After two days of cramping, my water broke at 6:45 am on Sunday, June 27, 2010. I called the Dr and was sent to L&D. We arrived at 9:00 am and were monitored in triage for about an hour and half. Although my contractions were strong by then, my uterus was deemed “unorganized” but they decided to admit me to the unit because of my elevated blood pressure and a bit of dehydration. We had trouble monitoring the baby from the outside and while I tried to hydrate orally I just wasn’t getting enough so we decided to get some IV fluids in me. They stuck me 5 times before calling the anesthesiologist to install the IV, ultimately in my inner wrist (ack! It later came out and I had to be stuck 6 more times in the middle of the night to find a new vein, I looked like a complete junkie by the time I left the hospital).
I labored using hypnotic birth techniques for the next twelve hours. I spent some time in the Jacuzzi tub, but eventually asked for some pain assistance. I had no idea I had been laboring so long, but I knew my limits and was about to reach my pain/panic threshold-it was becoming very difficult to stay focused through the pain because the back labor was so strong. I took one dose of fentanyl and was feeling great for about 45 minutes. By then I knew that I wanted the epidural. I was so proud to later learn that I did go 12 full hours unmedicated and was able to experience that part of labor. I was scared of the epidural but knew it was the best thing. I had full confidence in the anesthesiologist (the same who installed my IV) and was able to get in a comfortable and optimal position for him to quickly install the epidural, again the hypnotic birth training helping with my uneasiness with the procedure.
I was so relieved when they turned on the medicine! I knew then that my chances of needing pitocin after that were amplified I was only 5/6 cent dilated but 90% effaced, but I figured I’d cross that bridge when I got there. We had had trouble monitoring the baby externally all day and we had to install the internal monitoring in the evening. I was upset that there was a screw in my baby’s head, but I knew it was best to know what was going on. Her heartbeat was excellent the entire labor, but she wasn’t having the expected accelerations and decelerations during surges. I labored through the night and was able to nap, listening to Harry Potter audiobooks to relax.
I went through two more nurse shifts throughout the night and was seen by a midwife while the OB on call was attending some more complicated births at another hospital. The midwife was able to tell that my cervix was dilating unevenly-my cervix is “tilted” so one side was dilating more than the other. She also told us that the baby had a lot of hair! That definitely got me through the rest night with a lot of motivation. We tried several labor positions (which was so hard to move around with my legs completely numb, but I am so glad I worked out my entire pregnancy, I impressed the nurses and myself with my ability to move myself with my upper body strength), ending up on my side with my husband gently rocking my hip to encourage the slow side of the cervix to ripen.
As we hit the 24 hour mark since the water had broke, I had an ultrasound to estimate the baby’s size; they thought she was about 7 lbs. We talked C section possibility around 12:15 pm, but after the next check I was fully dilated and 100% effaced. I pushed for 4 hours with little progress, even though I was able to squat once they turned off the epidural. The anesthesiologist had a shift change and I was flattered and encouraged that my original one came by to visit me before he left to tell me what a great job I was doing and that I was a “model patient.”
After 4 hours passed, a specialist was called in. He roughed me up a little while checking the babies position, which was ROA but slightly transverse due to my tilted cervix. He recommended a C section and when my Dr came back it was time to go. I was exhausted and started shaking uncontrollably. They told me this was normal but it freaked me out. They gave me a drug to drink, I don’t remember what it was for, but it came back up and I dry heaved for a bit while my mom and Eric changed into scrubs. Then I was rushed to OR and prepped for surgery. Everything was going by so fast, but the anesthesiologist was very nice and explained everything that I was going to feel. Eric and my mom were allowed to come in and they started the surgery.
The surgery is really a blur until the baby was born and even then I felt disconnected and numb. The nurses expounded that she was still a girl, and big girl at that, 9 lbs 11 oz. The baby was crying and a purply red color and I could only catch glimpses of her while they worked on her under the heat lamps. I saw her mess of black curls and flashes of her hands and feet but I was so dissatisfied I stopped looking because I decided I would rather see her full on then disappointing glances, I would wait. I wanted so badly to see her face. They brought her over to Eric but he was sitting a bit behind me and they wouldn’t let me hold her while they were finishing the surgery. The nurses kept telling me to look at my baby but craning my neck hurt and I started shaking again. I had intense shoulder pain and my sinuses were filling up from crying, I was a mess. My mom told me that her eyes were violet and that she was really pretty. Once they had sewed me back up I was rolled to get on a back board to move me back to the maternity bed. I got a nice view of a wall of bloody gauze but I tried to put it out of my mind.
I don’t remember much until they put the baby in my arms back in our room. It’s all kind of blurry now, I was on a lot of medication, but I had her skin to skin immediately and did not let go of her for a long time. I declined the nurses offers to bathe her for several hours because I just wanted to hold this precious girl. We decided on her name (none of our choices fit like Violette did) did some haggling over spelling, and I was able to have some broth and jello, I was starving.
The next 5 days are also very blurry and kind of run together. Leaving the hospital was difficult. The night before we got very little sleep, Violette was very fussy. The night nurse discovered that Violette was feverish and possibly dehydrated at around 3 am. She suggested that I had no milk and set me up with a pump, although she admitted she really didn’t know how to work it. I was completely upset thinking my milk was gone after having been praised by the lactation staff all week for my abundant and superior colostrum. Nothing came of 15 minutes of pumping and I tearfully accepted a bottle of formula for my inconsolable baby.
