abitnervous
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He's here! Theodores Birth Story, 18 May 2015
Ever since I was very small Ive been fascinated by vaginal birth. it still seems fantastic to me that a complete baby comes out of such a small hole, and such a sensitive, private, personal hole. Surely there must have been some mistake somewhere? Surely there should be an easier way? But then on the other hand, what an amazing experience it must be, surely the most dramatic thing that can happen to a woman, and Ive always also felt very lucky to have the option of having children even if I wasnt always sure I wanted to take that option up.
The c section delivery wasn't something I ever considered or really thought of or researched. Im perfectly healthy, so why would I ever need one? The pregnancy was pretty textbook. The midwife led birth centre was booked, Ina May Gaskin and Dick Grantley-Read were read, pain relieving strategies were decided upon (although not practiced), essential oils purchased, playlist compiled, etc etc. I was genuinely excited about the labour and birth.
Theodores plan was different. Despite reassurances from all quarters that he would turn he remained very firmly in the breech position. Nothing could persuade him to move. But still I thought he would Even up to the very last scan on the day of the section, hooked up to the IV and being told I was next up for surgery, I still thought that it wouldn't happen and that hed have somehow come to his senses and obliged us all by just going head down.
So 10.30am on 18 May, my two doctors agree he's definitely frank breech, and invite me to walk with them to the Operating Room. They take an arm each. My hospital gown flaps open at the back. Someone wheels my IV along next to me. Nurses in the corridor watch me walk and smile saying Congratulations and Good Luck. Dr asks me if Im ready to meet my baby. I walk into the room, its very cold, very bright, stark. There are 8 people at least in there, all for me. They are wearing plastic transparent masks over their mouths and plastic booties over their shoes up to their knees. Will there really be that much blood? Will it spurt so much? They smile at me. Ive just realized Im going to give birth by c section. I am suddenly, overwhelming terrified.
Its like Holby City gone wrong! I shouldn't be in here! I don't need an operation! I am so so sorry for my poor baby who will be dragged into this harsh environment with no warning whatsoever, so sad that hes happy in there and has no idea what is about to happen to him. Im so very sorry that when he gets pulled out he wont get to come to me for a cuddle, hell be taken away and given tests and put in a cold crib on his own and that everything will be so utterly alien to him. Im ashamed that Ive allowed this to happen, I havent cared for him properly or ensured his gentle arrival. Im terrified of being cut open, of all the things that could go wrong. I feel unbelievably vulnerable and naked and like Im an experiment, not a woman or even a person, more of a piece of meat on a slab. I feel sickeningly out of control. I start to shake and I start to cry. I cant stop myself.
Dr has me climb up onto the operating table while every fibre of my being is screaming at me to get out of there before they start cutting and its too late. The anesthetist asks me to curve my spine outwards and relax. Dr puts her hands on my shoulders and I grip her arm, first just one hand then both. Everyone can see Im crying and they keep telling me to relax. The needle goes into my spine. Its extremely difficult to keep still. Relax, relax. It feels like hot steel is jolting through all my nerves and the feeling of everything being all wrong increases. My legs and arms jerk out and I kick Dr a few times. Keep still. Relax. Curve your spine. You havent curved your spine enough. Its not in. Relax. You really need to relax.
It takes the guy 4 or 5 goes to get the needle into the correct place in my spine. I resent being told to curve my spine more, Ive got a baby in there and his position high in my abdomen has stopped me curving my spine for the last few months. I get even more scared that the anesthesia wont work and that theyll cut me open before Im numbed. Its a relief when one foot starts to tingle. I repeatedly ask if theyve done it right and if its working. They prick me in various places with a needle to check what I can feel and I exaggerate my sensitivity to make sure they don't start before Im completely numb. I know Im being a baby. They tell me the catheter is in and I don't feel a thing.
The table is in the shape of a cross. They lift my useless legs for me and have me lie down, legs straight, arms outstretched. A curtain goes up near my chest. The lights on the ceiling shine in my eyes. Im aware that Im completely naked below the curtain, for some reason I thought Id at least have pants on. Im cold. I can feel slight pulling and they tell me they've begun.
