Triggered

My traumatic cesarean was almost eight years ago. My last major PTSD incident was over five years ago.  Since then, I've had two babies, including one in a hospital. I've been studying midwifery for several years without incident. Honestly, I had gotten to the point where I pretty much forgot about the PTSD. I felt pretty well "cured." I should know better.

A few weeks ago, during my studies, I started reading about Pitocin. I've known about pitocin for awhile. I figured I had a pretty good handle on the risks and side effects. I knew pit had caused the tetanic contraction (turns out that's the name for the unending contraction I had) that lead to my cesarean. I knew I'd been overdosed on it. I could handle this. It never occured to me to expect trouble.

As I was reading, I came across more information than I had ever previously heard about pit, and it brought some of the events surrounding my cesarean into focus. Most of them I had written off as incidental to having surgery, or part of the trauma, and some didn't even merit mention in the birth story. Turns out many of these may have been caused by the pit, and were WAY more serious than I had ever been told.

For example, I didn't know pitocin is an antidiuretic. That means it keeps water in your body, even when that fluid should be excreted by the kidneys. The morning after my cesarean, I was swollen up like a balloon, from chest to toes. I am not a person who swells. My feet are swollen when the veins don't stick out as much as normal. That morning I was SWOLLEN. Shiny, taught, painful skin. The level of swelling is what drove me to talk the nurse into walking the halls with me at five in the morning. It scared me and I wanted it to go down. I figured walking would do it. It didn't. Turns out, in sensitive individuals (or, I imagine, in those who have been given three times the proper amount) and especially when combined with excessive IV fluids, pit can cause the body to retain so much water it can cause severe electrolyte imbalance, which can be fatal.

I also didn't know that pitocin can cause a drop in blood pressure. No wonder my blood pressure went so low! In addition to both the spinal and epidural lowering my blood pressure, I had pit to deal with! With my heart already racing and already feeling flashbacks coming on, I looked up just HOW low my blood pressure had gone. Mine was 70/40 AFTER two doses of epinephrine, which is used to raise blood pressure. 50/35 leads to coma. I have no idea how low my bp went before the epinephrine. But I'm fairly sure I was crashing. It explains all of the disjointedness I felt about the surgery after they took my daughter out of the room, and how I went from dying to see her the moment she was taken out to totally not caring when they brought the burrito baby over to me. I'm pretty sure I was literally in the process of dying.

Even knowing that in the end I didn't die, I was terrified for myself when I read all of this. It doesn't make any sense, not rationally, but I was suddenly wracked with fear for myself and my baby daughter. I was no longer in the "now." I was back to "then," living it, dying and terrified. When I was actually living it, I didn't know I was dying. The idea never entered my mind, and I certainly never felt like peacefully slipping off to anywhere. I specifically told the anesthesiologist he had better do something about my blood pressure! But I also wasn't scared, and I probably should have been. It is impossible to accurately express how I was apathetic during the actual event and terrified during my flashbacks almost 8 years later. It doesn't make sense to me, but I'm certainly not an expert. All I know is I was. It was a very real fear. And now it is a new part of the experience, one I'm having some trouble integrating.

Fortunately, having eight years of experience behind me, I was able to recognize what was happening. I wanted to fight it, but I knew better. Instead I took a deep breath, warned my husband that today was going to be a difficult day for me, and got in the shower. I cried in a hot shower until I couldn't anymore, then got out and called my friend Cass, who gets it. I knew I needed to talk about it, even though it would be awful. And talk I did, for three hours. And cried some more. I let the flashbacks wash over me when they came, and tried to hold onto my anchor, the thought that I knew I WASN'T actually there, that it's eight years later, and we both make it out mostly unscathed.

I rode it out, and in some ways I'm still riding, because I HAD to write this post, just like I had to call my friend the day it happened. I'm still thinking about it every day, and especially at night. But I also know it will fade, it will go, and if I do what I need to do, it'll pass again into the realm of "then" and I'll move to normal. I'll think about it less and less, and when I do, it won't feel traumatic. It gives me hope, which I didn't have during the first few trigger events. And it makes me proud of me. For what I've survived and how I've come through. Scarred, but strong. And this too shall pass.