It was unclear all morning if they would discharge us, with Violette’s bad night and my staples unready to be removed (my Dr had removed 3 the day before, but decided to leave the rest another day) a few nurses implied I would have to stay one more day. This possibility made ME inconsolable and the stress and lack of sleep came to a head and I had a big breakdown, loud uncontrollable sobs. It was embarrassing and a for whatever reason the thought of not going home, not bringing a baby home that day brought out intense feelings about my pmp baby. I was also sick of the uncomfortable hospital bed and not having Eric sleep next to me, I just couldn’t relax there. Eric helped calm me down and we were able to go home in the afternoon. I am still upset that I walked in to the hospital with a natural birth/breastfeeding goal and walked out with a dinnertime c-section and a bag full of formula, a complete statistic.
Once we were home things were a lot better. I had a lot of swelling from the surgery and it started to come down in earnest once I was in my own comfort zone (although it didn’t completely go away until about 2 weeks later and self imposed bed rest-25 lbs in water total!). We did end up being on the go too much the first week home. We had to visit the hospital again on Saturday for a weight check for Violette since she had lost about a pound those first 5 days. Why that was discovered only hours before our discharge I don’t know, it seemed like our care was hit or miss depending on the nurse. We met with the lactation consultant, who is AWESOME and so sensitive to all the emotions that go into breastfeeding and having difficulties with it. She helped us make a breastfeeding plan and it is working.
I had two days at home with no outside commitments, but on Tuesday I woke up at 2 am feeling weird. After using the bathroom I checked my incision to find that I was bleeding from it. Since I am still afraid to look at it, I had my mom check it and she told me I needed to go the ER. Leaving Violette was the hardest thing and I cried all the way there and through the check in process. I was so scared that something was really wrong with me; I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was going to end up losing my uterus. After all the pmp stuff my mind instantly goes to the worst case scenario. My heart was hurting knowing I left my daughter home and that she would wake up for her next feeding and I wouldn’t be there. Luckily it wasn’t a busy night at the ER and I was home by 4 am with new butterflies on the part of my incision that had had the staples removed. I had the rest of the staples removed that day and was assured that things were healing well.
The next morning I had just finished feeding Violette around 6:30 am and noticed my pants were wet. I though it might just be spilled milk or a diaper leak but checked my wound just in case. I was gushing blood from my incision (the other side this time) and had to have my mom do a triage since I was making pools on the floor-thank God she was there and was an OR Tech before she became an attorney! I definitely needed her calm and experienced hands. Again, Eric bundled me in the car (much less emotional, much more resigned) and off to the ER we went, leaving Violette in my mom’s good care. This time my surgeon met us in the ER and let me know that the next course of action would be opening up my incision and keeping it packed with medical gauze to let it (slowly) heal from the inside out alleviating fluid build up. I was completely horrified at having to walk around with an open wound for the next 2-4 weeks, but it had to be done. After going into the Dr’s office for dressing changes the next 3 days, we found out that the VNA had no nurses to come help me so Eric and my mom had to learn how to pack my incision.
Eric took off 6 weeks of work to help me heal. I really regret that more of that time wasn't spent bonding and just enjoying Violette without having to deal with the seroma twice a day. All in all it took 9 weeks to fully heal (it also took 9 weeks to get to negative after the seroma and for my pinky to heal from a break in 2009 so I've decided that all medical bs takes 9 weeks). My incision scar is awful looking, I avoid looking at it. I'll have to have a mini tummy tuck or another child by c section to fix it.
I have very mixed feelings about the whole thing. I modulate from feeling extremely cheated out of a normal and happy birth experience (the pmp, the emergency c section, the unexpected breastfeeding issues, and the incision complication), to optimistic resignation about the whole process. This is my experience, this is what my journey needed to be, and I am accepting it. I do have mixed feelings about having another child. My Dr, my surgeon, and another one of their partners have all informed me that I am not a candidate for VBAC. It’s not something I would have thought about attempting anyway, but it does feel crappy to have that option completely taken off the table. I don’t even know if we want another child, and I know a planned C section would be much easier, but I’m not keen on putting my body through this again. I am starting to grieve my pregnancy a bit, but I know it will pass. Every time I get upset about it I try to remind myself that it’s not a decision I have to make right now, or even in the next 18 months.
Even though it’s been disappointing and upsetting, none of the complications have taken anything away from how lovely our Violette is and how wonderful it is to bond with her and hold her in my arms. I keep concentrating on that because if I don’t I’m afraid I would become overwhelmed at all the hurdles I’ve continued to have to jump over to get to motherhood. I’ve been lauded as a trooper, and although I’m sincerely tired of having to be so tough, I do take some pride that I might just be able to compare myself to nails after all of this. The end result yielded such amazing things: Violette is happy and healthy, Eric and my relationship is stronger than ever, and I'm a mom. Even when I want to feel sorry for myself, I remember that I have been blessed and there is no question that Violette is worth more than every challenge I’ve faced and met.
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