Welp…it has been quite a while since my last post. We have had quite an eventful couple of days, which is why I am back here writing…processing…sharing.
I haven’t really been around over the past few weeks because, in short, I’ve been preparing. Going inside myself to prepare for our daughter’s upcoming birth. As I’ve mentioned here and there in previous posts, I had a bit of a traumatic birth experience with our son and I have had to do a lot a lot of internal soul searching and preparation to allow that birth to be what it was (the beautiful situation and experience in which Taran came earth side) and to allow Baby S’s birth to be what it will be as well, mutually exclusive of one another.
I’ve been innately aware of how each and every thought or feeling coursing through me affects my body and my belief system about this upcoming birth. And it has taken a lot of work for me to release certain thoughts and expectations that I have been holding on to tightly for the past 3.5 years.
I have had days here and there where I’ve wanted to come to this space and share what has been going on in our lives. But I felt like immersing myself within my family, within myself, connecting to this experience on a very raw and primal level was what I needed…and honestly, that’s about the extent of what I’ve been doing. It’s been emotionally, mentally, and physically draining but also life giving, changing, and empowering.
I have felt in such a good place in the days leading up to this time. I haven’t felt pressure about her birth, or anxiousness about when she will come. I have felt very trusting in whatever her and my body planned to do, how they are working together, and how they will continue to work in unison to bring her into this world.
On Wednesday things changed, plans were altered, and I’m only now beginning to process and work through it. I want to share what has gone down over the past two days to help myself process, but also because perhaps my story can be of help to someone else someday…somewhere. And, I’m sure there are some who are curious and want more details as well, which is normal and fine!
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On Monday morning I had a midwife appointment that showed my belly hadn’t grown in my last two visits. I wasn’t concerned because we also were told baby had engaged her head behind my pelvic bone…and that generally makes it harder to measure. I’d also previously read that a baby can measure two weeks ahead or behind and it not be a problem.
The Thursday before I had felt her drop. I had quite a bit of early labour symptoms, and actually thought I was in labour after she dropped. The only other time I’d felt that specific feeling overcome my body was when my water had broken with Taran. Between Thursday and Monday there were increasing signs that labour might be coming, and when Brandon left Monday morning I began to feel rather nervous that she might come while he was away. I did say to him the day before he left, “I have a feeling about the 6th. Something might happen on the 6th.”
On Tuesday I received a phone call booking me in for an ultrasound on Wednesday, just to check that baby was growing appropriately and there weren’t any restrictions. I became worried about amniotic fluid levels, but nothing really prepared us for what we saw when the ultrasound tech placed the doppler on my belly. There on the screen, was my cervix, and resting right on it was not a head at all…it was a fist…followed by a folded arm and shoulder. Her head was in fact over by my right hip. I knew what this meant when I saw it. I didn’t know the severity of it at that time, but I knew it wasn’t good. The tech took a long time getting really close and really far from the screen trying to figure out what Baby S was doing and the exact position she was in. It was very hard to see or figure out.
I was trying to hold it together when my sister and I left the clinic, anxious to get on the phone with my midwife. Her response was not quite what I expected…pick your son up from school, bring him home, and meet me at the hospital. You might be looking at a cesarean tonight.
Jaw on floor.
When she commented on how calm I was, the tears began to flow…and they didn’t really stop for the rest of the afternoon and evening. I feel sorry for Taran’s teacher…she was the first person I saw after the phone call and I could not stop the tears. Her giving me a hug only made it worse (although I obviously appreciated the hug).
I tried as hard as I could not to cry the entire car ride home, but just looking at Taran made my eyes well up. I was so devastated to be away from him. Just that morning I had felt so excited about the two weeks I had alone with him, free to enjoy him as a single-child before the birth of his sister. Free to dote on him and make decisions and plans last minute…late night swimming, popcorn movie nights whenever we wanted, last minute drives out to special beaches and parks. I didn’t feel anxious awaiting the arrival of baby S, but thrilled that I had this special time with Taran before she comes. And then I felt it being ripped away from me and it sucked and I was sad.
Some henna B and I did last weekend.
I brought him home and talked to him about the situation in the best way I could, in a way I thought he’d understand. My mom and him were having a lot of fun when my sister and I left for the hospital, which felt good. Of course, Brandon had just left for work on Monday so we weren’t prepared to be bringing him home.
