It's kind of funny; starting this blog before I even try to conceive again. I feel like I have so much to get out but almost like it's not worth writing about. I think I need to remember that in the end, this is for me to read back over and is a record of how I approach this healing birth, so no matter how trivial my thoughts may seem, if I want to get them out I should.
At the minute I am playing the waiting game. My medical records are on their way. I got a letter on Thursday confirming my photocopying payment had been received and that my file was in the photocopying pile. I have no idea how big that pile is but I think I'll ring on Monday or Tuesday to find out. I am scared. I don't know what my labour with my son looked like from the outside. I'm also scared that reading it all will make everything fresh again. Of course it will! I'm not looking forward to reading how far I got in terms of dilation. For some reason I was sure I got to 4cm. But reading back over my birth story the other day, I'd written 8cm. Makes it so much worse that I was 2 freaking cm away from being fully dilated and I failed. 2cm. Not 6cm like I'd thought. 2cm seems like nothing. 2cm is nothing.
Hubby and I also had a moment of "screw this, let's just have a baby now". I am close to certain that I was past being fertile for this month but I guess we'll wait and see. I doubt I am pregnant but it's still confusing. Part of me hopes so badly I am, and another part doesn't know how to cope with the thought that I might be.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
The fears that plague me
Have been talking a bit more with hubby this past week about the whole home birth thing. He supports me because it is what I want to do, but I need to know that he wants to do it for his own reasons. I need him to support me with everything he has not just the part of him that wants me to be happy. We spoke about some of our fears and I figure one of the best ways to work through them is to get them out in the open.
1) I am terrified I will end up with another c-section. That we will pay all that money and still end up back where we started. I'm worried that something will happen before labour starts that means a c-section is necessary. I don't know how I would cope with the remainder of my pregnancy knowing I was heading back into the operating theatre rather than a pool in my loungeroom. I'm trying to work through the fact that it may happen and that my aim here isn't a vaginal birth, it's a birth where I feel empowered and in control, a birth where I make the decisions and am happy with them before, during and after.
2) I am terrified that everything will go perfectly, but it will be one big fat let down. That I'll be left wondering what the big deal was and why I cared so much. I spoke to the midwife about that fear and she assured me that none of the women she worked with for a VBAC ever felt disappointed. On the contrary, it meants so much more because they had worked so much harder.
3) I am terrified something will happen to the baby and people will blame me for homebirthing. I'm terrified that if something did happen, hubby would blame me and I don't know that we'd get through something like that. I know that this fear can be resolved by talking it out with hubby now, making sure he is making his own decision to homebirth, that he understands that bad things can happen in hospitals too.
4) I am scared of uterine rupture or other complications that may result in me not being able to have more children. I can't imagine having a body that is incapable of carrying babies. Even when our family is complete, I will still love the knowledge of what my body can do.
5) I am scared that I will have an amazing support network and be all set, and someone will pull out at the last minute leaving me with the options of hospital birth or unassisted birth.
6) I am scared that before I even conceive, the midwifery legislation will change, preventing IM's from attending HBACs.
7) I am even terrified that when the time comes, I won't even be able to get pregnant. I am a bit of a hypochondriac when it comes to my uterus. I am terrified something went wrong at my last c-section and I won't be able to have more children.
8) I am terrified that when push comes to shove, we will not be able to afford a home birth.
I am NOT terrified of labour, the pain, pushing, birthing my baby. That, I know I can handle.
1) I am terrified I will end up with another c-section. That we will pay all that money and still end up back where we started. I'm worried that something will happen before labour starts that means a c-section is necessary. I don't know how I would cope with the remainder of my pregnancy knowing I was heading back into the operating theatre rather than a pool in my loungeroom. I'm trying to work through the fact that it may happen and that my aim here isn't a vaginal birth, it's a birth where I feel empowered and in control, a birth where I make the decisions and am happy with them before, during and after.