16 weeks

12 weeks

The Girlies' Announcement

Belly Blog Carnival

One of my favorite blogs is The Well-Rounded Mama, and the author, kmom, is hosting a Belly Blog Carnival! The Carnival is to promote honest talk about our pregnant and post-pregnant bodies, and our struggles to accept them as they are, while still focusing on the positive. I'm going to attempt to do that, but please be aware that, in the interest of honesty, not all of my body talk will necessarily be positive. Because I do struggle with accepting my body in the state three pregnancies (and not always taking proper care of myself) have left it. But why?


"There is no other organ quite like the uterus. If men had such an organ they would brag about it. So should we." 
— Ina May Gaskin


My body has done amazing things. It has grown and nurtured life. Not once or twice, but three times! My belly has expanded to make room for entire human beings inside of itself. That is pretty awesome. My body was cut open, and left scarred, but it healed! It healed! And went on to carry and birth two more babies! It has been stretched and stretched again, returning to close to normal each time. My breasts have nursed my three babies for many years, at least 18 months a piece. But I have also provided life-giving milk to three babies who were not my own through milk donation. Gallons and gallons of milk from my body! 

My body has done all of the amazing, wonderful things I have asked of it. Yet I do sometimes feel ashamed of the way it looks. I get frustrated that my belly didn't shrink back to the way it was before I was ever pregnant, before it was cut open and rearranged. I get embarrassed that I have stretch marks. My "cesarean shelf" quickly turned into an apron that I hate with a passion. It can be so, so hard to remember all of the amazing things my body has done when I'm in the midst of that self hate, or when someone says something cruel as I walk by. 


Women's bodies are changed by childbirth. Long ago and far away that was revered. 

Saggy breasts, full bellies and wide hips were normal and expected. They're still normal, yet seem very unexpected. We live in a world where our self esteem is determined by how soon after birth we can squeeze into our skinny jeans, rather than being cherished for who we are and what we do. That world inside our own head, where we are meaner to ourselves than we would ever allow anyone else to be to us. So, at least for today, I am celebrating my body and my belly for all it has done for me. I accept all of it, the way it is - the way I am. At least for today, I choose to see my stretch marks as signs of the life I carried within me, my scar as evidence of my love for my children. Body, at least for today, I love you!

Video: The HBA2C of Lilah Rayne!

This birth happened a few weeks after Lauren was born. I not only got to be there, I took many of these pictures!! It was a beautiful, amazing birth, and I was so blessed to be there. Congratulations again, Carol!

Finally Wrote That Letter!

Today is Emily's fourth birthday! A few days ago, I sat down and finally wrote the letter to the anesthesiologist who helped me so much during her birth. I haven't sent it yet; I still have to find his contact information. But here is what I wrote:

February 23, 2011

Dear Dr. X,

I don’t expect you to remember me; we met for only a few short minutes almost four years ago now. But in that time, you made a huge difference in my life. I’ve been meaning to write to you and thank you for all that time. I don’t know why it took me so long, but it finally feels like the right time.

                Four years ago, on February 26, 2007, I walked into A. Hospital in labor with my second baby. But the story starts days before, when my waters broke almost a week before I went into labor. My first baby had been born via a very traumatic cesarean, and I wanted a VBAC more than anything in the world, other than a healthy second baby. So I stayed home and waited for labor to start. It finally did on February 25^th. I labored all day and all night, and into the next day. After 30+ hours, we made the difficult decision that something felt wrong, and headed in to the hospital, knowing I’d be going in for another cesarean. At the front desk, I was offered a wheelchair. I wanted it, but I could not take it. I think now that I was buying myself every extra second I could get. I walked up to the birthing center, stopping every two or three minutes for another contraction.

                It felt like it took hours, but I finally made it up to the birthing center. I could barely tell the nurses my name at that point. They hustled me into a room, and took a quick history. When I said I was a VBACer, they made it clear that the hospital doesn’t support VBAC, and I resigned myself to my fate. The doctor on call was just leaving, so he refused to see me. The new doctor on call was still seeing patients up in R, so it was decided that I should get an epidural, rather than wait for a spinal right before surgery.

                So that’s where I was when we had occasion to meet. You walked into my room and told me about the risks of epidural, pausing for my contractions. I’d never had a doctor do that before, wait for me to be capable of listening. It makes a big difference, you know. That little pause shows women that you think of them as human. And it makes a big difference.