OH comes in. He looks amusing in his scrubs. Him being there calms me down a bit, at least Im not on my own anymore. He thanks me for taking one for the team. I find this extremely funny as at the moment, as they rummage in my guts and pull my stomach muscles apart I cant imagine a bigger example of taking one for the team. Yeah! I am really am taking one for the team!
Dr tells me Im about to feel a lot of pressure as they are ready to take the baby out. They push down hard on my chest. A lot of pulling. I listen out for a splash of water on the floor as they break my waters. It doesn't happen. They tell me hes out. I feel immediately ten times lighter. I hear a cry. He sounds alright. I ask OH if the baby is alright. Everyone tells me the baby is alright. I feel relieved.
OH leaves my shoulder and goes to see the baby on the other side of the room. The doctors hand him the baby and he brings the baby to my face. Im too shaky to move my hands or arms. I feel sick and the baby distracts me. His face is very soft against mine. He looks pale and strange and Im just happy that there is nothing wrong with him. I kiss him a few times. I wish I wasnt splayed out on an operating table and that I could pay more attention to him and give him a proper cuddle. The truth is Im too concerned about myself to concentrate fully on the baby. Im still scared and aware Im open and there is surgery taking place.
They take Theodore to the nursery and OH stays with me. I keep asking him if Im ok until the operation is finished. They tell me they've finished after about 45m although it feels endless. Im so so glad its over. I never, ever want this to happen to me again.
I think they move me onto a different bed to get me out of the OR. The doctors leave. The nurses tidy up. They wheel me on the new bed out of the room. I can see my blood smeared on the floor.
Theodore is bought to us in the recovery room. I start to relax. I feel high with success. Im so pleased weve all made it. The nurse helps me to breastfeed. I hold the baby amongst all the wires monitoring me for about half an hour. Then the baby has to go to nursery and OH goes with him. I wish OH could stay with me but I dont want to admit how selfish I am and I tell him to go with Theo.
Im in recovery for about 5 hours. This is longer than expected but theres some kind of staff shortage preventing me from being taken to my next room. I dont mind all that much. Im not sure Im up to looking after a baby.
The happiness only really starts once we get shown to our private room at about 4 or 5pm. Its so good to know this is our home for the next 3 days. OH will be able to stay over. Lots of people will be there to look after us. The menu has salmon and steak and raspberry and mango sorbet. The baby is bought in straight away in his little bassinet all nicely wrapped up in a blanket. I am comfortably propped up in an adjustable bed. I have my favourite pillow from home.
Ive only got very happy memories of our stay. I think we were extremely lucky to get those 4 days of help. It was reassuring to have the baby checked every 4 hours and be told he was alright. I had a lot of help with breastfeeding and my milk came in on the last day. We ate, napped, watched TV, watched the baby, and relaxed. The pain was bad but the drugs were good. It was like a honeymoon, but without the sex. Ive never actually had a honeymoon but the 3 of us were in our own little carefree bubble, shut away from the world, getting to know each other. And I fell in love with OH over and over again watching him hold our tiny baby, change dirty diapers and having him bring me everything I needed.
Ive been a bit surprised by my emotional reaction to the section. It was a perfect section I think. No complications at all. The scar is not too big and the bleeding stopped within a week. But I still feel like I am mourning the delivery. I know that this was the best thing for our Theodore, and he certainly benefitted from that hospital stay, and he was ready to come out, hes strong and happy and relaxed. But I waver between feeling proud of my body for dealing with this and healing so well, and ashamed and upset that I couldn't birth him properly. That he had to be rudely cut from me as though he were a parasite or a tumor. Like I failed him, OH and myself in some way. Like I cheated. Like Im lazy, or a wimp, and not a proper mother. Like I moved to New York and got a c section. Like Im Britney Spears.
I know this is all unfounded. I am happy we have a healthy baby. I love our family. I still hope one day I can have a vaginal birth. Not for a little while yet tho.