2) I am terrified that everything will go perfectly, but it will be one big fat let down. That I'll be left wondering what the big deal was and why I cared so much. I spoke to the midwife about that fear and she assured me that none of the women she worked with for a VBAC ever felt disappointed. On the contrary, it meants so much more because they had worked so much harder.
3) I am terrified something will happen to the baby and people will blame me for homebirthing. I'm terrified that if something did happen, hubby would blame me and I don't know that we'd get through something like that. I know that this fear can be resolved by talking it out with hubby now, making sure he is making his own decision to homebirth, that he understands that bad things can happen in hospitals too.
4) I am scared of uterine rupture or other complications that may result in me not being able to have more children. I can't imagine having a body that is incapable of carrying babies. Even when our family is complete, I will still love the knowledge of what my body can do.
5) I am scared that I will have an amazing support network and be all set, and someone will pull out at the last minute leaving me with the options of hospital birth or unassisted birth.
6) I am scared that before I even conceive, the midwifery legislation will change, preventing IM's from attending HBACs.
7) I am even terrified that when the time comes, I won't even be able to get pregnant. I am a bit of a hypochondriac when it comes to my uterus. I am terrified something went wrong at my last c-section and I won't be able to have more children.
8) I am terrified that when push comes to shove, we will not be able to afford a home birth.
I am NOT terrified of labour, the pain, pushing, birthing my baby. That, I know I can handle.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Excited and a little scared
Since having my second c-section 18 months ago, I've often found myself searching the local independant midwives, sussing out the prices and how supportive they seem of HBA2C. My searching seems to come and go in phases and obviously is linked directly to how I'm feeling at the time about my obstetric past and my HBAC desires. It peaked after my nephew was born 3 months ago then settled down again. It's starting to re-emerge as hubby and I discuss our third bubba with more seriousness. The plan was to start trying in August next year after my sister's wedding but I'm starting to think I want to try before then. I finally feel ready for another baby, not just another go at birth. I still want to wait a little bit. I plan to have my first decent New Years Eve in four years, haha. So January at the earliest (and for anyone reading this that actually knows me, please don't share that info!).
Anyways, back to the point. Over the past 18 months I've probably sent 10 or so emails to various midwives or midwifery practices. Not one, not a single freakin one, emailed me back. Not 18 months ago when I was asking for someone to give me just a little bit of hope that one day I might bounce back and not three months ago when I started giving some very serious thought to HBAC. I know I could've called, but I just find emailing easier. I don't often get enough time to myself at an appropriate time (aka, NOT 1am), and I just find it easier to have everything in writing so I can refer back to it. So, yeah, no-one returned my emails.
Until yesterday. A LOVELY woman who I did end up talking to on the phone. She told me that her practice doesn't actually do homebirths but gave me the name of another midwife to contact. She didn't even have anything to gain from getting back to me. I wasn't going to be hiring her because she couldn't offer what I wanted, but she took the time to email to ask for my number, then call. Then call back when I couldn't talk the first time. Then call back when she had to leave a voicemail the second time and I hadn't yet returned her call. All just to help me.
So, I emailed the midwife she recommended and had a return email within about an hour: "happy to support HBA2C". I can't explain how I felt when I read that. With all the politics around homebirth at the minute, I was just expecting to hit brick wall after brick wall, and to add to that, I'd started to think no-one even cared enough to email back. So the journey starts. I sent in today to get my medical records from the hospital where I had my 2 c-sections. Once they get here I will make an appointment to go through them with the midwife and see what we can change this time. I'm so glad that she is working with me *before* even trying to conceive again. It just makes sense and I guess it kinda shows me that she is as eager for me to succeed as I am.
I am just so excited that I am starting to do something pro-active and so scared about how it's all going to work out. I've got a long way to go, but you canbe damn sure I'm going to get there!
