I know that my story isn't really unique, but the pain is so real, even now. So real that tears are streaming down my face as I write it. I also know that my story isn't the worst one out there, but it's still been a difficult road for me, personally. I know that even in all of this, I still have so much to be thankful for.
First and foremost, let me make known the reason behind sharing this story is that I desperately want to help a mom who feels the same as I do. I want her to know that she is seen and loved and her pain is felt. It's valid. Its heart-wrenching. It's ok to cry about it! It's ok to feel what you're feeling.
And if this isn't you, I hope and pray that this story will change how you view mamas like me. We aren't weak. We aren't wrong. We tried our best. We may not be like you, but saying the thoughtless things you say about "natural birth" hurts us and cuts us more deeply than you can imagine. Yes, we tried that suggestion. Yes we knew that method. But it didn't work for us. We already deal with feelings of failure on our own, we don't need to be reminded of painful failures.
I so badly want to be seen as strong and capable and confident. It probably stems from being the youngest child in a big family, I don't know. But sharing the weak parts of my life are hard for me. Very hard.
I don't want to be pitied. I don't want others to think ill of me, or see me as a negative person. But sometimes, in order to truly connect with others these vulnerable parts have to be shown. So that's the goal here. Connecting with the women who have felt or feel like I do. Letting the women that can't relate see how sometimes your stories make us feel ashamed. And we know you don't mean it, but we can't contribute to the "natural birth" conversation in the same way, and it brings shame, pain, and regret for us mamas.
My story starts almost 11 years ago with my first born babe. Man, I was so young. Just 19 and having baby #1. She was a honeymoon baby and at first I was devastated when I found out I was pregnant, but after awhile, it became the most exciting thing ever. I wanted to be a mom more than anything else. Maybe not get married, but I did want to be a mom, lol. (Inside joke)
The only birth experiences I had ever known at this point were those of my mom and sisters. My mom had 4 c-sections. Her doctors told her in the 80s that her pelvis was too narrow and she wouldn't be able to have babies vaginally. She always expressed to me that she would've wanted more if this wasn't the case. But, she went ahead and got her tubes tied with me because of the doctors recommendation.
My sister's birth stories varied. One of my sisters had her baby naturally in a birthing center, but it was a hard labor. She pushed for hours. Two of my other sisters ended up having c-sections due to pre-eclampsia. One of my sisters had both vaginal and c-section births. I didn't know this then, but my grandma (on my mom's side) also had a couple c-sections.
Anyway, I thought I was strong. Strong enough to go without pain meds. Strong enough to push this baby out, no way would I need a cesarean birth. I went to the birthing classes and breastfeeding classes. I did all the things I was told to do.
Then my bp started to rise and my doctor recommended induction. I thought, "Sure, why not? Let's get this baby out!". So I was induced the next day. Everything was going ok until the contractions were back to back without a rest between. It was all back labor.
I knew I needed something for the pain, so I consented to an epidural. I was dilated to a 5 by that point so I figured it would be smooth sailing from here on out. Well, soon after the epidural, my body stopped having contractions. An hour later, nothing.
My doctor recommended c-section. With all of the birth story knowledge I had, I thought, "Well, I must be like my mom." And consented to it. Knowing what I now know, I probably would've said "No."
Anyway, Ruby was born via c-section that afternoon. It wasn't a bad experience, overall. My mom and sisters were there to help and support me. Ruby came out with a little ring around her head where she was pushed up against my cervix, but it wasn't dilating.
Then, came time for my second birth, with my son. It was 2 years later and in a different state. I was told I was a good candidate for VBAC, until he felt my pelvis. He said I was "too small". Since they told my mom the same, I didn't question it. My second son was born via c-section in 2011. That was probably my hardest recovery, but still, I was ok.
5 years later, I finally got pregnant with my second daughter. This time, I had educated myself. I knew the risks of a third c-section. I knew the risks of VBA2C. I did my research for a VBAC friendly doctor. I worked out religiously that pregnancy. I ate right. I drank the raspberry tea and ate all the dates. I talked with my friends who were experts in vaginal birthing. I had the mindset of "I AM HAVING a VBAC!"
I FINALLY went into prodormal labor with her, a week late and I was scheduled for an induction the next day, so I went ahead and went in. I was only at a 1 when I arrived. By the next morning I was at a 2 and they started pitocin. Contractions and pain picked up, but I didn't care I was determined. But man, I was so tired. Almost 24 hours had passed, my water broke, and I finally got checked. Expecting to see dilation, I was only at a 3.
I was crushed.
What had I done wrong? Just last week my midwife said her head was engaged, now nothing? I've bounced in the ball, I've walked, I've done allllllll the things right.
I finally consented to an epidural because I just wanted to rest and my midwife assured me that when this happened to others she knew, an epidural helped them relax and their cervix dilated.
