CAM Birth Story #2: My Cesareans

In honor of Cesarean Awareness Month 2010, we will be filling the blogosphere with stories from real women (and their families) who know first-hand the consequences of a 32% cesarean rate. Each day we will post at least one birth story submitted by these women. Prepare to be moved (hint: grab a box of Kleenex)!

From Jackie…

July 20th 1996 was my due date with my first child. I was 21 yrs. old. It was also my wedding day. It was a very small ceremony in our very small church. My Dad was not there, he died suddenly on the first, from a brain aneurysm. This was a very difficult time for my family, and I was scared that I would go into labor early from the stress. That didn’t happen, I was 42 wks when I had my last prenatal, and gladly went to the hospital for my induction afterwards.

A week before my appointment, I did start having contractions. I went into the hospital and had very painful vaginal exams and was told to go home. I was given morphine and sleeping pills. The contractions stopped, but I lost my mucus plug that night, most likely from the rough examinations.

At the hospital, the Dr. shows up four hrs. late and gives me cervidil. I go into labor quickly, and get an epidural. About 12 hrs. later I am complete and told to push. My epidural has worn off, and the pain is immense! I feel no urge to push, but push with all my might anyway, the nurses know better, right? I am in a semi-sitting position with my feet in stirrups, pulling like crazy on the arm rails. Everyone is yelling, “Push Jackie, push!!” and Dave is counting to 10 with each contraction. I want to tell them all to shut up, but I don’t. One nurse gets a sheet and has me pull on it instead of the arm rails. I can’t catch my breath and when a contraction stops, the pain doesn’t go away.

Two hrs. later the Dr. shows up and tries forceps to no avail. “You need a c-section” is all I remember hearing. I look at my husband Dave, and his chin is trembling. I will never forget that look for as long as I live. They could see Julian’s hair…I was about 2+ station when the med pros gave up on me. He was LOA, my pelvis was just too small (that’s what THEY said, not what I BELIEVE!)

They wheel me to the OR and up my epidural. What sweet relief!! Then the Dr. started cutting. “I can feel it!” I exclaim. They don’t seem to believe me. Oh my God, I thought, I’m going to die of shock, I’m going to meet you today Jesus! Then I heard a snapping sound and my baby boy crying. “Where is he?” I ask. “Right there, look!” Dave says pointing. I turn to look and caught a quick, blurry glimpse of Julian, then they put me under. My stay at the hospital wasn’t too bad. I had one nurse who was so nice! I had trouble swallowing pills, so she would crush my pain meds and put them in vanilla ice cream. She would go off duty and the other nurses would give me a hard time about me not being able to swallow them. I developed horrible gas pains…the other nurses complained that the whole floor could hear me moaning. They gave me tea and told me to walk. My abdomen hasn’t been the same since. I still suffer attacks of severe pain with loose bowels. Hey, at least I have a healthy baby, right?

Recovery was fine, though I was confronted with feelings that seemed silly. I mourned the loss of my birth. All my life I was looking so forward to becoming a mommy and giving birth. My c/s was not a birth. It was a surgery. I had some info on the International Cesarean Awareness Network, and was comforted in knowing that I was not alone in my feelings regarding my birth. I wish I would of called them then. I didn’t have a computer at the time to go to their website.

Two and a half yrs. later, in the summer of 1998, I was pregnant again. I was so excited!! I definitely wanted a vbac. I saw a different Dr. and she told me about one of her patients that had a uterine rupture and died right in front of her. I scheduled my repeat after that. I was scared as heck to try a vbac.

February 12th. 1999, my daughter Corinne was born. I was given a spinal this time. It took quite a few attempts for the anesthesiologist to get it in place. The lightening bolts of pain shooting down my legs were excruciating…tears were streaming down my face…the staff laughed gently as I relayed my fear of becoming paralyzed . Then the anesthesiologist realized I was sitting a little crooked. He remarked that an experience like that was humbling. Hmmm, glad I was the one to knock you off your pedestal! The spinal was finally in, but I still could feel too much. They put me under.(ETA 3-17-08: I failed to mention the OB’s response while I cried out in pain. He got frustrated, and I remember him saying sharply, “put her out!!”. That was the last thing I heard.) Another lost birth. I ended up with a hematoma that leaked old, orange blood. I had to wear a panty liner over my incision for almost a month!