Anyways, back to the point. Over the past 18 months I've probably sent 10 or so emails to various midwives or midwifery practices. Not one, not a single freakin one, emailed me back. Not 18 months ago when I was asking for someone to give me just a little bit of hope that one day I might bounce back and not three months ago when I started giving some very serious thought to HBAC. I know I could've called, but I just find emailing easier. I don't often get enough time to myself at an appropriate time (aka, NOT 1am), and I just find it easier to have everything in writing so I can refer back to it. So, yeah, no-one returned my emails.
Until yesterday. A LOVELY woman who I did end up talking to on the phone. She told me that her practice doesn't actually do homebirths but gave me the name of another midwife to contact. She didn't even have anything to gain from getting back to me. I wasn't going to be hiring her because she couldn't offer what I wanted, but she took the time to email to ask for my number, then call. Then call back when I couldn't talk the first time. Then call back when she had to leave a voicemail the second time and I hadn't yet returned her call. All just to help me.
So, I emailed the midwife she recommended and had a return email within about an hour: "happy to support HBA2C". I can't explain how I felt when I read that. With all the politics around homebirth at the minute, I was just expecting to hit brick wall after brick wall, and to add to that, I'd started to think no-one even cared enough to email back. So the journey starts. I sent in today to get my medical records from the hospital where I had my 2 c-sections. Once they get here I will make an appointment to go through them with the midwife and see what we can change this time. I'm so glad that she is working with me *before* even trying to conceive again. It just makes sense and I guess it kinda shows me that she is as eager for me to succeed as I am.
I am just so excited that I am starting to do something pro-active and so scared about how it's all going to work out. I've got a long way to go, but you canbe damn sure I'm going to get there!
Monday, October 17, 2011
Something has changed within me
Another song has been playing over and over on my iPhone. Another Glee song at that! Haha. And every time I hear it, the lyrics sum up a lot of what I feel about my births (past and future) just like Rolling in the Deep. I guess it's fair to say that it's pretty self-explanatory why the lyrics have the effect they do. Maybe I'm developing my birth play-list without even realising it!!
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Jerks!
Ugh. I'm so over it. There is a lot going on at the minute in terms of home birth, especially related to birthing at home after a previous ceasarean. Basically, there is a call for women not to be allowed to home birth after a ceasarean. The reasoning is that it is too risky. I'm not going to go into the stats and research that tell us that the additional risks are minimal (and comparable to those involved in undergoing a repeat ceasarean). More importantly, I think, is the fact that we are talking about women's rights here. Women should be able to weigh up the risks and make a decision themselves. THey should have access to a qualified individual (i.e. a midwife) who can (legally, while remaining registered AND insured) provide the relevant information so they can compare the risks and benefits. Women should NOT have their choices dictated by some pompous arsehole (whoever that might be), who stares blankly past the statistics right into the business that is made by hospital births, in particular surgical births. I would NEVER choose to homebirth if I did not think it was a safe choice for me and my baby.
It just makes me so angry that I'm willing to fork out a SHIT load of money so I can have a go at the kind of birth I want, but there's a damn good chance it will be ripped out from underneath me before I even get close. Where is the freedom of choice?
My options are very likely to be either returning to the hospital, a thought that even now provokes anxiety and makes my eyes fill up with tears, birth unassisted, a choice that scares the crap outta me, or find a midwife who is willing to risk their professional life.
It sucks.
I'd written letters and sent emails lobbying for the cause, but really, I was just kidding myself. They don't care. They aren't gonna change their minds no matter how many women write in.
Ugh... so angry, so frustrated, and so over it!
It just makes me so angry that I'm willing to fork out a SHIT load of money so I can have a go at the kind of birth I want, but there's a damn good chance it will be ripped out from underneath me before I even get close. Where is the freedom of choice?
My options are very likely to be either returning to the hospital, a thought that even now provokes anxiety and makes my eyes fill up with tears, birth unassisted, a choice that scares the crap outta me, or find a midwife who is willing to risk their professional life.
It sucks.
I'd written letters and sent emails lobbying for the cause, but really, I was just kidding myself. They don't care. They aren't gonna change their minds no matter how many women write in.
