After learning about and practicing birthing techniques for an unmedicated birth, we discovered that our baby-to-be was breech and began contemplating a C-section. We tried everything under the sun to turn her (we have great photos of me 8 months pregnant and upside down on an ironing board balanced against our living room couch, with frozen peas just under my ribs and music playing at the bottom of my belly). Finally we got an assessment about the advisability of an external version (manual rotation). The verdict was that it would probably not be successful in my case and would be a risky procedure. (It also seemed highly unlikely that Ellie would turn on her own, even at the last minute, which often does happen.) So, we resigned ourselves to a C-section. For us, the pregnancy had been complicated enough that we did not want to try for a vaginal breech birth.
I was disappointed, and I’ll also admit that I experienced some relief (no birthing pain!)
Next was the saga about whether or not to schedule a C at 39 weeks or simply wait until I was in labor and then go in for a C (A C-section at 39 weeks is typical. I was unlikely to go into labor before then, as this birth was my first). My OBGYN (to whom I switched after working with a midwife) strongly advised scheduling a C, though he could understand why I would want to experience labor (I wanted to make sure the time was right for birth, and I wanted to have a “natural” experience as part of the birth process). He pointed out that although C-sections are done at the last minute all the time, if I waited until labor the C could be at, say, 3am, and the surgical team would therefore be less “fresh” than they would be for a scheduled C at 8am. Reluctantly, I succumbed to a full medicalization of my birth (accommodating Dr. scheduling convenience etc), figuring it was wise that the person delivering my baby be very comfortable (considering that it was to be major surgery!). Eventually, I felt good about this choice, as it allowed me to meet and interview the anesthesiologist and fully discuss medication options etc. I created a birth plan for the “best possible C” as well. (I would fully respect a person’s decision to wait until they experienced some labor, even if they knew the baby-to-be had little or no chance of turning… but in the end, a scheduled C was right for me.) It was good to know that two different doctors judged that Ellie would be fully ready to be born at 39 weeks, based on assessments of the age of the placenta via ultrasound.
The anesthesiologist was not comfortable with having my doula as well as my partner present for the birth. This was a disappointment, but oh well. (I decided to continue working with my doula, who was very helpful in the hours right after birth. We agreed she’d stick around a while longer afterwards than she would have for a vaginal birth).
The morning of the birth, I went to the nursing station and gave them my name, and they said, “here for surgery”? So weird! For “surgery” -- not “for a birth”! It was also very weird to not be feeling anything new (labor).
Overall, we were very excited and nervous, of course.
Everyone on staff introduced themselves to me, told me their roles, and made it clear they’d looked at our birth plan and its details (no eye ointment e.g.). This was very reassuring.
The room for delivery was blindingly bright, and very orderly. The spinal was practically painless, and soon I was on the table getting prepped. My partner was there with me the whole time.
I was nervous that I still had feeling in my body, but it was clear that I didn’t. Soon, I felt very lightheaded (the anesthesiologist told me this was from a low pulse), but this passed quickly. I had been very concerned about the prospect of vomiting during the C, and the anesthesiologist told me later that if I would have thrown up during surgery (which I didn’t) it would have been when I felt the effects of a low pulse.
The surgery to “extract” Ellie lasted all of 7 minutes!! I was of course flat on my back and could see nothing; my partner was watching it all (he wasn’t sure how he’d feel about this, but it turned out to be fine for him). I was narrating my feelings, and at one point, I said mildly, “oh, I feel a little tugging now.” My partner told me later that what I was feeling was a couple of shoehorn-like instruments hauling HARD on my stomach muscles to spread them aside! (muscle tissue is not cut for a C; rather, it is spread out of the way). After a short time, I experienced the most intense part of the birth: it seemed everyone was holding their breath, and soon I could hear Ellie crying!!!!
I was desperate to see her – I was practically shaking with frustration and desire about this. EVERYONE ELSE in the room could see her at the moment of birth, and I couldn’t! This was the best and the worst part: it was so exciting, and also my preferred birth plan option was to have the surgical drape lowered at the moment of birth so I could see. But this did not happen. My partner did try to accommodate my plan by attempting to lower the drape, only to be told off by the anesthesiologist for having a finger on the “blue” (sterilized) side of the operating “theater.” I had opted against a mirror because I thought I couldn’t handle seeing myself cut open. After having seen all the pictures, though, (a nurse took great photos of everything), I know it was all, amazingly, very “clean” looking and I do wish I had chosen a mirror, in retrospect. My OBGYN did hold her up high very briefly after she was born, but this gesture was perfunctory and very quick, and I couldn’t really see her well. AND, I was so utterly thrilled that she was born and apparently OK!
Ellie immediately was taken to the warmer and my partner went with her. It felt like I was countering my passive position to ask, after a few minutes, “what are her apgar scores?” I know these don’t really measure much unless the scores are quite low, but still, it’s a special memory that a nurse, looking a little surprised and thoughtful, said (a bit disbelievingly): “Well… I gave her a 9 and a 10!” The anesthesiologist said, “Wow, you don’t hear that very often!” – which I knew to be true (you don’t).
Soon, my partner brought her to me so I could see and touch her.
That was amazing. But again it felt not entirely “fair” for me to be almost the last one in the room to do so!
We were soon whisked out to the recovery area where my doula met us excitedly. The first breastfeeding is a fog. But I know it was good – in fact crucial – to have my doula there, because the postpartum nurse had no idea! She was showing me how to pinch my nipple to get Ellie to grasp it, and it was all wrong (no room around the areola for Ellie to grasp). My two clearest memories of this time are my doula’s excitement (lovely), and a nurse holding a tightly-pinched nipple of mine close to my face! When I see the pictures of Ellie’s first nursings (within 45 minutes of birth!), I know my doula won out.
In the end, my partner and I used our birthing techniques to help me through learning to breastfeed (this was painful for a while).
All in all it was a great, if very medicalized, experience. For what it was, I could not have asked for a better experience – except perhaps more clarity from the surgery team about the possibilities of seeing Ellie at the moment of birth. That moment remains the most vexing and the most thrilling for me.
Submitted by Helen
No comments:
Post a Comment