Facebook announcement

 

 

 

I'm dreaming of a vbac Christmas

So I obviously didn't start this blog just to write about what's happened already ;-P 

 

I'm currently 13 weeks 1 day pregnant (according to my most recent ultrasound), and expecting our second child in late December/early January - EDD 25 December! What a wonderful Christmas present!

 

It has amazed me just how different this pregnancy has been to my previous one - much more manageable nausea, but it has carried on for much longer (last time I was incapacitated, sitting on the couch trying to keep my insides in one piece but for only 3 weeks, this time its not often worse than uncomfortable but has been around for almost 7 weeks so far with no sign of letting up yet), only one food aversion but many more cravings.

 

And I'm just so much more relaxed this time around. I was so terrified last time that I would miscarry, whereas now I realise that there is nothing I can do to prevent it if its going to happen and although I would be devastated, we would get through it. I'm not reading up on everything that can possibly go wrong. I feel like I'm enjoying it so much more this time! Its so amazing to look at Sophie and know that we have all of that joy and love to look forward to, all over again!

 

This Saturday I go for my first trimester scan. I will be 13 weeks 3 days, and we will let our extended family know and announce on facebook after that. I am a bit nervous - those ultrasounds are always a bit scary, just in case something has gone wrong. But I just cannot wait to see my little bean again!

 

 

Beginnings ... Sophie's birth story

My vbac journey started just over 16 months ago when my daughter was born.

I was overwhelmed with paranoia throughout my pregnancy but especially as the time drew near to delivery, and Dr M (my obstetrician) suggested an induction at 38 weeks. I put it off for a week, too nervous to even tell my husband what she had suggested... I don't think I'd even mentioned how terrified I was that something would go wrong! I'd spent months googling every pregnancy ailment, genetic disease and anything else that could possibly go wrong and between my unfortunate new knowledge and the rush of pregnancy hormones, I couldn't control my imaginings. So when she said I could have my baby safe in my arms within a day, contractions possibly slightly stronger than if I went into labour naturally and my c-section risk only increasing to 35% (from 30%), it all seemed too good to be true.

 

In retrospect, it was. If I'd applied half the time to researching c-section rates (and their correlation to inductions) in South African private hospitals as I had to researching anencephaly and sickle cell anaemia, I would have realised that what she was telling me simply wasn't true. And that my greatest chance of having the natural delivery that I so desperately wanted was to simply ask her what other options there were. As in, could I simply schedule a 5 minute appointment with her twice a week until I went into labour, to ease my fears. Or even as simple as to ask her to check my Bishop score before scheduling the induction, to be confident that it had a chance of success (bearing in mind that I was still a couple of weeks short of the average first time gestation period of 40 weeks plus 8 days).

 

Induction - Day 1

So we went in at 9pm, just a day short of 39 weeks and after a lengthy admission process and numerous battles to get the fetal monitor to work correctly, I finally said goodbye to my husband at around 11pm. A while after that, they came in to administer my 'teabag', which was supposed to begin ripening my cervix.

 

After a night of very little sleep, I woke up with cramps in my legs rather than my uterus, and little change in my cervix beyond a slight softening. I started walking (marching!) the hospital corridors as soon as I woke up, to try and get my contractions going, and managed to get them to the point where I needed to pause for a moment as a new one started, but they never became regular. Later on they moved me to the delivery room, and a midwife gave me a medicine to drink (I asked what it was at the time, but the medicines are the one part of my story that I cannot remember) every hour for 4 hours. The monitor showed that my baby was still doing fine, and my contractions were peaking in the low 90s (apparently they should reach up to about 100). However, for every 'good' contraction, there was another one that was in the 30s or 40s - they never reached any semblance of regularity, and despite their intensity at times I was never in any kind of pain. The Braxton Hicks I had had for the past 4 or 5 weeks felt like they were doing more than these contractions!