Ugh... so angry, so frustrated, and so over it!
Monday, September 5, 2011
I wish it was August already!
Feeling all mixed up tonight... I know that waiting til August next year to try for another baby is the best thing for a number of reasons, but I just wish I was ready now. I'm so ready to be pregnant. I'm so ready to go through it all again. But, I am still not ready for another baby.
If it did happen, I know I'd be rapt and I know we'd make it work and for that reason I almost want to just let myself go and do it all now... it'd be ok and I'd be ok.
Blah.
If it did happen, I know I'd be rapt and I know we'd make it work and for that reason I almost want to just let myself go and do it all now... it'd be ok and I'd be ok.
Blah.
Monday, August 1, 2011
My first caesarean
The story of my first caesarean isn't particularly dramatic, but it is mine. If I was writing this story 2 years ago, it would probably be a bit different. But now, knowing what I do, I see things in a new light.
My first pregnancy was amazing. I loved every single minute of it. Sure there were things that were slightly less than pleasant; some mild morning sickness, rib pain, difficulty getting comfortable and all that jazz, but I was so in awe of what was happening that those things were barely bothersome. I loved watching my belly grow, talking about baby names, buying bits and peices and wondering whether we were having a boy or a girl.
I never once imagined myself having a caesarean. I was young, slightly overweight but not too significant, not amazingly fit either but fit enough. I just never imagined being cut open to have my baby delivered. Now, I can't say that I really thought much about labour either. I knew what it was, how it worked and all that, but I never wrote a birth plan. I figured I'd just let things happen. The midwives at the hospital would be able to talk me through it. I packed my hospital bag at 35 weeks complete with things I thought I might want in labour. I unpacked and repacked that bag several times over the following weeks.
I went for all my appointments. No concerns. At 36 weeks, the appointments became weekly. Still, throughout my whole pregnancy, I had not seen the same midwife twice. I had a different midwife each appointment. At 38 weeks, 5 days I saw a midwife named Rebecca. She was the same age as I was and we had a nice little chat. She said she wasn't 100% sure about bub's position but had a good feel and declared "head down and engaged". She was a bit unsure at first whether she couldn't find the head because bubs was breech or because bubs was so far engaged. She decided it was the latter.
That's the first time I'd been let down by the hospital staff.
The following week, I saw Rebecca again. The same midwife for the first time in 9 months. Whether or not she planned it that way to double check bubs position because of her hesitations the previous week I will never know. I think it is possible since she encouraged me to take an afternoon appointment which I had never done, and she happened to be working the afternoon shift. Anyways, I wont dwell on that.
She had some concerns with my blood pressure and again, bub's positioning, so I was sent off the fetal monitoring. They did an ultrasound straight away and found that bubs was, in fact, breech. I then sat through 4 hours of monitoring to make sure everything was ok due to my blood pressure which had come straight down anyway.
I left that appointment with a new appointment for a caesarean section the following morning. My daughter was delivered the day before her "due" date at 11:06am. The procedure was fine. I threw up at one point, and I did have to spend half an hour away from my daughter while I waited in recovery but I did get a hold before that (although she was all wrapped up). I spend 4 nights in hospital and for the most part the staff were fine. There was one midwife who was quite rude, but nothing extreme.
All in all, I left the hospital satisfied that everything had been done as it needed to be.
It's not a hard story for me to tell, but I do regret not doing my research. I know now that vaginal breech is more than possible. I can't help but feel that if I had done my research and managed to have my daughter vaginally, then I wouldn't have faced the battle I did to VBAC with my son and then perhaps, I would not have failed then.
