to go to the toilet. I sat up and had a small gush. I swore and told Lyle I think I had just peed myself, which he thought was quite funny until I got another small gush and realised it was probably my water breaking. I told him and he asked if he had time for a shower and I said to go for a quick one while I rang the hospital to let them know I was on my way, that bubby had been breech for a few weeks and I thought my water had broken. During this time I had another gush and asked Lyle to bring a towel because a pad wasn't going to cut it any longer. I waddled around the house with a towel between my legs getting dressed and grabbing the bags and the last few bits and pieces and then drove to the hospital (yes I drove myself to the hospital). All the way there I had a few more gushes, but nothing else. We pulled up at the hospital and went in, by the time I got to the door I was having some uncomfortableness which I guess was the start of contractions and by the time they let us in (doors locked and had to be buzzed in) and by the time I got to the maternity ward the uncomfortableness was full blown contractions and becoming very unpleasant, and this was maybe a 5 minute walk (well waddle, I still had the towel between my legs). I was given a classy pad for my waters and the midwives checked bub's position and found he was still breech so they did an internal exam to check the cord wasn't presenting and rang down to get theatre ready for me. I didn't even ask how dilated I was because once they found he was breech I knew it didn't matter it was an immediate c section. I was offered to go to the bigger hospital an hour away, but hubby doesn't drive and I knew with the way contractions were it wouldn't be safe for me to drive myself. They put the catheter in at this point and I was in tears because I had to have the c-section. The doctor came in with the consents and I signed them while contracting. The contractions went from nothing to very close together very quickly, but I never bothered timing them because of the c-section, but they were much closer than 5 minutes apart, maybe 2 or 3 minutes at the most, some of them may not have even been that far apart. It felt like someone was trying to push my pelvis in two and like I was having really bad cramps in the very tops of my legs and pelvis area. The midwives sent me for a shower for pre op and got me ready. I saw the pad they had given me and I had lost my mucous plug onto it at some point. Once they were ready I was pushed down to theatre crying the whole time. Lyle was with me the whole time until we got to the doors and then he was sent to get into scrubs and had to wait while I was given the spinal. They said they would put the spinal in between contractions and I plainly told him he had better be quick because that was a very small window of oppurtunity. He started putting it in at the end of a contraction and before he was finished another one had started. I was shivering and crying but got through the needles and was set for surgery. Lyle came in and sat next to me and was reassuring me this was what was best for bub. He was watching what was happening in the light above us because he couldn't see over the drape and they annouced bub was coming out. Lyle looked up and said "It looks like a rabbit, but thats not a tail. We've got a Ronin" (we didn't find out the gender prior to birth). I think I cried a little bit then, I wasn't expecting a boy, and truth be told if bub had been a girl would have had the same reaction as I wouldn't have been expecting a girl either, it's like this was the first time the whole pregnancy had felt real.
He cried very quickly and peed on the floor of the room even before he started to cry. The midwife took him to wrap him up and make sure he was ok and bought him straight to us as quickly as she could. It was really hard for me because I couldn't hold him, but Lyle was and he was right up at my face. He was as the midwives put it a typical breech and his little legs wouldn't stay down so we had his feet sticking up as well. The midwife asked how big we thought he was and I said I thought maybe 8 pound something and she agreed. They finished up the surgery and had to give Ronin to Lyle and he took him out of the room while they transferred me to another bed and got me sorted, the wheeled me out to the hall where the midwife immediatly placed Ronin on my chest for skin to skin and to feed. He found his way very quickly and the midwife was surprised at how well and how quickly he had latched. We went back to our room and settled in for a few hours and then let family and friends know around 5:30/6 am that we had Ronin. They weighed him (mind you he had been feeding for awhile at this stage) and he came up 6lb 8oz which surprised us all. Hubby had to come home because he had work and wanted to try and get some sleep before he started his shift. Poor guy only got a half hour then did a full day at work, and came to see me in his break.
I hate that I now have this horrible scar forever, but love the little man the I got from it. Am I ok with my birth, not really, but in the circumstances it was for the best, hubby asked me not to have a vaginal birth because he didn't like the idea of putting Ronin at any increased risk because of his breech position and I respected his wishes because he was so supportive with everything and frankly it would not have been safe for me to drive myself to the other hospital, and it would have been a long wait for my Mum to come and get me, we might not have made it to the hospital. I guess I can only give myself the peace of mind that I tried everything I could to get him to turn, refused to schedule a c-section to give him until the last minute (gee wonder where his stubborn in not turning came from) and the fact I have a beautiful, healthy almost 6 month old is something I need to rmemeber more often. Oh and having hubby annouce he looked like a rabbit is a moment that will stay with me forever.
I think I've reached a curve in my view of Will's birth.
I used to be upset with myself for not trying harder to have him at home. But I think all those feelings boil down to my treatment at the hospital.
The OB on call really did not make me feel good. As soon as I got there, he walked into the room, and without even looking at me in the eye, said "section".
My midwife took him out of the room and when he returned he introduced himself and then checked my chart. I feel as though he was upset with me for trying a home birth. Everything I've heard/read about this OB he has horrible reviews for natural birthing mothers, so I can only imagine he wasn't impressed with me trying for a home birth.