 

As the day wore on, the previously upbeat midwives became a bit more somber as each cervical check revealed little to no change. A couple of them came in together around mid-afternoon, to check on me. I was still excitedly waiting for 'real' labour to begin, and quite happy to go run a marathon if thats what it took! However Dr M had said to me that TODAY I would have my baby, because I was now 'on the clock'. So we all knew that she would want to book a theatre slot by early evening at the latest. The midwives reassured me that my baby was strong and had a good heartrate, and encouraged me that if I still felt able, I could ask to continue with the induction tomorrow. So when Dr M came in to check on me, they came in with me and helped me to stand my ground, and she 'allowed' me to try again the following day. I was so desperate to have my normal delivery.

 

Looking back, I am horrified that I put such blind confidence in her! I felt as though I were a schoolgirl and she were allowing me to skip a class!!

 

Induction - Day 2

During the night, a midwife came in to insert my next 'teabag' - no good news, still just a fingertip dilated. So I slept as much as I could and as soon as it was light, I began walking the corridors again. I was determined that today was the day! At 8ish I realised I needed to get back to the maternity ward for breakfast and as I arrived I was met by a nurse, "Where have you been? The doctor's been trying to get hold of you. She's not happy, she's taking you into theatre soon so we need to get you prepped". My world dropped. I can still vividly feel that shock and disappointment, and horror at the thought of what was coming, and I have tears running down my cheek as I type this.

 

I phoned my husband in floods of tears. "They're taking me into theatre and I don't know when but I know its soon. Can you get here soon? I need you!". The poor man had been working late the night before and was woken by my phonecall - and I'm not sure how much sense I was making! But to his credit he arrived there within 20 minutes and my mom was shortly behind. The nurses prepped me and tried to lift my spirits, but I was already in the OR when I realised that, at the very least, my baby was coming today and I needed to cheer up. Despite my sadness, the most exciting event of our lives was about to take place.

 

... and Sophie is here!

The operation itself was unremarkable. The spinal went in fine and worked perfectly and the anaesthetist was a wonderful narrator, telling me what was happening and when Noel needed to get ready to take a photo. It was a little uncomfortable while they were tugging, but that was more the thought of what they were doing than the actual physical sensations. All of a sudden I heard a cry and realised that my baby was there. No big announcements; I had to ask to check whether it (she!) was a boy or girl. It was all quite routine and anticlimactic. Noel went with her as the paediatrician checked, suctioned and swaddled her, and then they brought her to me for a brief moment. I caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of my eye as they held her on my shoulder, all 2.926kg and 47cm of her.

 

It was all very surreal and she really didn't feel like she could possibly be the baby I had been talking and singing to and falling so hopelessly in love with for the last 9 months. She felt totally foreign, as if they had just handed me a stranger's baby. To make matters worse, they then rushed her to the nursery to get cleaned up while I was being stitched up and I was then forgotten in the recovery room for 20 minutes until a maternity ward nurse finally remembered to fetch me. By then it was almost visiting hour and so I was not allowed to see Sophie or begin breastfeeding her. Noel came through to my room to show me a couple of photos, and then went back so that at least one of us could be with her, while my mom sat next to my bed holding my hand, neither of us talking much and both ultra-aware that this momentous event had just happened but I was just so eager to hold and breastfeed my baby, and she was so disappointed that I had yet to hold her properly that we just couldn't find neutral topics to discuss.

 

Eventually visiting hour ended and my tiny newborn was brought to me. She latched with some help (just over 2 hours after birth) and after 5 or 6 difficult weeks (particularly in the first couple of days when she couldn't stay awake for more than a minute or 2) and numerous problems, we are still happily breastfeeding today. 

 

Sophie is now a precious, bright, active, determined, independent, adventurous and very chatty toddler. She has opened my eyes to the true joy of being a mom and my heart now really does live outside my body. I wanted her from before she was conceived and loved her from long before she was born - but nothing could have prepared me for how much I treasure and adore this precious, funny little girl!

 

Postscript: a vbactivist is born

It was while being transferred onto the OR bed/gurney that I remembered reading about vbacs during all my wild pregnant researching, and decided that I would not - could not! - go through this again unless it was actually necessary for my (future) baby's health. I have researched it thoroughly in the past 16 months and my research has made me more convinced that the risks of a c-section are even greater than the risks of a vbac, and that it truly is the safest and best option for myself, my future child/ren and our family.