This is random, I will admit that now. And not really an "issue" per say. But I thought this would be the best place for it. Please excuse my typos, I am on my phone nursing the baby...probably the only time I get the chance to sit and type this out lol...
It has occurred to me several times in the last few weeks, how happy I am that I was able to go into labor at home. Perhaps you will think its a silly thing to be so happy about, especially on a website where childbirth sometimes seems almost like a contest, where your womanhood sometimes seems judged by your ability to do it all with no help and no medication. But following my delivery of my first three, this was such a different experience. When I had my oldest, almost 8 years ago now (jeez! Someone stop the clock!) I was induced 2 weeks after my due date. I was 18, and uninformed, and single, witg minimal support from my mother, who absolutely laughed at ny intentions for a drug free delivery. I saw my midwife a grand total of 15 minutes of my 36 hour labor, which ended in an emergency section due to fetal distress. My 9 lb 6 oz "little" boy was taken immediately to NICU for breathing problems and meconium aspiration. It was discovered in the first week that his soft spots had closed completely in utero, making vaginal delivery impossible.
When I discovered I was pregnant again 15 months later, my heart was set on an all natural VBAC...until my baby's health concerns became apparent. She was diagnosed with Turner Syndrome, and severe heart defects, Kidney defects, a cystic hygroma, and eventually Hydrops. We were told we should abort and try again. I chose not o, promising my Gabby if she would fight to live, I would fight to stay pregnant. The outloook was so grim, I bought nothing but a dress for her funeral until I was in the last few weeks of my pregnancy. I didn't want to see baby things if she didn't make it. They said the stress of labor would kill her, so a csection was scheduled. She had her first heart surgery before she was 2 months old. Again I felt my bodyhad somehow failed us...not by not going into labor, but because my child was so ill. Babies shouldnt have to fight for their lives.. I BEGGED my doctor to tie my tubes, but at 19, they said I was too young.
My relationship with her father went downhill, and we were constantly aat odds. I told him we could live together as roommates for the kids, but not have a sexual relationship. He informed me I would still have sex with him, one way or another. When our daughter was 11months old, devestated, I discovered I was pregnant again. I developed hypermesis, and lost a drastic amount of weight. Our home life didn't improve, and when I was. 28 weeks pregnant, he put me in ICU. I almost lost the baby. I resolved to move out as soon as I could find a place to go.Two days before Christmas 2007, I made my move to safety. The following March, my second son was born by scheduled csection. I never had a contraction. I tried to comfort myself with thevfact he left the hospital with me, unlike his siblings, and didn't need surgery. He was my first child to not need put back together.
I experienced a string of extremely painful losses, and was eventually told I would never carry another child. I was so upset, and ecentually it was a contributing factor in a very messy break up.
Two days after Thanksgiving last year, I took a pregnancy test, ti prove my constant puking wasnt morning sickness. Two lines. I was thrilled and horrified at the same time. And I was convinced I wouldn't get to bring home a baby at the end, and I dreaded what I felt was the inevitable miscarriage. But it didn't happen. There were so many problem and I felt like I lived at tge doctor's, but eventually I became optimistic.
At the end of the pregnancy, things were just getting more complex. I was nearly frantic, knowing something was more wrong than the doctor knew, but having it all fall on deaf ears.
I started bleeding in my sleep on Thursday morning, after several days if being unable to hold down even water. I was admitted over night, and released Friday morning. I went to my older kids last tball game and resolved to relax as much as I could. Saturday, I was contracting every. 5 minutes, but not hard or long enough. We went to Chris' cousin's. 5 th birthday and came home...it wasn't until then that I told Chris I thought I may be going into labor. I was woken up by painful contractions. I tried to wait on his alarm to go off at 6, but at 630 I was in enougg pain I woke Chris up and said something I had never said before - "Honey, wake up...I'm in labor."
It was a flurry of phone calls and grandmas and everyone's bags to go to either the hospital or the sitter.
We had Lola 2 hours and 46 minutes after we got there. Once it was established that I was, indeed, in labor, we were immediately prepped for surgery.
When I talked to tge delivering doctor after surgery, she said later..
polyhydramnios I had developed had put such severe strain in my uterine scar from previous sections, that I would have ruptured internally before the date my csection was sceduled for, ten days later. By going into labor at 37 weeks, my body probably saved both of us.
Knowing my body CAN grow a healthy baby, go into labor, and at the same time, save our lives by doing so? Incredible feeling. I am so much more at ease with my body now - thankful to it, even. No, its not perfect. But it can do what it was designed for.
Having finally experienced that, is almost surreal.
I'm glad I read this. Thank you for sharing you story. You are such a strong momma for not giving up on yourself or your children.