When we got to the hospital we got the pretty straight forward news…shoulder and hand presenting…very critical situation IF my water were to break and I went into labour. They needed to get Baby S out as soon as possible to avoid the very serious situation that would have ensued if I went into labour naturally (which at 38 weeks can happen at any time, especially given I’d had almost a week of early labour symptoms). Only 0.3 – 0.5% of babies present in this way, it is extremely rare and my midwife has never seen it in her 25+ years of experience.
When her and the OB talked to us (my sister Jessica, my Doula, and myself), my options were pretty straight forward. I could choose to have a cesarean that night, or give it a day or two to see if baby would move on her own. The risk with waiting a day or two meant that if my water did break, baby’s arm would descend first which could have resulted in a broken arm, and/or permanent nerve damage to her arm and neck as the pressure of her arm pushing down would have pulled on her neck, which would have still been inside. And then, in order to even get her out would have meant a very emergent situation of me being completely put under for a cesarean where the cut would be much more severe in order to be able to pull up her arm and to remove her in a way that didn’t cause more damage. All in all, not a situation I was willing to put myself or baby in, especially given that I’d felt for days that my water was going to break at any moment. My other option was to opt for an immediate cesarean which would drastically reduce the risks we were looking at that *might* have happened had we waited. They could not offer me external manipulation to try to move her because of the risks involved. Due to my previous cesarean there were risks of a uterine rupture, but also rupturing my membranes which would have meant an emerg cesarean as well.
After picking him up from school and just about to leave for the hospital.
After talking to Brandon we decided what was best was to get the cesarean as soon as possible to ensure a healthy delivery while avoiding potential risks. We were told that the chances of her moving (pulling her arm and shoulder out of my pelvis and rotating her body and neck to the left and then engaging her head in my pelvis) was next to impossible. Of course this was very emotional for us and a very emotional decision, especially given that Brandon wasn’t home and it meant me being away from Taran for a few days while in hospital to recover.
In between waiting for the OB and my midwife to talk and make decisions, our Doula had me in a few inversion positions trying to help facilitate some rearranging for Baby S. We were told they likely wouldn’t work, but we were also told they were the only thing we could try. First she had me with my knees up on a chair and my elbows on the floor, holding this pose for 30 seconds. Then she had me on the bed with my top leg draped over my bottom leg, allowing my weight to all fall forward into her.
After waiting around for a couple of hours on Wednesday night, my midwife let me know that a few emergent cases had come in and they’d bumped me to the next day. She said to call her first thing in the morning before eating or drinking to check with her on a surgery time. So we packed up and went home for the night. I barely slept at all as I just wanted to cuddle Taran and read as much as I could about our situation, as well…I was just worried and scared. I had worked so hard to come to a place of preparedness for this labour and birth and it felt taken from me so quickly. Without warning I had to give up even the opportunity to labour or birth naturally. I felt sad. I finally fell asleep in the early hours of Thursday morning and received a phone call a couple of hours later asking me not to eat anything.
(I was supposed to then receive a call letting me know I could eat breakfast, but whoever was supposed to make that call didn’t…and I ended up with no solid food until after 5 pm — oops.).
{During the night I had felt a huge movement on behalf of baby S. I had been laying on my right hand side, propped up on pillows for comfort. The movement was so big and extreme that I was actually worried my water was going to break so I moved onto my other side and tried not to move a muscle. The next morning I felt hiccups on my left side, which was the opposite side of where her head was on the ultrasound. I texted my sister and Doula (who were both on call ready to go to the hospital with me in a moments notice) making jokes about if she’d moved and how funny that would be, assuming I was just not able to properly gauge where she was.}
Around 12:30pm on Thursday I received a call saying to come to the hospital ASAP and that surgery would be at 3pm. What a whirlwind. We were out, expecting that the cesarean might be Friday instead as the hospital was so busy, so we rushed home. I hopped in the shower to scrub down with these antiseptic soap sponges I’d been given, packed a few bags with smaller baby clothes and more clothes for me, said some very weepy goodbyes to Taran, and left to pick up my sister. When we arrived at the hospital everything moved so fast. They had me set up my stuff in a mom and babe room for after delivery. My Doula took the time to hang up my clothes, and we set up pictures and sentimental treasures on the bedside table (Taran’s hand coloured bird house and water-colour painting). We tested out Skype with Brandon to ensure it worked during surgery. This was very emotional. I was having so many flashbacks to when Taran was born. To the physical pain I knew was coming from the surgery, to the emotional pain that I was experiencing from going through this without Brandon and Taran. But I was incredibly supported by my sister and my Doula who were so very amazing to me in every moment.