                You told me you were going to give me just enough drugs to take the edge off, and started telling me that I did not want to be recovering from surgery and caring for a newborn at the same time. I was expecting the opposite to the point that I replied, “I know, you think I was stupid for even trying…”

                You got a little more into my face then, to make sure I heard you, and told me No. We are going to get this baby out before the doctor can get here. Then you gave me a perfect epidural. The edge was off, but I still had to work through each contraction. Then you left, and I don’t remember seeing you again.

                I know you probably don’t remember me, and that’s okay, but I’ve always wondered if you ever heard what happened, or if for you, the story ends here. And I wanted you to know the end. I didn’t get the baby out before the doctor made it in, but by then I was strong enough again to sign the AMA papers, declining the cesarean.  At 8:55 pm, I pushed my second daughter into this world, with a crowd of onlookers. For me, there was no one in the world but her and I. She was perfect and we were both healthy and fine. We named her Emily Michelle. She was eight pounds and three ounces. (My first daughter had been six pounds, fourteen ounces and I was told she was too big for me!)

                Emily is about to turn four. She is a delightful child, and loves to draw. She can’t wait to start school with her big sister. Two years ago, I gave birth to my third daughter, at home. She was nine pounds, eight ounces. Her birth was seven hours, start to finish.

                If I had ended up with another cesarean with my second baby, I don’t think I’d have been capable of trying again. I wouldn’t have my third baby at all. Birth IS that important in a woman’s life. It is not routine for us. It is life-changing and earth-shattering. Being respected (or not)and having our wishes honored (or not) impacts us forever. For the staff, we are just another woman, just another birth. But it isn’t just another birth from this side. We remember forever.

                I take credit for Emily’s birth. I refused induction, I waited as long as possible to come in, I signed the AMA papers, and I pushed her out. That still, four years later, feels so good to say. I PUSHED HER OUT! But you came to me when I was weak. You were kind to me, and you gave me strength. That’s just how it should be, but so often isn’t. So I thank you. Your words of kindness changed my life, and I will be forever grateful to you. Thank you. Thank you! THANK YOU! From the bottom of my heart.

Lexi Diaz 

Reflections on Lauren's Birth- And more Pictures!

Lauren is TWO today! I can't believe it's been two years since she was born. Her birth was the most amazing birth I could possibly have imagined. Everything went exactly how I had wanted it to go. There were tiny things, like the meconium, but those things didn't end up important to the story at all. The things that were important to me- my perfect birth list, if you will- went like this:

Labor between six and eight hours- check. While the time from first contraction to birth was about 14 hours, I wasn't in active labor until six hours before she was born, almost to the minute!

Labor surrounded by people who love and support me- check. While I planned so many support people so they could work in shifts, it worked out that everyone got to be there when Lauren was born!

Labor without interruption with "medical" things (no cervical checks, no one telling me how to push, etc.)- check. I had heart tones checked once or twice (at my request) and reminders to breathe while I was pushing. Otherwise, as far as interference goes, I might as well have been alone. That's a good thing!

Touch the baby's head as it was crowning- check.

Chris catches- check. Made his year, too!

Chris discovers the sex of the baby- check.

Skin-to-skin with baby- check.

Maddie was there- check.

Emily sleeping upstairs- check.

Baby latches on to nurse all by herself- check.

I know it might seem odd, checking a checklist for a birth, but that's how it felt to me when I thought about it in the days and weeks after. I really had made a list, a set of preferences I wanted my birth helpers to know I wanted. And it really felt like almost every one had been checked off. It was beautiful.

I don't really have the words to explain how Lauren's birth, and her life, have changed me. She is absolutely, without doubt, a gift from God. She is the most joyful, amazing, cheerful little girl. In her first weeks of life, she cried less than ten minutes total. She smiled at two days and laughed by a week. And hasn't stopped. We have our moments, of course, but she is very easygoing and not much bothers her. Which is good with two older sisters!

And now, pictures!!

The placenta, and the true knot in the cord that somehow didn't make it into her birth story!

Getting weighed! Her cord still wasn't clamped or cut at this point, and she's at least an hour old.

Emily came down to join us! She's just a baby herself. She'll be two in six days in this picture.