After he introduced himself he had to perform a cervical check to see how far dilated I was because I wanted an epidural... the cervical check he performed was horrible. They're not comfortable as it is, but this check was violent. I remember yelling it hurt so bad.
After I got my epidural a nurse came in and said "we're going to start your pitocin" and I asked to speak with my midwife before the nurse started that, and the nurse gave me a dirty look, scoffed and said "fine".
The OB came in when they couldn't find Will's heart on the monitors and he was saying "section" the whole time. He had to perform another cervical check, because if I was fully dilated I was going to try and push. This check was just as horrible as the first one. Even though I had an epidural it was excruciating when he checked me.
Thankfully I was able to push out my baby in 3 contractions (with the help of a vacuum).
While he was sewing up my episiotomy (which I never wanted..) he offered to put in an extra stitch for my husband. What gives him the right to insinuate that my vagina is not adequate and that I need an "extra stitch".
I was in horrible pain from my stitches they put me on morphine. I learned 2 weeks later that my stitches were too tight and my midwife had to remove 3 undissolved stitches.
Looking back on this, I feel like the OB was punishing me. Like I was a problem and he kept doing all he could so I would be a "section".
All in all, this only makes me strive for a home birth with baby #2. I don't want to be treated like I'm nothing because I wanted to have my baby at home. I should have been treated with dignity and respectfully, instead I was only made to feel like an inconvenience...
... next time will be different!
I pretty much avoided this board after Brayden was born, I felt like such a failure. Im coming back now as I am trying for a VBAC with this one.
With Brayden, I PLANNED to do everything naturally. We took 1 on 1 birthing classes. We hired a doula with years of experience. I went to a Webster-trained chiropractor, I got massages. I sat on my birthing ball and did spinning babies.
I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes and ended up "insulin dependent" - which was probably really wrong. I was in residency and I couldnt keep my sugars under control after dinnertime. Go figure, that's when cortisol levels are the highest and I was stressed out of my gourd anyway. I refused glyburide and by the end took 10 units of novolog 30 minutes before dinner each night. I was always in excellent control.
I fought with my OB, who wanted to induce me at 38 weeks, I said no, but compromised on 40 weeks. Brayden was OP, did NOT want to come down. At 39 weeks, I was hardly effaced or dilated, and she insisted that I could NOT go past my EDD (never gave me a really good reason though, he was passing his biweekly NSTs with flying colors). So, I agreed to a "staged" induction.
I went in at 39+4 and had cervidil for 12 hours, which did nothing. I went to see her in her office 2 days later and was "fingertip", and she swept my membranes (OUCH). I was also doing all the other things to encourage labor - walks, sex, etc.
I went in Sunday (Monday was my EDD) expecting more Cervidil, but I was contracting and I guess they cant do it if you're contracting. I had a Bishop score of 2 at that point, and the started pit at 5 pm. My doula's special needs 20something year old son developed pneumonia and was admitted to the ICU on the same day, and she had no backup. So, she wasnt there at that point. I took an Ambien and tried to go to sleep but it didnt help much.
At 0800 the next morning, my OB came in and told me it was GOING to happen THAT DAY, and that nothing had changed since the night before (despite the night of pit). So, I stupidly allowed her to do AROM. (stupid, in retrospect). Then, they CRANKED the pit. I had my birthing ball, etc, but I was on a monitor due to the pit and was pretty nonmobile, and as they cranked it, the contractions clustered - each lasting about 5 minutes with 2-3 peaks per contractions, with about 30 seconds between contractions.
My doula came at about 10 am, but didnt do much but sit in a chair and stare at me (she was very obviously preoccupied, which is TOTALLY understandable...but...well...). We ended up sending her home to go be with her son. Even with the pit cranked to 60, I made approximately zero progress (probably b/c it hurt SO. DAMN. BAD) and after several hours, I gave in and got an epi to see if it would help. I had told them to turn the pit down and they outright refused. (this pisses me off more the more I think about it). I made it to 5 pretty quickly, then to 8 by about 9 pm. However, Brayden was still ballotable, not turning, not descending or engaging at all. My epidural failed 3 times. By about 9:30pm, I was so tired I was having double vision. Luckily, Brayden was tolerating things well.
I, on the other hand, was climbing the bedrails with every contraction.
So, when they recommended the c-section (and told me that everybody ELSE had already HAD their babies), I gave in out of pure exhaustion. The anesthesiologist put lidocaine in my epidural for the section, but I still felt everything. I refused to let the knock me out, and despite the pain, I was so tired that I was intermittently passing out/falling asleep. I couldnt even focus on Brayden when DH brought him to me and though I wanted him in the OR with me, I sent them to get the newborn stuff over with while they finished the surgery.
I did get to breastfeed him within an hour after birth, which was good, but I was still so tired it was crazy.
I had major issues breastfeeding, and the ONLY reason I perservered with it was because of the overwhelming guilt that I deprived him of the birth he deserved and by golly, I WAS going to make up for it by breastfeeding for a year or more, come hell or high water. I did, too, but it doesnt alleviate the guilt.