I hated my hospital stay. One nurse scowled at me when she changed Corinne’s diaper. I was in so much pain, I couldn’t get out of bed. Dave really had to encourage me to walk around…at the time it made me so mad that he wouldn’t leave me alone. Finally, I was sent home! I had to have my incision cleaned out and clots removed from it a couple weeks later. I had the horrible fear that my incision was going to come open and all of me would be on the floor. My OB reassured me, and held up a clot for me to see. I giggled and said “How gross!” He smiled and seemed glad I appreciated his wry sense of humor…which I certainly did. It set my mind at ease, that everything was going to heal just fine. Before that when I had my staples removed, I asked the OB who did it what would happen if my incision did break open, she replied rudely “It’ll come open!”. As a Christian, maybe I shouldn’t say this, but there are no other words that fit…she was a bitch. Plain and simple. She was the same OB that marched into my room the next morning after the cesarean, and demanded that I lie down, after so much effort trying to sit up to eat my breakfast. So while my breakfast got cold, and my stomach rumbled from the hunger, that witch RIPPED off the tape on my incision with no warning, while the resident OB looked on. They quickly left with no words spoken to me, and I’m left again lying down. Again, I slowly work my way up to a sitting position to eat my cold breakfast. A month after my surgery I can finally join Dave in bed at night instead of sleeping on the couch sitting up. The huge bruise across my belly was finally fading. Seven weeks after Corinne’s birth, Dave had a vasectomy done. He always wanted just two kids. I wanted more, but I thought my body was broken, so I went along with it. My heart was broken as well.

July 2000. Dave and I were having the “I want another baby” discussion for the millionth time. This time though, he shocked me. “OK, I’ll get it reversed.” I started crying, jumping up and down and hugging him. I couldn’t of been happier!! March 12th. 2003, Dave had his vasectomy reversed. May 24th., I had two positive pregnancy tests on the kitchen counter for Dave when he came home from work. I was so happy, tears were falling like crazy, and Corinne says in her adorable 4yr. old voice, “What mommy? Do you have a baby in your tummy?”

I had a lot of work to do. I knew I was screwed out of my vbac with Corinne, the chance of a uterine rupture was less then 1%, but I was never told that!! Ironically enough, I learned that statistic from the TV show, “Birth Day”. That show pisses me off too much now to watch it…anyway, I started doing research on the computer. I joined the ICAN group…There should be no reason why I can’t try for a vba2c, right? I was thrilled to learn that a vaginal birth after multiple cesareans was definitely an option. I found an OB from a “Mother- friendly guide” that endorses the CIMS philosophy. I wasn’t comfortable at the time for a homebirth, which might of been a good thing, if the “problem” I had with my amniotic fluid was true. I’m getting ahead of myself here though…

I liked my OB. She was going to allow me a trial of labor. I had to pick my battles though. I would have to have CFM, an I.V., and she brought up “going past 40wks.” Grrrrrrrrr. 42 wks. is “over due”!! At least she took me seriously when I told her I had 32 day cycles and I ovulated around day 18. She adjusted my due date to Feb. 1st. By LMP it would of been Jan. 29th., so it still didn’t give me much more time. I had an u/s done. It was a boy!! I was so happy, baby Josiah!! At 34 wks I developed a itchy, burning rash on my abdomen and stretch marks. I did some research on my computer and came up with PUPPS. I saw a different OB who disagreed with that diagnoses. I had labs done on my liver and they came out fine. Never got an answer from the OB’s.

Josiah started kicking me really hard around wk. 37. It was so painful, I would cry out and hold my right side, feeling as if his foot was going to go through my uterus! It was so bad I almost scheduled a repeat. But I wanted my vba2c too much. I dealt with the pain as best as I could.

My OB wanted me to schedule an u/s at 41 wks. Big baby talk. I humored her although I don’t believe in such nonsense. I had a NST done at my 41 wk. appointment. It irritated me that the Dr.’s were acting as if I was over due. Liability reasons, I’m sure. I had a VE done. Mistake!! It hurt so bad. I lost my plug the next day. Just like with Julian! I have a VE, the OB messes with my cervix too much!! I was mad that it didn’t come out naturally. I was having sporadic contractions, so I knew my body was getting ready.

My u/s was that same day, I chugged down 24oz. of v-8 splash (oh sooo fun) an hr. before my appointment. The u/s tech said, “Hmmmm, there’s no fluid” “No fluid?!” I exclaimed. “Yea, I see that a lot, really common, it’s anhydramnios”. She was very nonchalant about it. She had the high risk Dr. come in the room to confirm it. They couldn’t find one measurable pocket of fluid! Next thing I know I’m on the phone with one of the OB’s from the office that I didn’t care for (the one who did my VE ). I was in tears and in shock at the same time.

