Life After A C-Section or Two
With my oldest son, I was pregnant at 31 and newly married. For being a little older first time mom I was blessed with a nearly picture perfect pregnancy. Right up until the last week, when I gained almost 24 pounds and my blood pressure shot up. My doctor was a bit concerned because she said he looked like he was going to be a big baby and to quote her, I had the “smallest pelvic structure” she had ever seen. It was agreed that Friday afternoon if I hadn’t gone into labor by my due date Sunday that she was inducing Monday morning because of the blood pressure and weight. Well, true to the person he has become, K was in no great hurry to make his arrival, and we went in Monday morning for the induction. Pitocin drips, having the doctor break my water, and seeming to make very little progress on my own. By about noon, I was all the way to a big old 4 cm dilated and seemed to be going nowhere but the contractions were getting painful and the crate of entertainment I had brought with me was no longer doing its job. And my usually hysterically funny husband was not. About 1 PM the nurse said I couldn’t have the epidural until I got to a 6 so she gave me some lidocaine for the pain and I slept fitfully for a couple of hours. Around 3:30 they decided I was close enough to a 6 to be able to call for the epidural and began that process. The anesthesiologist finally showed up shortly after 5, which was fine, because even with all the contractions, and the Pitocin, we were still just at a 6.
After getting the epidural, I was blissfully numb and went back to playing my movies and chatting with my sister and a friend of ours. Chris and my parents were back and forth between my room and the waiting room. Then things begin to go crazy. My epidural machine broke. Instead of it steadily shooting a little bit of the medicine, it did nothing. To make matters worse after getting the epi, the doctor had decided to increase the Pitocin to try and move things along. We had now been in the hospital fourteen hours and in labor actively after they broke my water for over twelve. I was exhausted, starving, cranky, and now feeling every contraction from the tips of my toes to the ends of every strand of hair on my head. The called for the anesthesiologist to come back, about 7 pm, but he didn’t get back up there until almost nine. I had finally progressed though and was now at about a 9 so the doctor did not want to fix the epidural. Somewhere around 10 we began pushing, and at first he seemed to be moving, but it was not going anywhere fast enough to suit my doctor. After what seemed like forever she told me around 11:45 that if he weren’t born in the next half hour we were going to have to look at an emergency c section. By that point I wouldn’t have cared if she had told me she was going to cut him out right there, I would have handed her a knife. I had my sister go get Chris and make him come back to the room, because I had no strength left and needed to draw off his. He finally began to crown at 12:15. He was born at 12:43. His head was a whopping 14 and 7/8 and he weighed in at 9 lbs 9 oz. He was by far the biggest baby in the nursery for the whole hour they took him down there. I wound up with 48 stitches inside and out, and felt like I had been run over by a train. My recovery from his birth took the full 6 weeks, it took almost two weeks for me to be able to walk without a limp and even longer to be able to carry him by myself. I was getting back to myself, and lost all my baby weight during that six weeks as well. Finally feeling normal, I began to settle into motherhood and went in for my check up planning to get an IUD. Instead we found out I was pregnant again and in total shock.
My second pregnancy progressed easily, and I had no worries about anything out of the ordinary with it. At my 36 week appointment, the doctor noted that I was already dilated to between a 3 and a 4 and that we could go into labor anytime. My mom came over to stay and help with K since I wasn’t supposed to lift him anymore and she wound up taking him with her to the lake. That was Tuesday afternoon. Thursday, I began having major contractions lasting about a minute and about 5-6 minutes apart. I called the doctors hotline, and was told to come in to the hospital. I got a friend to drive me since Chris was stuck in Wisconsin. We got to the hospital and the young resident on duty had very little in the way of a bedside manner and decided that I wasn’t in labor. I progressed from a 5 to a 6 in the three hours we were there, but he was positive that I didn’t know what I was talking about and just because I had had a baby before I was jumping to conclusions. He also did some kind of test and told me that I had an STD and it was mimicking the signs of labor. I absolutely freaked out, knowing there was no way I had what he said, and my husband was ready to climb through the phone to get to him for upsetting me so badly. The resident sent me home even though I lived an hour away and contractions were getting stronger. After getting home, I called back to the hotline and the doctor on duty told me to go back to the hospital and insist on staying until the supervising doctor came on duty at 8 am. We went back and the nurses were quick to come in and let me know that the resident had misread the test and I absolutely had no STD. That did ease my mind, but when he came in again I refused to let him check me. It was now almost seven in the morning, and my entire family had arrived for back up. The supervisor came on duty at 8 and she checked me. I was still at a 6 and contractions had slowed a lot, so she told us to go ahead and stay in Tulsa, but to go walk around the mall et cetera to try and get the contractions started again. She said being so close in the city that that would be more comfortable than being in the hospital, and it might help things progress faster.