Cuddling while waiting for the call.
We had arrived at the hospital at 1:45, and within a matter of 30 minutes there people in and out of my room with paper work, bloodwork, pills for me to take pre-op, hospital gowns to dress in, total prep for surgery. It was in these quick moments that the tears started and didn’t really stop for the next couple of hours. At 2:54 on the dot I was brought out of bed and walked the halls into surgery, holding my sisters hand crying and trying hard to take deep breaths. That walk was so hard for me. I saw the elevators and just wanted to jump in and go home. I felt so scared of what was coming next. I was trying so hard to be calm, I mean, what other option did I have?
I had turned for a moment and my sister was gone…they had taken her away to get her in scrubs and ready to sit by me in the operating room. And the whisked me away to prepare me in the OR.
Walking into the OR coherent, awake, aware…was such a different experience than the last time when I was pushed in in an emergent situation where they needed to get Taran out pretty quickly. I sat on the bed as she administered my IV and prepped my back for the anesthesiologist. One by one the room started filling with nurses busy with tasks. One at the baby table, one with me, another working with the machines. Then my midwife and her student came in, followed by the OB and a Dr. in to assist her. I felt very surrounded by a great group of women. They were all so kind and loving to me as I sat there and wept about the situation. My midwife and I discussed who was going to Skype with Brandon so that he had the best view, and we were going on and on about what an awesome husband I have. We were moments away from having the anesthesiologist in, and my sister, and ultimately beginning surgery and meeting our little girl.
Leaving for the hospital…
When I had first arrived to the hospital I asked the nurse if Baby S could be checked again because I wanted to know for sure she hadn’t moved before being cut open. We overheard her talking to other nurses in the hallway and it sounded like this was going to happen, but it didn’t happen before being prepped and brought into the surgery room. When I was in the OR I asked another nurse if they were going to check her position and she said no. I felt a bit panicked because something inside of me just told me that she might have. That in some amazing act of serendipity, prayer, intention, and working gentle inversions, she had managed to unwedge herself from her dangerous position.
When the OB came in, and after some discussion about her position, my midwife asked her to check the positioning again. I laid down on the OR table and after some less-than-gentle prodding, heard the OB say “I think that’s her head in your pelvis”…..we all were quiet. My midwife had said that she had also thought that was her head at my last visit but that it wasn’t, or hadn’t turned out to be….so the OB grabbed an ultrasound machine to double check. All I could see was the giant lights above me (turned off) and a group of women in scrubs, masks, and hair nets standing all around me. The OB was standing in front of the ultrasound screen, so the only way I knew our little girl had indeed moved was from the loud gasps let out around the room, followed by an “awwww” when they saw that she was now resting that fist opened against her face (as if to say…”haha, I’m so funny.”) I will never forget the sound of those gasps, and the relief that washed over me in that moment. I looked to my right as the OB moved out of the way and showed me her head, nestled engaged in my pelvis. She was unable to move her head up, which gave her confidence that she wouldn’t move again. The OB then turned to me and said “well, the reason you’re here right now no longer exists. Do you want to go home?”
I laid there stunned. I really couldn’t say much more than “are you kidding me?!”
The OB was very supportive of me leaving and continuing to try for my VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean). She said that if they had offered me external manipulations the day before, this is the position they would have been aiming to get her in, and that she was in an ideal position for attempting a VBAC. I still felt a bit apprehensive and wondered if we should just go ahead with the cesarean in case she moved again, so my midwife gave me her cell phone to call Brandon (while still laying on the OR table with an IV pumping away). I could hear apprehension in Brandon’s voice too (we’d gone through so much in the past 24 hours)…we just didn’t really know what to do. Stay and continue with the cesarean, or leave and be given an opportunity to go into labour naturally, to have my VBAC that I’ve been preparing for for months, for Brandon to actually have a chance to be here and help catch Baby S as planned, and to avoid a lengthy hospital stay and be home with Taran sooner with less recovery time. The most logical choice seemed pretty apparent the more we discussed it, although I could still hear fear in both of our voices as I know we both wondered if something like this would happen again.
My sister ready to go into the OR
My midwife and the OB talked for a few more moments about Taran’s birth and the chances of history repeating itself, confirming that leaving was in fact a smart decision. But the OB felt confident. This baby is measuring at 6pds 12oz, whereas Taran was born at 8pds 12 oz, a full two pounds difference. And the one uterine tear I did have during the birth of Taran was horizontal, not vertical. I had been told after his birth that I would be able to attempt a VBAC in the future, and to just give my body at least two years to recover first. The OB said that the only reason she’d feel uncomfortable sending me home is if I’d been told never to attempt a VBAC. It’s been 3.5 years since my cesarean with Taran.