I had the epidural done and I went into a panic. I for sure thought I was having another c-section...I felt trapped. I was scared. I wanted to run away and I couldn't move. Finally, they calmed me down and I was able to rest.
A couple hours later I was checked and nothing. No dilation. I was ready to give up. My midwife had a heart to heart with me.
"Why are you so against having another c-section?", she asked. "BECAUSE! I WANT MORE BABIES!", I cried. "Having another c-section doesn't mean you can't have more babies", she said. "I've known some women who have eight or nine of them! Some women's cervixes just don't work properly. You are narrow and I think the baby just isn't able to come down."
I can't even explain the hurt, pain, and shame I felt in that moment. And to see my husband standing beside me, tears streaming down his face, too, because he was scared for me, was frightening.
He and I prayed and I felt total peace about the repeat section. I don't remember much about it because I was super drugged up. I could feel pain beforehand, so they gave me more pain meds.
Freya was born that night and she was perfect and beautiful. I was the most exhausted from that birth experience, but also had the best recovery.
When I found out I was pregnant with my fourth baby, our second son, I was so scared. Worried about what others would think if I tried for a VBAC again and unsure of my ability to birth, I scheduled my fourth c-section. Honestly, during the whole first trimester, I was out of it. I had a really hard time coming to terms with this pregnancy, since it wasn't planned. That is hard for me to admit, but it's true.
By the third trimester, I started to get excited about this new baby, but I still had a lot of fear in my mind and heart. It took giving it to God DAILY for me to be able to function and not be frozen with fear and anxiety.
I prayed Every. Single. Day. that God would allow me to spontaneously go into labor and have a natural birth, even if that meant staying home to avoid the hospital. I had some early signs of labor, but nothing progressed.
I went in on May 9th and had a beautiful baby boy. As soon as they laid him on my chest, I knew he was meant to be here. But that c-section was hard and long. I kept asking if they were done yet. My bp dropped and I was given something to raise my bp, probably adrenaline. I was scared and I felt the pain in my abdomen during it.
Relief flooded my heart and mind when they were wheeling me out of the OR with the baby on my chest. He even latched the minute we got into our room! I knew I wasn't totally out of the woods, but I had survived the surgery!
The days passed and I recovered, just as quickly and easily as before. But my doctor told me something scary this time.
First, she started with a question, "Are you planning on having more babies?". "I don't know", I replied. "This may be my last one." "Good", she said. "It took us awhile in the OR because it was hard to put your uterus back together. Imagine sewing together tissue paper." 😳
I was shocked when she said that. Shocked, scared, worried. "Will I be ok?" "You should be fine if you don't have anymore, but stretching it again with a pregnancy would be very risky."
When she said that, I felt upset and defeated. Someone just told me that I shouldn't have any more babies. Ever. That it was too risky. That my body couldn't do it. I felt like my body failed me. My doctors failed me. My mind failed me. I failed.
That baby of mine is turning two in a few months and I feel SO blessed to be able to be here with him and my other three children, but sometimes, my heart still aches.
It aches because I know that I would want more children. My husband would want more children. We love babies and cherish our kids more than anything else! When we got married, we agreed that we would have TEN kids, haha!
And here I am, feeling like I have a body and mind that failed me. Could I have more kids without risking my life? I don't know. Is it a risk I'm willing to take? I don't know.
But do I want more? Yes! And it hurts to think that that door may be closed to me forever. If it were up to me, I would stay barefoot and pregnant for a few more years, at least. It's ok if you don't get that, but that's what I would love. Babies are precious and a gift and I LOVED the time I was able to nurse them and rock them to sleep.
And if you're a mama that feels like I do, it's ok to feel that way! You're not alone. I hear you and I see you. I want you to know that YOU ARE NOT A FAILURE.
Even though I felt like my body failed, my doctors failed, everything failed, my birth stories are not stories of failure. They are stories of triumph. My babies were born safely and that was the goal. They were brought into this world and God sustained us the whole way. God is the hero of this story.
He may not have answered my prayers like I wanted, but He kept me and each baby safe until delivery. His grace gave me strength to recover. His mercy was shown to me time and time again. And now I can count myself blessed to have had to fully rely on His strength in those weak moments.
I still rely on His strength now, to give me comfort in the times when I feel hurt by listening to others talk about their stories because mine was so different. I rely on His strength for understanding when I want to question "why me?". I rely on Him to ease the silent pain that I feel in these quiet moments of longing for more children.
Now the big question: Will I ever have more babies? I don't know. Clearly, its complicated. But what I do know is IF we do choose to have more, I know that no matter what anyone else thinks, God will get us through it. Even if I it defies human logic, He will sustain us through every storm. That, I know for sure.
XO
D
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