Ever since I was very small Ive been fascinated by vaginal birth. it still seems fantastic to me that a complete baby comes out of such a small hole, and such a sensitive, private, personal hole. Surely there must have been some mistake somewhere? Surely there should be an easier way? But then on the other hand, what an amazing experience it must be, surely the most dramatic thing that can happen to a woman, and Ive always also felt very lucky to have the option of having children even if I wasnt always sure I wanted to take that option up.
The c section delivery wasn't something I ever considered or really thought of or researched. Im perfectly healthy, so why would I ever need one? The pregnancy was pretty textbook. The midwife led birth centre was booked, Ina May Gaskin and Dick Grantley-Read were read, pain relieving strategies were decided upon (although not practiced), essential oils purchased, playlist compiled, etc etc. I was genuinely excited about the labour and birth.
Theodores plan was different. Despite reassurances from all quarters that he would turn he remained very firmly in the breech position. Nothing could persuade him to move. But still I thought he would Even up to the very last scan on the day of the section, hooked up to the IV and being told I was next up for surgery, I still thought that it wouldn't happen and that hed have somehow come to his senses and obliged us all by just going head down.
So 10.30am on 18 May, my two doctors agree he's definitely frank breech, and invite me to walk with them to the Operating Room. They take an arm each. My hospital gown flaps open at the back. Someone wheels my IV along next to me. Nurses in the corridor watch me walk and smile saying Congratulations and Good Luck. Dr asks me if Im ready to meet my baby. I walk into the room, its very cold, very bright, stark. There are 8 people at least in there, all for me. They are wearing plastic transparent masks over their mouths and plastic booties over their shoes up to their knees. Will there really be that much blood? Will it spurt so much? They smile at me. Ive just realized Im going to give birth by c section. I am suddenly, overwhelming terrified.
Its like Holby City gone wrong! I shouldn't be in here! I don't need an operation! I am so so sorry for my poor baby who will be dragged into this harsh environment with no warning whatsoever, so sad that hes happy in there and has no idea what is about to happen to him. Im so very sorry that when he gets pulled out he wont get to come to me for a cuddle, hell be taken away and given tests and put in a cold crib on his own and that everything will be so utterly alien to him. Im ashamed that Ive allowed this to happen, I havent cared for him properly or ensured his gentle arrival. Im terrified of being cut open, of all the things that could go wrong. I feel unbelievably vulnerable and naked and like Im an experiment, not a woman or even a person, more of a piece of meat on a slab. I feel sickeningly out of control. I start to shake and I start to cry. I cant stop myself.
Dr has me climb up onto the operating table while every fibre of my being is screaming at me to get out of there before they start cutting and its too late. The anesthetist asks me to curve my spine outwards and relax. Dr puts her hands on my shoulders and I grip her arm, first just one hand then both. Everyone can see Im crying and they keep telling me to relax. The needle goes into my spine. Its extremely difficult to keep still. Relax, relax. It feels like hot steel is jolting through all my nerves and the feeling of everything being all wrong increases. My legs and arms jerk out and I kick Dr a few times. Keep still. Relax. Curve your spine. You havent curved your spine enough. Its not in. Relax. You really need to relax.
It takes the guy 4 or 5 goes to get the needle into the correct place in my spine. I resent being told to curve my spine more, Ive got a baby in there and his position high in my abdomen has stopped me curving my spine for the last few months. I get even more scared that the anesthesia wont work and that theyll cut me open before Im numbed. Its a relief when one foot starts to tingle. I repeatedly ask if theyve done it right and if its working. They prick me in various places with a needle to check what I can feel and I exaggerate my sensitivity to make sure they don't start before Im completely numb. I know Im being a baby. They tell me the catheter is in and I don't feel a thing.
The table is in the shape of a cross. They lift my useless legs for me and have me lie down, legs straight, arms outstretched. A curtain goes up near my chest. The lights on the ceiling shine in my eyes. Im aware that Im completely naked below the curtain, for some reason I thought Id at least have pants on. Im cold. I can feel slight pulling and they tell me they've begun.
