fenblogging

one interesting life and adventure with my hubby

Rocked My VBAC

on June 24, 2017

It has been a long time since I have posted, and I apologize. Since I graduated from my Bachelor education online, I have been avoiding my computer like the plague. I just didn’t want to look at it. And there was so much other stuff going on. Hubby got selected for an advancement, his twin and dad came out, I was trying to finish school and was babysitting in addition to caring for little man… and I got pregnant. No drinking celebrations for me.

Little man 2 is 4 weeks old now, and it was quite a journey. I had a constant fight with my providers about having my VBAC, and how my weight was such a huge factor, or my developing Gestational Diabetes. I was given a stupid lecture by every provider about how scheduling another cesarean would be sooo much easier, for everyone but me. Problem is, I did not want another cesarean, and I had no support system adequate to help me if I did. All my friends pretty much vanished after I found out I was pregnant. I told every provider, come hell or high water, the baby was coming out the way my body was designed, because my son needed me, and hubby is going on a long business trip, where he will be unable to assist me.

I had little support from my family in the matter. Everyone in my family wanted me to schedule so they knew when to come visit (no one has), or that I was risking my life and my child’s. But I wasn’t. My in laws are all cesarean birthers, so they couldn’t see the reason for a VBAC, or even a vaginal birth. My husband only understood the difference it made after I had our second son, who I was wholly convinced was a girl, he kept hiding the anatomy during the ultrasounds, save for the quickest peaks.

Hubby went on a few business trips during my pregnancy, and the first I got to share with my in laws, when I found out I was pregnant. I thought I had gallstones or something. Nope, just pregnant. Thankfully, they watched my little man while I went and got myself checked out. And I got to surprise my father in law in person with a test. I was able to let hubby know as soon as I found out in the hospital, I was fortunate enough to be able to have contact with him in real time.

I started feeling sick the day the advancement was finalized, and it hit me like a ton of bricks for most of the pregnancy. I did what I could with house improvements, but eventually, it was just too much. Our friends we had asked to help us all bailed, and we ended up hiring a contractor a few months later. The contractor also separated the big room upstairs into the two bedrooms it was meant to be, and it is finally finished this past week.

Little 2 developed normally, and he arrived in May at 40 weeks and 5 days, where my water started leaking and contractions started at 3:30 am. Sadly, it was back labor as he was sunnyside up (posterior), and I neglected to do any exercises or remedies to try and better position him. I labored as best I could, I was unable to lay back down, and the contractions came every 2 minutes, lasting a minute each, but sometimes rolled into each other. The whole labor, up until my epidural. I labored at home until 7:30, when I just felt too uncomfortable, and asked hubby to take us to the hospital. I had tried the tub, a shower, anything, but he was not helping, and I didn’t have a support person.

We loaded up sleepy toddler boy, who was confused why his mommy was acting so strange, and we hit the drive through at McDonald’s before going to the hospital. Even though I had G.D., I had that bacon, egg, and cheese mcgriddle on the way there. I was uncomfortable, sitting was awful (little man was fully engaged in my pelvis, felt like I had a bowling ball in my butt), but I knew they weren’t going to feed me at the hospital, so eating was a priority. And it helped.

I didn’t want to be checked at the hospital, but it was required. It hurt, the combination of being forced to sit, then lay down, and then have a huge hand and the speculum shoved in my working body was unbearable. I cried. I almost screamed. I was also forced to have an IV placed in my hand, and that hurts, and I still have a lump in my hand… But, I pushed it aside and we went into my room. I was 3cm at 8am.

I was given wireless monitors (I didn’t want to be monitored), but I was able to get into the tub, and I felt some relief there. My toddler boy kept coming to check on me, and hubby was not watching or engaging him like I had hoped, so I was not able to concentrate or relax like I needed to. I was very pissed at him for that. Eventually, I overheated, and got tired of the nurses pushing me into painful positions to get baby on the monitor, which happened to be in the crease of my belly on my leg. I could not sit comfortably in the tub like that.

I labored standing and swaying, trying to parent my son as my husband was still not watching him. The staff wanted to check me again, and I refused, and the OB on call threw a hissy fit because I didn’t want to be checked. The risk of infection, the discomfort, the fact that a MAN is upset I do not want him touching me (I am a sexual assault and rape survivor, and he was made aware of that!!!), I was upset. They sent my midwife in to bully me, but I only caved when I wanted some pain relief. The only options they offered were fentanyl and the epidural. Since fentanyl is a hard drug, and would only give me an hour, I settled for the epidural. We also called a sitter, and they came and got my toddler boy for the day. Since he was familiar with her, and she has a daughter his age, he was off for fun. I could relax. I allowed my midwife to check me, and stated only female nurses would be allowed to check me and gently after this. I was at 6cm, but I was fighting the back labor, tensing up, and unable to relax.

Hubby started doing counterpressure on my hips with my contractions, until they could get the epidural placed. I would have loved even a low dose, but they only did the full numbing dose. Once I was no longer in pain, I decided to rest. Did I mention I only had about 2 hours of sleep?! I was up late prepping for my appointment to get assessed and when I went to go pee, my water had broken. I dozed off for about an hour or two, and then they came and tried me on the peanut ball, since little man was not doing well on the monitors. He settled and they took away the peanut ball, and he was descending nicely, I could feel him moving ever lower.

By 4pm or so, I was left with just a lip, and they started prepping the room for delivery. I kept feeling him move down and closer. I had wanted my epidural turned off so I could birth in a position other than on my back, but was denied. I would have loved a more upright position, squatting, or hands and knees. I was stuck on my back, which is no good for delivering a baby. I ended up puking the baby down to crowning position.

Shitty attitude OB was back, and told me that my baby was having decels to 100, and we needed to expedite his delivery. I wasn’t allowed to change position, and the vacuum was used to bring him closer. Then, I needed to have an episitiomy, because he was “not going to fit through”. What do you expect when I am on my back, with my vulva getting more direct light than it ever thought possible, instead of being in a gravity position. I was able to stall both procedures by two contractions, but they still “had to” happen…. I also felt a sharp pain in my far right side, though it was likely little legs kicking out as he descended down and out.

I felt little man break through, there was a burn I still felt, and then after a few more minutes (my contractions had slowed way down), I pushed his body out. He had meconium in his mouth, and they did not delay cutting the cord, or anything. He was whisked to the other side of the room to make sure his lungs were clear, while I was again left to be stitched up by a man I resented. I started shaking really hard after the birth, and the OB also refused to let my placenta detach on it’s own, but was applying traction (albeit gently) to the cord to pull my placenta out. He refused to stitch around it.

A short while later, little man was brought to me, all the vernix had been wiped off, again against my wishes, and he was not interested in nursing at all. And his sugars came back low, so we were struggling to get him to nurse without needing formula, so he could recover. Hubby was ecstatic about his little boy, and he had helped me deliver, by holding one of my numb legs to help me push. I will add that they didn’t tell me how pushing works in that position, and got mad that I was not purple pushing, but breathing out as I pushed. I don’t think my body or baby liked the position or forced issue.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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