Lately, I’ve been thinking about whether or not I will need another C-section for baby #2. I’ve read lots of articles, research, and random blogs about C-sections vs. vaginal births and how some people are able to have a vaginal birth after a C-section (VBAC) while others can’t. It may not make sense, but having a C-section disappointed me very much, and I even feel a little guilt about not being able to have a child the “natural way.”
While doing this research, I have read about women’s birth plans. I didn’t really have a clearly defined plan with Ember Eve’s pregnancy, and I’m not ashamed to admit this. My plan was to trust the doctors and nurses at the hospital to deliver my child safely. I wanted my husband in the room with me, and my family and Rob’s family nearby (but not in the room). I wanted my husband and I to experience it all together, privately. That’s it. I didn’t care to have a home or water birth; I never interviewed a Douala; I didn’t care to consider any of the “new age” stuff that you can read about online. I don’t mean to imply that there’s anything wrong with any of the above…it just wasn’t me. I also thought I was totally fine getting a C-section if needed (in fact, when I was younger, I thought I’d prefer it). I debated getting an epidural and planned to do a bit more research about epidurals before her birth. I also planned to do more research and prepare myself a bit more for the birth and breastfeeding and all that good stuff.
I didn’t expect my water to break at 35 weeks* in the middle of the night while my husband was in Florida**. I thought I had weeks to plan and prepare for what was to come. I woke, startled, and actually said out loud to the two dogs, “Well, I either just peed my pants, or my water broke.” When I got out of bed and started moving around, I knew for certain that it was my water and not a faulty bladder. Anyone who has experienced a major rupture can vouch for the difference between water breaking and peeing your pants. (Side note: it wasn’t nearly as gross as I thought it would be.) I paced around for a bit, and two very nervous dogs followed my every move and kept nuzzling my hands. It was around 2 am, and I was very anxious. I called a friend who was in Hawaii, as I knew it was 8 hours earlier so she might answer. She helped me pack my bag for the hospital and calmed me down. Then I called my parents who said they’d come get me and take me to the hospital.
On the way to the hospital, I sat in the backseat on a large towel (I was still leaking big time) next to my dog, who curled up next to me and put her wet nose on my lap. As we got closer to the hospital, I debated not calling my husband until I knew for sure the baby was coming. He was in Florida for a football tournament with our coed team, and I didn’t want to alarm him or our friends for no reason. My parents told me I was nuts and encouraged me to call him. I called him and got his VM. I called 5 or 6 people before reaching someone who answered (thank you, Mickey!). I will never forget our conversation and how quickly he responded. I could hear him running through their house, stepping on people sleeping on the floor. Thanks to him, my husband was able to get up and get moving.
When we made it to the hospital, my doctor (who was on call, thankfully) confirmed I had a large rupture and that the baby was coming in the near future. At this point, the nurses were quite concerned about my blood pressure, which was really high, especially for me. I kept telling them that once I knew my husband was on his way home, I would be fine. When Rob called to tell me he was at the airport and had a direct flight, I calmed down immediately. Sure enough, my blood pressure stabilized and all was fine. I simply needed talk to him and know that he’d be there soon.
Due to the major water rupture, they induced me. For over 30 hours, they ramped up the induction drugs and slowly my body dilated more and more. During that time, the contractions intensified, and I endured a botched epidural (I’ll save that story for another day). I told my doctor I wanted to avoid a C-section if possible, so over the span of two days, we tried everything possible for a vaginal birth delivery (I’ll spare you the details). I was able to get to 9.5 cm dilated, and they could see Ember’s head, but my interior bones would not allow her through the birthing canal. Finally, Ember’s heart rate began showing signs of distress, so my doc told me we had to go with the C section. About 32 hours had passed at this point (and all I’d eaten was a popsicle, by the way). Ember Eve was born via C-section, and she was healthy and likely full-term, even though it appeared I delivered her at 35 week.
I think about all of this now with baby 2’s approaching due date, and the interesting aspect is I didn’t realize how much I wanted to have a vaginal birth until I couldn’t have one. I always thought if I needed a C-section that I’d be totally fine with it. However, clearly, that wasn’t the case in the actual experience. Avoiding a C-section this time around has little to do with the recovery, which is often why people assume I don’t want one. I recovered beautifully from Ember Eve’s C-section and had zero complications. For me, it wasn’t that painful or even inconvenient (it’s almost like you’re still pregnant and can’t bend or use your stomach muscles). I never took pain pills after leaving the hospital, and my incision healed quickly. Honestly, the recovery was easy.
Women need C-sections for many different reasons. Unfortunately, I needed a C-section because of my anatomy and the size of Ember’s head (she’s in the 98% currently for head circumference). My doctor has indicated that this may be the case for baby 2, and I know he’s probably right. But I can’t help but feel like I missed out on such a unique experience. I want to know what it’s like to actually deliver a baby instead of having a surgeon pull her from me. I want to use my body to push my child out of me and feel the exertion of such a physical experience. Maybe that makes me nuts, but I resent that I needed a C-section, and I feel disappointed and a little guilty that I couldn’t have a child the “natural way” despite trying everything. Like our failed breastfeeding journey, I resent my body for not performing in the way I expected it to.
The following statement may anger some people, but I’m going to say it anyway: I don’t feel like I delivered my child. I’m not saying a C-section is the easy way out, and I don’t mean to upset anyone who has had C-sections. Many of us need C-sections in order to have our children safely, and I’m grateful Ember Eve was delivered with no complications. I’m simply venting about how I feel about my C-section. I feel robbed of a unique female experience that I wanted to endure. (As a side note, I’m grateful I experienced my water breaking because if I do have to have C-sections from here on out, I probably will not experience my water breaking naturally ever again. Though it’s nothing compared to a vaginal birth, still I’m glad I experienced that one small aspect of a traditional birth.)
My doctor isn’t forcing me to schedule a C-section, but he’s implied he’d prefer it in my case. To make matters worse, my doctor is going to be out of the country the week and a half in October when baby 2’s C-section could be scheduled. I figured at least if I had to have a C-section that he would and could do it. That may not be the case (unless this kid comes early, too). So I’m not sure what to do. Do I try to have a VBAC and give it a shot? If so, I won’t wait over 30 hours before having a C-section this time. Or do I assume that my pelvic bones simply won’t allow my kids’ gigantic heads through the birthing canal and schedule the C-section? There are some benefits to scheduling a C-section, but I am not sure they outweigh the benefit of trying one more time.
I suppose I have some research to do and some decisions to make. I hear my C-section baby stirring and waking from her morning nap, so this concludes my long-winded post.
*On paper, I had Ember a day shy of 36 weeks. However, all of the pediatricians who saw her in the hospital and the weeks following her birth, confirmed she was full term. This indicates my due date was off, which doesn’t surprise me. She was more likely born at 37-38 weeks and not 35.
**I saw my doctor the day before my husband’s trip and asked him if he saw any reason that Rob shouldn’t go to Florida. He said that since it was my first pregnancy and I was only 35 weeks, that Rob should absolutely go since most first pregnancies push past 40 weeks. I encouraged Rob to go because I knew it wouldn’t happen again for some time.
(Photo 1: Rob preparing for the C-section; Photos 2 and 3: Post C-section snuggles)