OH comes in. He looks amusing in his scrubs. Him being there calms me down a bit, at least Im not on my own anymore. He thanks me for taking one for the team. I find this extremely funny as at the moment, as they rummage in my guts and pull my stomach muscles apart I cant imagine a bigger example of taking one for the team. Yeah! I am really am taking one for the team!
Dr tells me Im about to feel a lot of pressure as they are ready to take the baby out. They push down hard on my chest. A lot of pulling. I listen out for a splash of water on the floor as they break my waters. It doesn't happen. They tell me hes out. I feel immediately ten times lighter. I hear a cry. He sounds alright. I ask OH if the baby is alright. Everyone tells me the baby is alright. I feel relieved.
OH leaves my shoulder and goes to see the baby on the other side of the room. The doctors hand him the baby and he brings the baby to my face. Im too shaky to move my hands or arms. I feel sick and the baby distracts me. His face is very soft against mine. He looks pale and strange and Im just happy that there is nothing wrong with him. I kiss him a few times. I wish I wasnt splayed out on an operating table and that I could pay more attention to him and give him a proper cuddle. The truth is Im too concerned about myself to concentrate fully on the baby. Im still scared and aware Im open and there is surgery taking place.
They take Theodore to the nursery and OH stays with me. I keep asking him if Im ok until the operation is finished. They tell me they've finished after about 45m although it feels endless. Im so so glad its over. I never, ever want this to happen to me again.
I think they move me onto a different bed to get me out of the OR. The doctors leave. The nurses tidy up. They wheel me on the new bed out of the room. I can see my blood smeared on the floor.
Theodore is bought to us in the recovery room. I start to relax. I feel high with success. Im so pleased weve all made it. The nurse helps me to breastfeed. I hold the baby amongst all the wires monitoring me for about half an hour. Then the baby has to go to nursery and OH goes with him. I wish OH could stay with me but I dont want to admit how selfish I am and I tell him to go with Theo.
Im in recovery for about 5 hours. This is longer than expected but theres some kind of staff shortage preventing me from being taken to my next room. I dont mind all that much. Im not sure Im up to looking after a baby.
The happiness only really starts once we get shown to our private room at about 4 or 5pm. Its so good to know this is our home for the next 3 days. OH will be able to stay over. Lots of people will be there to look after us. The menu has salmon and steak and raspberry and mango sorbet. The baby is bought in straight away in his little bassinet all nicely wrapped up in a blanket. I am comfortably propped up in an adjustable bed. I have my favourite pillow from home.
Ive only got very happy memories of our stay. I think we were extremely lucky to get those 4 days of help. It was reassuring to have the baby checked every 4 hours and be told he was alright. I had a lot of help with breastfeeding and my milk came in on the last day. We ate, napped, watched TV, watched the baby, and relaxed. The pain was bad but the drugs were good. It was like a honeymoon, but without the sex. Ive never actually had a honeymoon but the 3 of us were in our own little carefree bubble, shut away from the world, getting to know each other. And I fell in love with OH over and over again watching him hold our tiny baby, change dirty diapers and having him bring me everything I needed.
Ive been a bit surprised by my emotional reaction to the section. It was a perfect section I think. No complications at all. The scar is not too big and the bleeding stopped within a week. But I still feel like I am mourning the delivery. I know that this was the best thing for our Theodore, and he certainly benefitted from that hospital stay, and he was ready to come out, hes strong and happy and relaxed. But I waver between feeling proud of my body for dealing with this and healing so well, and ashamed and upset that I couldn't birth him properly. That he had to be rudely cut from me as though he were a parasite or a tumor. Like I failed him, OH and myself in some way. Like I cheated. Like Im lazy, or a wimp, and not a proper mother. Like I moved to New York and got a c section. Like Im Britney Spears.
I know this is all unfounded. I am happy we have a healthy baby. I love our family. I still hope one day I can have a vaginal birth. Not for a little while yet tho.