Meeting their baby sister for the first time.

Daddy bonding with the baby while Mommy gets cleaned up. The girls were back in bed.

And, my birthday girl!

Not the best picture, but all she was willing to sit still.  

Cassandra's Birth Story

My friend Cass' birth story with her third baby Rosalind. A wonderful UBAC! Enjoy!


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My first son was a c-section, I went to 42 weeks, I was very culturally normal in my views about birth to the detriment of my body.

My second son was a vbac in a hospital with LOTS of interventions. I started on my path with this pregnancy towards what I hope will someday be a life filled with babies and bellies. I wanted something different but lacked the courage to take the plunge and I found very few people to help me. 

This is my third baby, she was born at home, caught by my husband in our spare bedroom. 

She was born at 43 weeks gestation, I am sure of my dates and my other two children were both induced because I went over 42 weeks. its is NORMAL for my body to gestate babies longer than the average women. Even average is debatable because we induce almost everyone in this country. 

I woke up around 2:30 am with contractions. They were strong but not bad at all. I had to breathe through them but I was happy they were finally here. They were like 5-7mins apart but I did very little clock looking pretty much this whole labor. I knew I wasn’t on a time table so I just didn’t care. I tried to sleep, I wanted to sleep, and I could have easily in the beginning except my 2.5 yr old son would cry in his sleep each time I had a contraction. It was the most bizarre thing, like his body new what was happening in mine. I got up and stayed up from about then on because there seemed no point in trying. (I should have kept trying!) My hubby got up around 4:30 to get ready for work and I told him today was most likely the day but they were really manageable and I was feeling like it was still far off. He left at 5:45 and I got a knock on the door at 6:05 and they had sent him home (hooray!) so besides being happy I was feeling pressure to perform which is not good for me so I just tried to ignore it. Around 7 am I woke up my mom who was staying with us and let her know what was going on. More contractions and around 8 am I called my midwife and told her I was in labor and all that jazz. (my midwife was sort of a backup I intended on keeping her in the loop but I wanted to do this by myself)Around 9 my mom left with my kids to my grandma’s house to go swimming and give me and the hubby some time. We went to a trail to go hiking and help labor proceed. The trail was gorgeous I got to show my hubby tons of wildflowers and soon-to-be-ripening berries, wild honeysuckle and all sorts of neat stuff. We took a really hilly steep trail and I would stop every few minutes and hold onto him and do hip movements from belly dance (if you perform at all it will be a big help to you during labor). We did this for about an hour and a half and headed home.When I got there I saw Anne (the MW) had called like 3 times so I rang her back and she said she was in town and she had to leave for work at 1:30 (she is an R.N. at a local hospital as well) so would I like her to come see how things are going and if we were gonna maybe have this baby by then. I said Yes but I was sorta not ok with it because me and Matt (the DH) had planned on having some intimate time and then showering together and nipple stim to help move things along and so it impeded on that. Anne arrived and asked if I wanted to be checked and I said sure why not. I was 6cm and all that so I was like woot! My Grandma called at this time and Matt answered and told her and she said that she, my ma, and the kids were on their way (a 40 minute drive) I could not for the life of me get this because my grandma did not wanna be here for birth and I did not want anyone their that was negative. So between my unexpected MW and my grandma I totally stalled. Nothing. Going. On. At. All. My contractions spaced out to like 3-4 an hour till my mom and grandma and midwife finally all left at like 12:30 Once they left me and the hubs went and laid down and focused on just being together That really got things going and I had a couple strong contractions during. Afterwards I hopped in the shower for a looooooooooooooooong time and did tons of nipple stimulation (that helps with contractions if you don't know already).Around 2pm I finally got out of the shower and had Matt fill up the birth tub. I got in and it felt great. The contractions weren’t coming at what I thought was fast enough (little did I know my contractions never did pick up to what a normal labor should be) so I would do nipple stim till I could feel one coming and then stop right away cuz they would be really intense. It wasn’t till this point that I really thought for sure this kid is coming today. This is also where my contractions went from contractions I had felt before to really odd horrible nerve pain coming from all over. If someone would touch the wrong area it would shoot into that area. It felt nothing like the period-like cramps I had always associated with real