Brandon practicing his meeting baby S face
So, we left. We took off our hair nets and walked down the same hallway back to the room we’d set up only hours before. I stood there stunned for what felt like forever before I got dressed. In shock over everything that had just happened. When we’d arrived at the hospital I was taking mental notes about everything so that I could write it down for Baby S and her birth story, the room number, the sky outside, the smiles and laughs we encountered as we chatted, the tears that ultimately fell. I had her first outfits picked out and had remained focused on holding her, and how deeply I’ve been longing to just hold her against my shoulder, smelling her sweet newborn head and staring into her beautiful eyes. When I felt sad and scared I continued to envision being with her after the surgery. And now….it felt over in a way, or taken from me. At first I’d had to give up labouring and a VBAC, relinquishing any control, and now I was giving up knowing that I’d be holding our daughter in only a few hours. It was such a mind game and felt so bizarre.
Baby S last weekend, letting us know how she felt about henna.
And yet, after all of that, here I am…still pregnant…a seemingly healthy daughter still bumping around womb side, back to waiting patiently for her arrival. Back to wondering when labour will start, preparing (again) for labour and birth. Our plans have altered a bit as I am now required to have another ultrasound when labour begins to ensure she has continued in the right position with her head down. This means labouring at home for as long as possible might not be possible…as I will be going to the hospital immediately to check on her (but I can go home after that if I want to wait out labour). Who knows what will happen though.
This has all been pretty draining for me. My mind has gone back and forth as to whether or not I made the right choices. And I know I did make the right choices, but I feel a little bit lost with where I am right now. I laugh because it’s just been so crazy. Which is what my midwife said..the chances of this happening are so slim, and for her to resolve her position…is an absolute miracle but also absolutely crazy. I have learned a lot and gained a lot of healing from this experience, which I’m grateful for.
I have an appreciation for cesareans now, an understanding of situations where they are needed and pure thankfulness for the ability to have had one so quickly to not only save her but also me. Before cesareans existed, babies presenting in this position would have resulted in infant and maternal mortality…which was quite devastating for me to read on Wednesday night while waiting for our call. I also have a deep appreciation for the hospital and the staff behind those walls. I was treated so well by everyone there, my opinions mattered, I was given choices and talked to in such a respectful way. I feel like I was given the opportunity to experience cesareans from the other side, and I feel completely different about them than I had previously.
A week and a bit ago at 37 weeks.
In addition, I feel like my months of preparation and inner work has benefited me regardless of how this birth goes. I wanted to be in a place where I could handle whatever was thrown my way with calmness and peace. I feel like I was able to do this to the best of my ability, save for a few hours of tears and lack of sleep. The thing with these children is that they expand our hearts to depths greater than we ever could have imagined, then the universe gives us different mountains and valleys to travel through that really are out of our control. The only thing we truly have control of is how we are going to react and behave in these situations. That has likely been one of the greatest lessons I’m learning. And I have heard it for years, read it on little quote sheets and all over pinterest and Facebook, but it is a different thing all together to actually live it.
So for now, I am seriously basking in the physical reprieve that her movement has given me. I was in so much pain before, my pelvis ached to the point that walking and rolling in bed was sometimes not possible, my abdomen was sore in a way that we couldn’t figure out, and I just felt very off. Since her realignment, my body feels really great. I feel more in balance, and my pain has gone from a 9 to a 1. I am also just trying to deal with the mess of emotions that this past week has brought me. The releasing of expectations and control.
❤
Her due date is in less than two weeks, and all I can really focus on right now is a healthy, joyful and peaceful birthing experience for her and I. I want to be holding her, healthy. And right now, that’s what matters.
If you’ve actually taken the time to read all of this, thank you. I’ll never doubt the power or prayer and intention again, and have to say a huge thank you to all of those who have been showering us with love and support. It has been so much appreciated. Oh, and never say never! Now…who exactly is this little girl? I am sure excited to meet her.
I’d also just like to express how much I love our midwife, and our team of labour and birth support…really couldn’t have asked for better people and this “trial run” gives me so much confidence for the big day.
My latest pic of her in belly since she has moved.
xoxox A.
Pax on the Island 