My first daughter was breech throughout my entire pregnancy and born
via Cesarean section. I was very disappointed but since I was told I had
a misshapen uterus, I resigned myself to have more breech babies using
the same exit route.
It came as no surprise that my second
daughter was also breech all along, as confirmed in many ultrasounds. We
scheduled a C-section for 39 weeks, 1 day. Got the grandparents to
watch my 2-year old (reason for a Rant), went to the Hospital. Got an
IV. Negotiated anesthesia with the nurse and physician, got shaved,
husband got put in scrubs, the whole 9 yards. Then we got bumped off the
OR schedule and in the meantime the midwife was going to repeat the
ultrasound, just to be sure. Well, she couldn't find the baby's head!
She thought it was hiding under my ribs, where it had been for quite a
while causing me great agony. Then we waited around for the OB to come
and try again - half an hour later, he couldn't find the head either. He
did a vaginal exam and said 'Hmm....feels like a head'. So the head of
OB was called in and finally found the head. Down at zero station, right
where it belonged! This moment definitely makes my 'top 5 best moments
of my life' list. My first thought was 'Awesome, I can eat now!'. So we
practically ran out of the hospital and into the nearest Panera Bread.
From
there, we went to the maternity store to buy a belly belt strap thingie
that was supposed to hold the baby in place head down.
The
waiting began. It was awful. I had stopped working, my babysitting
arrangements for my older daughter had to be revised, and somehow I felt
a certain amount of pressure since I knew I had to go into labor before
41 weeks, given that this was an attempt at a VBAC. I knew I could not
be induced with pitocin without risking a rupture of my old scar. I will
spare you a detailed account of the following two weeks. Suffice to say
that I was still very pregnant at 41 weeks, but a non-stress-test and a
biophysical profile told me and the doctors that the baby was doing
great. I had my membranes stripped twice to no avail. That following
weekend I tried Castor Oil twice. On Saturday, I took one dose. It made
me nauseated but I didn't throw up. It brought on nice and regular
contractions but unfortunately they didn't last when I went to bed.
Sunday, I tried with 2 doses. Same story.... contractions but not that
hard. We took a long walk at night to try and speed things up before
going to bed. Nothing. We were scheduled to go to the hospital the next
morning to have my water broken and see if that would work.... this
would also have started the clock to a C-section on Tuesday, over 2 1/2
weeks after my original scheduled date. Very early Monday morning, I
still had light contractions but my C-section scar started to hurt.
After getting in touch with the midwife on call, we went in to the
hospital, got checked in and they checked on my uterus and the baby.
Nothing bad going on, but no labor either. So we slept a little. Early
Monday morning, Emily, my midwife, broke my water.
The walking
began. We walked for a long time, and we walked for a very long time. It
was torture. I was watching all these women in labor and I
wanted
their pain so badly. At some point, the midwive sent my husband home to
get the breast pump. I had used it to try and bring on labor and it did
always bring on contractions. However with the silly hospital protocol I
had to stop using it every time it brought on a contraction, and we had
to monitor the baby. This was never going to work! So we walked some
more. Then we decided to give the Castor Oil another chance, since it
had given me contractions before. Hah! The hospital pharmacy didn't even
have it, so poor Paul had to go out again, this time to CVS. They
wouldn't give me anything but alcohol to drink with it either,
disgustingly.
And then we walked. We walked for a long time, and we walked for a very long time. I got
totally
desperate and eventually the OB asked me how long I wanted to keep it
up for. We agreed that a C-section the next morning was going to be the
plan B. (Or C, depending how you count). Then a nurse had the genius
idea to send us outside to walk. It was cold and dark out, and we talked
about the upcoming elections. And then all of a sudden, I got the first
real contraction. It stopped me in my tracks and I had to hold on to
Paul. By the time we had finished our walk, the contractions were pretty
darn strong and about 5 minutes apart. It was 8 pm at this point.
Inside, the midwife checked me out, and I spent a bunch of time on the
ball, like on the picture here.
The midwife was worried
about my labor slowing down so she encouraged us to walk almost all
night, which we did. At around 3 to 4 am I took a heavenly bath in the
tub. It didn't help with the contractions themselves but in between, I
got some good rest. My contractions never went closer than 4 minutes
apart, which was of concern to the midwife but it was all I could handle
anyway, so I was sort of glad.
We spent the rest of
the night walking or sitting on the ball. Then at around 7 in the
morning, right as the nurses changed shifts, things got dramatic really
quickly. The baby's heartrate wasn't satisfactory to the medical team,
so I was put in bed (Ouch) and given IV fluids as well as oxygen. I was
only dilated to a 6, so quite a ways to go it seemed. Then they made me
lie on my left side, to give the baby maximum blood flow. This gave me
killer pain in my old C-section scar. The contractions alone were pale
in comparison. The medical people didn't think it was a problem, just
likely an adhesion inside the old scar, but that didn't help my pain. I
asked how long I would have to be in this position, and was told it
could be hours. There was a definite possibility that we would have to
opt for a repeat C-section hanging in the air. So I ordered the
anesthesiologist.... while waiting for him, I had to yell at the nurse
to let me go to the bathroom. She asked what I needed to do there (#1 or
#2) and I just yelled 'I don't know, I just need to go!' which really
should have clued me in to something but it didn't. I did some
involontary pushing on the bathroom, but again, didn't get it. Then the
anesthesiologist was there and read me my rights... once the epidural
was finally in, I could still feel the pain in the scar. At this point,
the OB was in and was looking at the heart rate. But before deciding on
our fate, he was going to do one last vaginal exam. And while he was
expected to say 'Let's head for the OR' what he did
say was 'Or we could just push'. Everyone in the room let out a sigh of relief and started laughing.
People
were running aound, getting things ready. The OB slipped out of the
room again, and I started pushing at 8 am with 2 midwives at the foot of
my bed, mostly watching. Paul was taking pictures, which I didn't
realize while being so totally focussed. I won't post those here :-)
At
8:29 am, Eleanor Delilah was born. It was November 4th, 2008 and we
joked that she wasn't going to come out until she knew this country (and
the world) was going to take a turn for the better. I did not have a
single tear or complication, and she latched on right away. She looked
quite a bit different than her sister in those first hours.
At
my 6 weeks postpartum appointment, the midwife told me we were the talk
of the hospital. Due to my stubbornness and determination, we had
avoided surgery, and managed to induce labor using no pitocin at all.
Ellie was born 2 1/2 weeks after her originally scheduled birthday, and
she is the easiest baby that ever was. We definitely think the extra
time inside suited her well!