contractions (this is my 3rd baby folks so I am still at a loss wth these were) when she finally did come out her cone was slightly angled so my best guess is asynclintic presentation maybe? She was anterior and I did not tear at all so who knows? I have no time frame for the rest of this. The contractions were pretty hard to manage at this point so I got out of the pool and was gonna try and lay down. I went in the bedroom and laid there and almost screamed as the first contraction hit. I yelled for Matt to get in here now and tried to get on my feet mid contraction and sorta accomplished that. I was exhausted from not sleeping and I knew then that till I birthed this kid I was gonna stay pretty damn tired. My mom, grandma, and kids came back (Matt had told my mom just herself to come but that didn’t happen) and my oldest was so excited (we had been planning on having him stay with us for the birth) he was on me like glue but the contractions were so strong I couldn’t be touched and so I kept saying I was sorry to him but he couldn’t touch me My friend Emma stopped over not realizing I was in labor, I am so thankful. Emma had delivered 4 kids naturally in a hospital so she was able to offer a ton of good advice in the thick of it (rolling pin on my lower back saved my life thanks to her) More contractions. Things going crazy. I cried in the bathroom and that felt good to release it all. The only way I can get through a contraction is standing and laying my head and my hand on the wall and sticking out my butt or sitting on the toilet and bracing the walls with my arms. I switch those 2 positions when one of them gets unbearable. I had matt refill our birth pool again because I wanted HOT water. I laid in it and the contractions slowed for a bit. My mom was worried cuz she wants to know how dialated I am so I tell Matt to call Lexi (my friend who is in school for midwifery and I trust her with my life) and my mom and her talk while I labor in the tub. In between contractions Lex tells my mom about how there can be a line from the vagina to the anus that can show dialation sometimes and my mom checks and says it looks like the line is there. I talk to lexi on the phone while in the tub and she listens to 2 contractions where I start making really deep guttural sounds and it feels so good to make them!!! Like blessed relief. She says “Cass you gotta stop focusing on your kids and talking to people and go deep inside yourself. There is only a handful of contractions left” (talking to her now she was so mad at herself for saying that because she would have felt horrible had she been wrong but it just popped out and welllll she wasn’t wrong) Lexi was my Godsend and I realigned my thinking and got off the phone with her feeling better.The next contraction hits and I’m like “OMG it’s the ring of fire! It’s the ring of fire!” no one around me even knows what that means cuz they don’t read birth stuff like I do but I was so thankful and so shocked. So my grandma decides to take the kids to the park cuz they are bouncing around excited like wild cavemen. The next contraction hits and I am like get me out of this water, I cant be In it I cant push like this, So I make it through that one and walk to my spare bedroom and try side lying and it feels horrible. I can't push, I tried for 2 contractions and everytime I try to push its like horrible shooting nerve pain that makes no sense to me.(upon doing research I really believe foetal ejection reflex was the reason I could not make my body push as it was already pushing instinctively) Pushing is the relief and yet my body won’t even let me push. I try one more contraction and my water breaks and drenches my husband (he is still a bit traumatized lol!) I get on the floor on my hands and knees and it feels a bit better. The next contraction her head comes out a bit and sucks in my family is like NO NO NO and I am like people stfu this is normal and good. leave me alone (Lexi was on the phone during this and was like you said this so calm I couldn’t believe it but I wasn’t calm it just sounded like it) I think once more her head came half out and went back in and on the next contraction hear head was out and I thought I was ripped in friggin half. With the next contraction I remember yelling at matt to pull her out cuz OMG it didn’t actually hurt but I thought my body was going to break in two pieces. Her body sorta flew out and Emma said she cried before her shoulders were even fully birthed. Daddy caught her so that was pretty nifty. She had a knot in her cord which was cool. The last birth I attended (Lexi’s awesome HBAC) her daughter had a knot as well so I was like WOW two in a row! I expelled a ton of clots right before the placenta came out and I have had very light PP bleeding so I don’t know if that has anything to do with it. I cut the cord myself after I delivered the placenta. And yeah so that’s her story. I did not tear even though she was 10lb.s and 21.5 inches long. Her named is Rosalind.

Training!

I'm really excited! This weekend I signed up for Karen Strange's Neonatal Resuscitation Course for later this month. I also signed up for an AAMI Midwifery Skills Lab in October! Can't wait!