― C.S. Lewis
6 years ago I gave birth to the most amazing little boy in my entire world.
It was the toughest decision I ever had to make. You're probably wondering what I'm talking about. Just 16 short months earlier I had given birth to our first son, by emergency cesarean. Cesaren wasn't supposed to happen to me. As they talked about c-sections in our birthing class I would talk to the girl next to me, or look around the room or do ANYTHING but pay attention because a c-section was simply NOT happening TO ME.
Well, after 24 hours of labor, 2 hours of pushing, and several nurses and doctors telling me it had to happen that way, I finally relented when the heartbeat of my unborn baby started going 'wonky'.
With the deepest pain in my heart I can describe, I instructed my medical team, "get him out. Get him out and give me my healthy baby".
I still can't completely understand why it pained me so much. Even to this day as I type these words I get a little misty eyed. Giving birth was a right of passage. And I couldn't do it. My body failed me. In my eyes, for the LONEST time, I wasn't meant to be a mother. I failed to birth my baby. Therefore, I didn't deserve him.
The absolute high of having our first son, and watching all his milestones in amazement clouded most of these thoughts, but when he was only 7 young months old and the doctor looked at me and said, "you're pregnant!" they all came bubbling to the surface.
The next few months were spent pouring over literature, doing the statistical analysis of what my EXACT risk of uterine rupture was to try for a vaginal birth after cesarean - a VBAC. 2% increased risk if your baby was over 8 pounds, 5% increased risk if you have less than a 18 months between pregnancies, 7% increase in risk if your baby was over 8 pounds and you gained less than 30 pounds...and the lists went on and on. And when it came right down to who would be harmed if a rupture did occur, 90% of the time, it was the baby. How could I calculate a risk and then put it on my baby's head?
And my body spoke to me. I was still sore. My scar was still red and barely healed on the outside - how would it fair on the INSIDE under the stress and pressure of giving birth??
I tormented over the decision. I went to VBAC support groups. I bought books. I read medical journals. I would leave nothing to an uneducated chance. And I prayed. I prayed and prayed for some guidence on what I should do.
I didn't have the confidence my body was ready. I had just recently given birth to a 9.5 pound baby after only gaining 22 pounds in my pregnancy. I couldn't gain less weight. And being induced early wasn't an option.
In the end my OB and I comprimised on the decision to have a scheduled cesarean at exactly 40 weeks. I would not be scheduled 2 weeks early like most scheduled cesareans are done. If I went into labor before that date, I would see it as a sign from God to go ahead and birth the baby. If not, into the hospital for surgery I would go. And the praying continued. Until one night at 37 weeks the cramping started. I was elated!! I had gone into labor on my own. Very small contractions every 10 minutes for an hour and a half. I walked the house. Paced back and forth waiting for them to get stronger. Excited about trying for a VBAC. When off the the sudden, they just stopped as quickly as they had started. Nothing. In the middle of the night in my dark house there was nothing but silence. My heart broke into a million pieces right then and there because something inside of me knew it was going to be another surgery.
3 weeks went by slowly. No cramping. No sign of baby coming out on his own. The cesarean went by as planned. Our baby boy came screaming into the world at 8 pounds 2 ounces. Over a pound smaller than predicted. We were happy to have him here safe and sound.
But I was broken.
The following months were painful and tormented. Again I failed to give birth. I failed at doing the one thing I had dreamed my entire life of doing - bringing life into the world.
I started seeing a counsellor but quickly stopped. Even though she was a woman, she didn't understand what I was going through. She had two successful vaginal births, and kept telling me my babies were healthy, get over it. I leaned heavily on my VBAC group. These were a group of women who KNEW me and KNEW what my heart was going through.
I did go on to have a successful VBA2C. I felt like a celebrity in the delivery room that day. Nurses and doctors coming in from other departments to congratulate the woman who delivered after TWO cesareans. When someone would whisper, "she had a VBAC?" my midwife was quick to emphasize, "a V-TWO-BAC".
I realize now that God decided to give me a vaginal birth not just to complete me as a woman, but also to show me that my scheduled cesarean was the RIGHT choice. Giving birth was difficult. I mean REALLY hard. Two hours of pushing with our first son, because he did not come down far enough was NOTHING like pushing a baby all the way out.
My body was not ready. It needed to heal. And my heart needed to heal too.
Blaine I love you to the moon and back. In my lifetime, your birth was the most tormented decision I have ever had to make. But I made the choices I made ALWAYS with you top of mind. You make me laugh and you make me love like I never have before.
It's taken me time to learn, but there is NO failure in sacrificing yourself for the ones you love.
And I love you more than words can say.
“It does not take much strength to do things, but it requires a great deal of strength to decide what to do.”
― Elbert Hubbard