I remember hearing that the baby needs to come out now because of the possibility of cord compression. “I can’t be induced” I say. “I had two c/s.” “Oh, well, you have no choice, come on in to the hospital for a c/s.” She says, with a witchy attitude. I was devastated. But I was terrified even more. I was afraid Josiah would die before I got to the hospital. I never heard of having no fluid, low fluid, yea. I was thinking he might of had kidney or bladder problems, or a chromosomal abnormality, but other than the fluid, Josiah was healthy. We dropped the kids off at my sister’s house, and headed to the hospital.

As soon as we walked up to the L and D nurses station, I started bawling. I couldn’t hold it in. I was being cut for a THIRD time!! Why do I keep getting screwed?! Two hrs. later I finally get my spinal. The anesthesiologist was awesome. He got it right in one try. He was very fast. They started cutting and I could feel it on my right side. They tilted the table to numb up that side better and it worked! It was still horribly uncomfortable though. I ask for nitrous oxide and they obliged, thankfully. Praise Jesus for that stuff!! I wouldn’t of been able to handle the surgery without it, and again would have to be put under. I started to go to sleep and Dave said, “Don’t fall asleep, Josiah is almost here.” He knew how badly I wanted to stay awake for this one. I missed Julian’s and Corinne’s birth. “I see hair!” I heard. Then the most precious sound I ever heard, my baby’s cry! “Let me see him! Let me see him!” I cry out. They held him up briefly, again, all I saw was a blur. It seemed like forever before they handed him to Dave, who immediately brought him close to me. I put my arm around Josiah and kissed him. This was by far the best c/s. I had. Although it still sucked not having my vba2c, I at least held my son as soon as he was born, and I stayed awake for the whole surgery. The nurse anesthesiologist took a beautiful picture of me and Josiah looking into each other’s eye’s, right after he was born. God bless that Woman.

The hospital stay was horrible. They wouldn’t give me any other pain meds except Toradol for the first 24 hrs, which didn’t work that great for me. I also couldn’t sleep, and if I don’t sleep, it really affects me bad…I started hallucinating and getting anxious. Finally I was given different pain meds and a sleeping pill. But it took a good couple days to mentally feel like myself again. The nurses where saying Josiah wasn’t getting enough milk, and kept bugging me to give him a bottle. I never had this problem with my baby crying so much, so I thought maybe they were right. One nurse told my husband to keep Josiah quiet. I yelled at her. UGH!! NEVER again will I give birth in a hospital!!! So I did end up supplementing in the hospital. Nursing wasn’t successful. I did throw away all the darn free samples when we got home, but 4 weeks after his birth, I gave up. My nipples were bright pink and felt like they were on fire. My OB was no help. I wish I would of thought of LLL. My heart aches now that I can’t nurse my baby.

I learned so much after Josiah was born. I read more books. I did more research on the computer. I spoke with women who had a homebirth after three cesareans, because I now feel with all my being, that birth is a normal, miraculous event, and when Dr.’s get involved in it, there is a VERY good chance they will mess it up. This culture is so BRAINWASHED into thinking that your supposed to give birth in a hospital where it is safest. What a joke! It’s sad that I had to go through all of this to see the truth of how messed up childbirth is in this country. It’s absolutely surreal.

I’m still not sure if my third cesarean was necessary. Most likely I had PROM (premature rupture of membranes) and didn’t know it. Maybe that’s why it was hurting so bad when Josiah kicked, my cushion of amniotic fluid was low/gone. I’m still confused on what the difference is of PROM with low or no fluid, and women’s water breaking in labor. Why don’t Dr’s freak out over cord compression with the latter? Was it because I had NO fluid, no measurable pockets on my ultrasound, that made cord compression a real possibility?

I did heal really well after. Physically, that is. My heart still yearns for a normal birth, something that has been robbed of me three times. I now mourn the loss of three births. But I rejoice in the three beautiful blessings that my Lord Jesus Christ has given me. And to Him, I am eternally thankful.

My attempted HBA3C: The birth story of Jadon Elijah

I can’t believe it took me this long to write my story. I started to write this Oct 19th, 2005…..but couldn’t get into all the details. It just hurt so much. My dream of actually giving birth was so close….but, only God knows why….it wasn’t meant to be.