Having been up all night, we decided to get a hotel room and get some sleep first, because it seemed sure if things got going we wouldn’t be able to sleep that night either. About three that afternoon, we woke up and went to the mall to walk around. After a few hours of that, contractions were again at about 5 minutes apart, and we checked in at the hospital. My doctor finally came on duty and when he checked me, you could tell he was a little bit freaked out. I was between a 7 and an 8, but he wasn’t feeling the baby’s head. He asked the nurse for an ultrasound. She informed him that that wasn’t possible with out me being fully admitted and sent to the delivery floor. He told her she better get me admitted then. They sent us up to the labor and delivery floor and did the ultrasound. Contractions were about 3 minutes apart and fairly strong, but not painful. The ultrasound however showed that he was breech. My doctor and his supervisor came in to talk to me. They explained all the dangers of the c-section, and also the issues of trying to deliver breech. It was decided that they would stop the contractions and then prep me for the section immediately. It took about an hour and a half to stop the contractions and get everything in place. We went in for the section and he was born at 3:29 am. He was 4 weeks early and weighed 8 pounds and half an ounce, but they wouldn’t let me see him. They sent me through recovery and afterwards when they wheeled me by the nursery they were doing x rays on T’s leg. They said it was nothing, but I was nearly hysterical by this point and they were not talking to me. I asked about 7 to see him again, and was again told no. They gave me more pain meds, and I slept a few more hours. At 10 am I woke and again asked to see him. The nurses kept hemming and hawing and putting me off. At noon, my sister told them if they did not have my doctor come in to tell me what was going on and have that baby in my room within the hour that she was going to call her friend who was a reporter at a local television station, and a friend of mine who was a state trooper if she had to and we would get something done. About half an hour later, my doctor came in and explained that his left hip had been stuck in the top of the birth canal and that it didn’t seem to have damaged it, but that his reflexes seemed slow and that they had been doing tests and that was why they hadn’t let me see him. Finally nearly twelve hours after he was born they brought him in. He was beautiful, but after taking care of monster baby K, I was terrified I was going to break him because he was so tiny.
I was able to walk that afternoon, and though my stomach hurt similar to how you feel after doing a thousand crunches, I felt much better than after delivering K. Having two babies less than a year apart, led me into what I called my zombie phase and I spent the next three years getting very little sleep and taking care of the boys. We talked about the possibility of another baby, but had just about decided that we were pretty happy with the way things were with just the two of them. We got through potty training and got both of them into school full time. The boys were now 4 and 5. We were pretty comfortable with our little family and in no way prepared for the news that was coming our way. In late May while having a conversation with a friend of mine about periods and cramps and all those great things, I came to the realization that I didn’t remember having one since before spring break. It turned out, I hadn’t. I was 3 months pregnant and due the week after Christmas.
We had moved after the boys were born and so had to choose a different hospital and doctor to work with. I found a doctor and liked the hospital he was affiliated with and off we went. Other than now being 37, I wasn’t too concerned about the pregnancy since the others had been so easy. Morning sickness was never an issue for me, and I generally lose weight through most of the pregnancy. This time wasn’t much different until about the 7th month. Then I began putting on weight and my blood pressure began fluctuating wildly. It was also about this point that I slipped on something and fell in my kitchen floor nearly doing the splits…sideways. I pulled a groin muscle and limped the majority of the rest of the pregnancy. We knew early on that hospitals in our area didn’t allow VBAC’s and with my previous birth experiences, I have to admit that that did not bother me. I know it bothered my doctor and he would have strongly encouraged VBAC if it were available, so I was pretty thankful it wasn’t an option. At 34 weeks my blood pressure went up and stayed up and the doctor put me on pretty restrictive rest. The doctor scheduled my section for Dec 29th, which would be exactly 39 weeks. I, however, was campaigning big time to get him to schedule it earlier, for fear that I would wind up having to go in on an emergency basis on Christmas day. At 37 weeks, I went in and when checked I was dilated to a 4 and the nurse heard me tell him again that T had been born at 36 weeks. I begged him to reconsider and schedule the birth before Christmas and she brought my file in to him. After looking at everything and looking at the fact that I was so dilated, he agreed and moved the section schedule up to December 23 at 1 p,m.
My husband got home from Ohio that Friday night and Sunday morning at 4 am my water broke. We called the hospital and my parents and headed out. My dad met us to pick up our oldest and we went on to the hospital. Going in knowing you are going to have a section is much more comforting than having it sprung on you in an emergency situation. We arrived at the hospital and they checked me and hooked up the monitors. After determining that for sure my water had broken, they prepped me for the section and off we went. I was awake for the entire procedure this time, numbed with a spinal block and even joked with the doctor that after he did the section and tied my tubes that he could feel free to suck some of the extra fat out of there, I wouldn’t mind a bit. It was very relaxed and a totally different vibe than before. He was born at 7:37 am. They whisked him to the nursery and me to recovery. By 9 am we were both back in my room. Chris came in and begin telling me about watching S in the nursery, that most of the other babies were restless and crying but that S was laying there under the lamp spread eagled showing it all off and grinning. I was a bit out of it and told him the only thing I was worried about was that when I saw the baby he was bald. Chris started laughing and asked if I had looked closely at him…since he was sleeping so soundly I hadn’t wanted to move him much. He did have plenty of hair and weighed in at 9 pounds 3 ounces. This hospital was much more relaxed and he was allowed to stay in my room the entire time. I didn’t have to take many of the pain pills this time and was walking the afternoon he was born. We were released from the hospital fairly early Christmas eve and got home about noon. I felt so good after having him, since that muscle was able to heal finally. We had Christmas dinner for my family at our house Christmas day. S. was completely different from the first two boys in that he slept. And it was like a drug, every person who held him more than a few minutes also fell asleep. He was 10 days old on New Year’s Eve and we spent the entire night staring at him, because it was the first night he stayed awake more than 30 minutes at a time. We sounded like goofy first time parents, look honey he opened his eyes….oooh look he smiled. It was hysterical.
Having a repeat c-section was the best option for me. I recovered from it so quickly after having had the first one, and much better than the recovery after my vaginal birth. There are always plusses and negatives to any birth and you have to be aware that what is right for one person is not always right for another. It is not a one size fits all experience. I am thankful that I got to experience K’s birth the way it occurred, and very blessed that my doctor was on the ball and T’s birth was not horrible. And for the surprise that he was, S has rounded out our family perfectly.
Thank you for allowing me to share my experiences with you.