Perhaps I would've had that skin to skin contact that sounds like a dream. I have not had that with either of my babies and it's something that sticks in the back of mind. This amazing experience of a fresh little bubba being popped straight onto my chest ready to nurse as he/she desires. Instead, my daughter was pulled from my stomach and dangled in front of me while they clamped the cord. We saw that she was a girl before she was whipped away to be rubbed all over vigorously by a rough towel (she was crying quite clearly when she came out) and wrapped up in the towel before having her handed to me to hold in some awkward position supported by my husband. I held her for about 5 seconds before I had to have her taken away so I could throw up. I got her back while they sewed me up but then off to recovery while she spent a good hald hour sucking her fists waiting for that first feed.
It wasn't a traumatic experience but I just can't help but wonder what could've been.
My first pregnancy was amazing. I loved every single minute of it. Sure there were things that were slightly less than pleasant; some mild morning sickness, rib pain, difficulty getting comfortable and all that jazz, but I was so in awe of what was happening that those things were barely bothersome. I loved watching my belly grow, talking about baby names, buying bits and peices and wondering whether we were having a boy or a girl.
I never once imagined myself having a caesarean. I was young, slightly overweight but not too significant, not amazingly fit either but fit enough. I just never imagined being cut open to have my baby delivered. Now, I can't say that I really thought much about labour either. I knew what it was, how it worked and all that, but I never wrote a birth plan. I figured I'd just let things happen. The midwives at the hospital would be able to talk me through it. I packed my hospital bag at 35 weeks complete with things I thought I might want in labour. I unpacked and repacked that bag several times over the following weeks.
I went for all my appointments. No concerns. At 36 weeks, the appointments became weekly. Still, throughout my whole pregnancy, I had not seen the same midwife twice. I had a different midwife each appointment. At 38 weeks, 5 days I saw a midwife named Rebecca. She was the same age as I was and we had a nice little chat. She said she wasn't 100% sure about bub's position but had a good feel and declared "head down and engaged". She was a bit unsure at first whether she couldn't find the head because bubs was breech or because bubs was so far engaged. She decided it was the latter.
That's the first time I'd been let down by the hospital staff.
The following week, I saw Rebecca again. The same midwife for the first time in 9 months. Whether or not she planned it that way to double check bubs position because of her hesitations the previous week I will never know. I think it is possible since she encouraged me to take an afternoon appointment which I had never done, and she happened to be working the afternoon shift. Anyways, I wont dwell on that.
She had some concerns with my blood pressure and again, bub's positioning, so I was sent off the fetal monitoring. They did an ultrasound straight away and found that bubs was, in fact, breech. I then sat through 4 hours of monitoring to make sure everything was ok due to my blood pressure which had come straight down anyway.
I left that appointment with a new appointment for a caesarean section the following morning. My daughter was delivered the day before her "due" date at 11:06am. The procedure was fine. I threw up at one point, and I did have to spend half an hour away from my daughter while I waited in recovery but I did get a hold before that (although she was all wrapped up). I spend 4 nights in hospital and for the most part the staff were fine. There was one midwife who was quite rude, but nothing extreme.
All in all, I left the hospital satisfied that everything had been done as it needed to be.
It's not a hard story for me to tell, but I do regret not doing my research. I know now that vaginal breech is more than possible. I can't help but feel that if I had done my research and managed to have my daughter vaginally, then I wouldn't have faced the battle I did to VBAC with my son and then perhaps, I would not have failed then.
Perhaps I would've had that skin to skin contact that sounds like a dream. I have not had that with either of my babies and it's something that sticks in the back of mind. This amazing experience of a fresh little bubba being popped straight onto my chest ready to nurse as he/she desires. Instead, my daughter was pulled from my stomach and dangled in front of me while they clamped the cord. We saw that she was a girl before she was whipped away to be rubbed all over vigorously by a rough towel (she was crying quite clearly when she came out) and wrapped up in the towel before having her handed to me to hold in some awkward position supported by my husband. I held her for about 5 seconds before I had to have her taken away so I could throw up. I got her back while they sewed me up but then off to recovery while she spent a good hald hour sucking her fists waiting for that first feed.
It wasn't a traumatic experience but I just can't help but wonder what could've been.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)