Finally, the raw emotion is gone….the white hot anger….the deep sadness….weight of regret, and the whys are not so strong anymore. I have gone through a lot to get to where I am today. I’m weaning off all of my medications, I had unbelievable love and support from my ICAN sisters. It’s time to tell the story, and leave it behind me. It doesn’t mean that I will never think about it, or that I won’t cry over my shattered dreams. The hard part is over. I’m moving on, and looking forward to my life with my dear husband and four awesome kids.

So, it is spring time. April 20th 2007 to be exact. I love the spring time….gives me such a strong sense of renewal and healing….and hope. Ironically, I’m supposed to be at the ICAN conference right now…but I was sick as a dog. I know weaning off my meds had a lot to do with it. I really wish I was there.

Well, I better get to this story. I remember when the first twinge of pain hit, that signaled to me that it was the beginning of labor. I lost my plug a few days back…which was actually very exciting for me, as you may recall in my three cesareans story, the last two times I lost my plug was because some damn OB had their fingers where they don’t belong. When I lost my plug, I started crying and thanking Jesus. My body was doing what it was meant to do…without “help” from the medpros.

So anyway, the first twinge of pain hit me at the grocery store while shopping with Dave. I was 42 wks (second time to go that long!) and we wanted to stock up, since I knew labor would start any day.

I remember thinking when that very small contraction hit, “Ow! That frickin’ hurt! I thought labor was supposed to come on more slowly!”.

I was so excited about this birth. It would be my 1st time trying for a homebirth. In the beginning of the pregnancy, I emailed at least a half a dozen midwives in my area with basic questions….such as, “Would you attend a homebirth after three cesareans?” “What are your thoughts on a woman having too small of a pelvis and being cut for CPD?” And, “Do you mind if the woman goes to 42 wks?” I narrowed down the midwives from the answers I received and I interviewed two in person and one on the phone with more detailed questions. I choose the midwife who sounded so hands off, and she sounded like she really had faith in the woman’s body to be able to do what it does naturally….BIRTH.

Throughout all my prenatals, there was never a red flag that maybe this wasn’t the midwife for me. She said all the right things. When I asked “What if” questions, her answers always put my mind at ease.

Dave, and I picked up fast food on the way home from the store. I think it was about 20 minutes or so, another contraction hit. I had a feeling this was it.

I emailed my friend who I wanted to be there for my homebirth later on that night, I think about 11:00 pm. I told her I was in labor….it hurt right off the bat….no milder contractions leading up to the more hard ones….it was BAM in your face ow that hurt like a MF’er!!

I don’t remember what I told her, probably that I would let her know when I needed her. I couldn’t get to sleep, the contractions hurt bad when I tried to lay down….there was no way. Again, I don’t remember what I did most of the night…I know I woke up Dave about 4:00 am to get the shower curtain on the bed….I thought it was going to be soon. By dawn, the contractions were about 4 minutes apart, and I started having excruciating back pain with the contractions. We called the midwife about 6:00 am….I remember kneeling by the couch and crying after a contraction….I was saying this hurts…I want this to end!!! I thought I was in transition. Things are a bit fuzzy, but the apprentice midwife came by about 10:00 am and she checked me. I don’t think I was even 2 cm dilated. I wasn’t surprised….just remember thinking…crap….I’ve been working so hard just to be a two??

I knew my baby wasn’t in the prime left occiput anterior position. I palpated my belly so much, and got to know my baby…he (I didn’t know if the baby was a he or she until he was born) was in the right occiput posterior position when labor started. So, that gave me some understanding of what was going on with my labor….I knew he had to do a lot of turning to get LOA.

The majority of the time, Dave, apprentice and I would sit in the living room and chat….between contractions that is. A contraction would hit (about every 3-4 minutes) and I would lift my butt up off the couch, arch my back, and yell, “My back! God!! My back!”. That seem to go on for hours..actually it did. I fell asleep between contractions. The apprentice was over for “support”. She sat in my rocking chair the majority of the time, and half-assed rubbed my back during one contraction. I wanted her to leave….but, I’m just too nice, I guess.

I think my midwife showed up later that afternoon. I labored in the aqua doula which was really nice. I had my computer room all set up for my birth….affirmations on the wall, Christmas lights strung up…candles..screen saver on my computer with pretty scenery pics. It was awesome.

The next thing I remember, about 18 hours or so into my labor, my midwife says I was just a “4”, and my cervix was posterior. She said she wanted to hold it forward so that the baby’s head would apply the right pressure on it to get it to dilate, and hopefully get the cervix up and over the baby’s head. In my misery, I said, “OK”. What follows is the most excruciating pain I have ever felt in my life. She would hold my cervix forward during a contraction…me laying flat on my back. She had me push a few times to get the baby’s head past the cervix….I complied being that I was in labor land, and not thinking clearly…It was next to impossible to push…I couldn’t get on top of the pain in order to do it. My body was not ready to push, but my MW insisted that I do so, other wise my body would not be able to birth this baby.

