Coming Full Circle: Healing after a CBAC by Catherine Harper

Thankfully, I was able to breastfeed my son, and that became my saving grace.  Yet while I nursed him, my thoughts often turned to the birth I did not have, and I daydreamed about doing it over again.  I prayed endlessly that my little boy would just be enough for me, reminding myself that, whether I gave birth vaginally or by cesarean, the end result, that sweet baby, would be the same.  But that wasn’t enough, and I just couldn’t fill the endless ache in my heart.  I replayed my birth over and over again in my head, looking for things I should have done differently.  I hated Sundays in those first weeks and months, because that was when I went into labor, and I would literally hold my breath until 7:28 on Tuesday mornings, because that was when my son was born.  I turned my head away driving by the hospital and felt tears prick my eyes when I saw the huge signs of a pregnant woman advertising the new Women’s Center there.  I couldn’t stand to look at my maternity clothes or even put them away, because they reminded me of a happier time, before my c-section changed me.  I was truly mourning the loss of my vaginal birth, and I just had to work through the stages of grief.  My sadness didn’t affect my feelings for my son,and I cared for him easily and found joy in doing so, but inside, my heart was broken.

After finding ICAN, I was comforted by the knowledge and strength of its members, and gave my grief purpose by preparing for a future VBAC.  I’m sure, to those who know and love me, I seemed obsessed, but educating myself gave me something to focus upon in those early months of sadness.  I befriended other cesarean mothers and joined a local mom’s club, swapping birth stories whenever the topic came up.  I was surprised to discover that so many other new moms had experienced similar circumstances, and there seemed to be too many traumatic birth stories in our group.  I left my obstetrician’s practice when she didn’t appear supportive of a VBAC, and began looking for a new doctor.  I attended any VBAC webinar ICAN offered, cheered other moms as they planned their VBACs, and dreamed of the day when I would have mine.

As the months went by, my grief lessened, as people said it would, though I continued to focus on my VBAC plans extensively.  Nine months after my first son was born, I became pregnant with my second child, and though the timing was earlier than originally planned, my husband and I were thrilled.  I should mention that I have scleroderma, a connective tissue disease, and Grave’s disease, an autoimmune disorder that causes hyperthyroidism.  Though both issues are well controlled and don’t impact my daily life, they automatically make me high risk during pregnancy, and because of this, I am not a good candidate for a home birth.

Still hoping for a VBAC, I found a local OB-midwife practice with a great VBAC rate, and though I fought hard to avoid the high-risk label, I did have to see a perinatologist throughout my pregnancy, just as I did during my first.  At my 16-week ultrasound, our baby was found to have several choroid plexus cysts, which by themselves are benign, but coupled with a heart issue, can be indicative of Trisomy 18.  My husband and I spent one anxious month waiting to find out if our second child would be healthy, and during that time, I found a bit of a new perspective, realizing I would gladly give up a chance at a VBAC in an instant to protect my unborn child.  At my 20-week ultrasound, the cysts had disappeared and we learned we were having a second son.

During my second pregnancy, I worked with my doula to prepare for a VBAC, and she suggested also creating a c-section plan and then filing it away in a drawer.  I did this, making a list of all the things I didn’t get to experience with my first cesarean.  Though I knew that my chances of achieving a VBAC were high, I did realize that I might still be faced with a c-section again.  I also knew that I didn’t want to put my baby or myself in any danger, especially because I had a young son waiting for me at home.  I was his mother, first and foremost, and I had to put his needs over my own desires.  I worried about another marathon labor, and how that would impact my ability to care for two babies.  One of my midwives actually eased my mind by reminding me that I could stop at any time, meaning I had the right to ask for a c-section if my labor went on too long, and by saying that, she helped me see that I was in control, something I never felt during my first son’s birth.

Because of my high-risk issues, my medical providers began advocating for a 39-week induction, and my husband and I resisted this idea for weeks and weeks.  Our son was healthy, according to weekly ultrasounds in the third trimester, and I hoped to go into labor naturally, just as I did during my first pregnancy.  Eventually, after much discussion on both sides, we agreed to an induction the day before my due date.  I was already 4 centimeters dilated by that time, so breaking my water was enough to get active labor started.

This time, my labor was completely textbook, short, and beautiful.  I welcomed my contractions, realized when I was in transition, and pushed with all my might in different positions for two hours.  But my son would just not descend, and I could feel this.  When my doctor mentioned that things seemed to be heading in the same direction as before, I agreed with her and realized that I was going to have a CBAC.  I remember telling my husband, “You know what to do,” as he was handed scrubs and I was wheeled to the operating room.  My labor nurse stayed with me as the spinal was placed, reassuring me, as I struggled through contractions, that we were about to have a birthday and, “next year, there will be cake.”

After a few moments, my doctor told my husband to stand up and allowed him to film our son leaving my body, so I got to see it on video later.  As she pulled him out, my doctor called our son by his name, welcoming him into the world.  When he was weighed a few minutes later, my husband announced his weight, and everyone in the operating room broke into cheers and laughter.  My husband stood by my side for a long time, holding our baby in his arms, and though he was not born vaginally, I had tried my hardest, and it was a wonderful experience.  Our little family spent hours cuddling and nursing in recovery, and the nurses gave us the privacy that we so desperately needed. Later, my postpartum nurse, who was also pregnant, told me how sorry she was that I didn’t get my VBAC, and I reassured her that it had been an amazing birth.

I had some complications with my incision that caused more pain than I experienced with my first cesarean, but this time, my heart was light and free.  I had worked extremely hard and fought for the best birth for my baby, however it turned out, and in the end, that was exactly what I got.  I felt that rush of pure joy that mothers are supposed to feel after birth, and I was Earth Mother, tandem nursing my newborn and my toddler.  My precious second son, the icing on the cake and the period at the end of our family’s sentence, was finally here, healthy and happy, and I was healed forever.

Sure, I sometimes get a moment of doubt and wonder if things could have been different, but it’s not that painful ache that lasted for months after my first son’s birth.  I gave away my maternity clothes once I stopped wearing them, shedding only a few tears, and as my baby, who is now 13 months, ages out of his clothing and gear, I joyfully donate things to friends and charities, looking forward to the next stage in his life.  I congratulate my pregnant friends and empathize with their discomforts, all the while knowing that I will never again carry a child inside me.  My baby is a mama’s boy, the complete opposite of  my first son, and I revel in this, realizing that I will never nurse another child after him.  I will never have a vaginal birth, and that is okay, too.  It took me a long time to get to that point, and to be able to say it without tears, but I am there now.  I realize that my experience is simply that, my own, but I hope it can be of some comfort to other CBAC moms.  I am looking forward to life with two active boys, and I have no regrets.

I never imagined, when this journey started, that it would begin and end with a cesarean section, but that’s how it turned out, and I am stronger for it.

A few sources that really helped me process my first c-section and my CBAC include:

ICAN’s White Papers

Ended Beginnings: Healing Childbearing Losses by Claudia Panuthos and Catherine Romeo, 1984

“Having a Cesarean-in-Awareness” by Virginia Bobro and Donna Moore

http://www.birthingfromwithin.com/cesarean