I think it was about 4 hours in the torture chamber. I screamed bloody murder….my midwife was helping me with her tricks, and I felt like I was going to die from the pain. She suggested that I lie on my right side to get my posterior cervix to move anterior. I tried, and I couldn’t hold that position….my body would thrash uncontrollably from the pain. My midwife laid on me during one contraction to keep me from moving….I screamed into the mattress….I couldn’t escape the pain. I’m still surprised my neighbors didn’t call the cops.

We even tried the cervix pulling on the birth stool. My vaginal opening hurt so bad….I said enough. I’m going to take a bath, just leave me alone. The midwife asked Dave in the hallway, “Is she always this stubborn?”. Dave came into the bathroom, and tried to convince me to let the midwife do what she needs to do….since, my body wasn’t working “normally” and it obviously needed help. I decided to transport to the hospital. First, I had Dave call my friend. He left a message, and I hoped she would get it…she did eventually….and got over to my house about an hour after I transported. What if, what if what if…….

I got out of the tub, and someone got McDonald’s. (nice, healthy snack for a laboring Mama!) It was nice not having anyone bug me about my cervix and how something needs to be done….I sat there and ate my chicken nuggets….and during a contraction, I would lift my butt again and make all kinds of racket. My midwife suggested that she checked me again. She said I was swollen, and that she has to pull the cervix forward or the baby won’t come. She would not let me labor in peace!!!! I have read so many birth stories….the majority of the homebirth stories described how awesome, kind, gentle, and PATIENT their midwives were….even after many hours of labor….I got a midwife that I did not want, and I didn’t know what to do.

So, we went to the hospital. After laboring for approximately 24 hours at home, I had enough. I know I could of have gone on longer, if I had better support….but my husband don’t know jack shit, and he ends up trusting the midwife, instead of me.

I wasn’t ready to give up my VBAC dream yet. I told the hospital staff that I had only one cesarean. I wanted pain meds as soon as possible though. The OB on call checks me and says “That the baby is posterior!”. When she finds out that I was attempting a homebirth, she rudely exclaims, “You had no prenatal care!”. Give me a flipping break. Come in. Piss in a cup, Dip stick in cup. Get weighed. Have blood pressure read. Get naked, have ’em stick their fingers up your vagina, be told that you can’t have a vaginal birth because of xyz….told to take crap prenatal pill…yep….that’s prenatal care. Sadly, that’s the truth. That’s not care. That’s insanity. New acronym that I got from my ICAN support list: OB/GYN = Oh Boy Got You Naked. Ain’t that the truth!!

So anyways, the bitch OB says I can’t have pain meds until I consent to pitocin. Oh my word…I don’t want to delve to deeply into that one… I know what she did was unethical. I prayed in the bathroom. Pitocin with THREE cesareans??? I was so conflicted….I wanted my VBAC bad…but the pitocin scared me….I wanted the pain meds bad….I was sick of having a lightning bolt striking my sacrum!!!! I finally said to myself, I’m not getting an epidural….I will definitely feel it if I rupture….this Dr. would slice and dice me in a minute if I asked her to…so I consented to the pitocin.

I must of labored for about four hours before I was given anything. The Rn’s were so wonderful though, and treated me like any other laboring Mom. One provided a birth ball, and a bean bag to lean over on the bed with , to get my baby to flip to anterior.

I was finally given nubain, and it knocked me on my butt. I couldn’t believe how well it took care of the pain. They ended up stopping the pitocin because it had no effect. I was given another shot of pain meds later on.
In the Morning, I only had a lip of cervix left. Meconium was coming out of me, but baby was fine. The OB wanted to pull my cervix forward during pushes….I ended up peeing on her….ROTFLOL! She said it was good though, I was using the right muscles (roll eyes). I pushed a few times, and got baby to about a +1 station. After 36 hours of labor, and no real sleep, I had a fever, and the OB said it was time for a cesarean. I was in a fog, and tired of fighting. I consented to the surgical extraction of my fourth child.

I was scared to death though. I begged them to please put me under. I couldn’t explain that I had two inadequate anesthesia cesareans before. I don’t know if it’s Michigan anesthesiologists or what…..but I was numbed up OK….still not great….but I got nitrous oxide, even though it makes me paranoid. I guess spinals and epidurals just don’t work that great on me.

I was surprised how fast the OB was getting my baby out. I thought it would take a lot longer for her to get through all the scar tissue….and there was a lot, but she was fast. My baby came out, and the first thing I asked is if it was a boy. It was! He was COVERED in meconium.

I’m ashamed to admit that I allowed (as if they asked permission before they did it) these idiots to intravenously give him antibiotics. My poor baby smelled like a penicillin pill. I started giving him probiotics at 3 months old when he developed severe eczema. I have no doubt that those antibiotics compromised his immune system and caused his eczema to be so bad. Yes, part of it’s genetic, asthma and allergies run in my family, but, I also blame the damn hospital and their protocols.

I guess it’s to be expected that I would have at least one confrontation with a nurse since I wasn’t a sheeple. She said she needed to take Jadon for some tests. I asked, “what tests?” She says, “Oh, just common ones”. “WHAT TESTS?” I ask, raising my voice. Man, did she look pissed. “PKU”, she spat. “OK,….fine you can do that.” I told her. There is really no way to know for sure if they respected my wishes about not giving him the Hep B shot. The only way to be absolutely certain that these people don’t stick unnecessary needles into your baby is to have a homebirth, and that was ripped from me.

I just remembered another confrontation. One RN said I couldn’t have any other pain meds except tylenol…something about the Dr.’s order being expired or something, don’t remember, don’t really care. She was adamant that I couldn’t be sent home with something stronger. My hubby spoke to the head nurse and got the prescription….but my God. I pity the poor soul who takes this bullshit from this idiot nurse. I pity ALL souls who take all the bullshit in the medical field period.

I was sent home. Midwife came by with food and explained her theory as to why I didn’t dilate correctly. She said she thinks there was scar tissue on my uterus preventing the contractions to pull the cervix forward. Although she taught me how a posterior cervix moves forward, and what it looks like using a doll and a sweater….I don’t buy her theory. I have never seen it mentioned in medical literature, and you would think if scarred uteri prevented dilation, that would just be another scare tactic that Dr.’s would use against VBAC mamas. “Oh no!” Says the almighty, omniscient OB, “You can’t have a vaginal birth! It’s too risky! Besides, your scarred belly won’t let you dilate to push the baby out! You silly little patient you!! Your pelvis is small anyway….you want to kill your baby? Just schedule a cesarean, it’s safer for you, and safer for your baby! You can pick the baby’s birthday too! Isn’t that nice? Hmmm? You won’t have to go through all the PAIN of a vaginal birth too…now, get up on this table and lets see how your baby is….spread your legs and open wide!….wow….good thing I checked! You couldn’t push a 1 lb baby through there! What’s your shoe size? Never mind, doesn’t matter…lets schedule the cesarean around 38 weeks….you don’t want to go past 40 wks, your placenta turns to stone after that….you want a healthy baby right? OK, get dressed. You spilled some sugar in your urine, so you are diabetic, your baby would of gotten huge! At least 7 lbs!!!! And your blood pressure is high, so you have preeclampsia…remember NO SALT. Whew, aren’t you glad you are just scheduling? You guys would DIE without my infinite knowledge! Have a good day…come back next week so we can do this all over again, OK? You are such a good patient!”

Ugh. Were was I? Oh, my midwife and her theory. Anyway, I have spoken to my midwife by email quite a few times since. She was certain there were no malpositioning problems. I recently stopped the emails because there was no point. She honestly believed that my long labor was “not normal” and that she wasn’t badgering me about my cervix.

One thing that I found interesting was when I mentioned to her about her calling me stubborn. She apologized, and said she really doesn’t remember that, but perhaps she was frustrated. I asked her, “Why would you be frustrated?” She said she would not answer that one.

It kinda got ugly between us. I really wish things turned out better.

Sigh. I’m sick of writing this. Today is the 22nd ….I have been working on this when I can, but, I’m done for now. I really tried to offer her an olive branch, and tried to get some closure, but, no. It’s all my fault, and if I would of done what I was told, and if I REALLY wanted that VBAC, then I would of buckled down and had my birth.  That hurts.
I might add more to this story. But I’m glad I finally got this down. I can move on.

Jackie, Mom to:
Julian 10 c/s CPD
Corinne 8 c/s ERC for trusting that doc knows best
Josiah 3 c/s Planned VBA2C w/OB. Anhydramnios/dead baby card @ 41 wks
Jadon 1 c/s HBA3C dream shattered. Still trying to pick up the pieces.