The birth of Kane Michael
"I didn't really feel like making you bacon and eggs this morning. But I thought instead I'd make you another baby......"
That was the beginning of the end of life as we knew it, as a family of three. After the traumatic induction-turned-c/section delivery of our first son Axel, I already had decided I was going to VBAC.
The pregnancy was fairly uneventful health wise. I had no GD this time, gained about the same amount of weight (bloody heaps... lol) and the only different part was dealing with my anxieties surrounding hospitals and birth. After a few dodgy appointments with midwives and OBs I wasn't a fan of, I made a bit of a fuss, and spoke to the head of the antenatal dept for the first time. It was the best thing I ever did. She introduced me to a support group for mothers facing their next birth after caesarean, or NBAC. I liked it because the focus wasn't so much on VBAC specifically, it was just a supportive place for those who had a sucky experience last time and wanted to debrief.
I met a wonderful couple of ladies there, and was also introduced to my student midwife, Julie. Julie was that shining light I needed through all the fear and the fighting towards the end of my pregnancy. I knew when I met her that she'd be perfect to be there at the birth. I called her my loyal sidekick, and she trained me for battle very well, it seems.
Time ticked by painfully...... I didn't want to go post dates as the drs were already so antsy about the whole fiasco last time that their faces just screamed 'failure! failure! book for another c/s and get out of my office!'. As I passed 41 weeks the pressure was really on to induce. At 41+3 I relented and accepted a stretch and sweep. I was tired, and figured it was the least risky thing I could do in the hopes of pushing this agonizing 3 week prelabour experience into full blown labour. The sweep hurt. I cried, and felt a little bit of myself kind of being squashed... doubt was creeping up again.
I'd had many nights of false starts, but after the sweep, things were different. I had three nights of intense contractions, which would always fizzle and not progress. I was starting to lose it. My evenings were spent huddled in the shower, or the bathtub with candles burning, trying to keep calm and remember that I was waiting for a good reason. Finally I reached the end of the road when DPs support started to dwindle.
[posting now in case I'm interrupted...... to be continued!]
So we talked alternative plans. Options for induction that I could live with. He said he didn't want to push me into something I would blame him for later, but I knew it was time to do something. Once I reached 42 weeks the hospital was pretty much going to be making life very difficult for me. So we made a plan. I was supposed to have CTG monitoring again that afternoon, but instead we decided to head in that morning and have another stretch and sweep done. Then possibly a foley catheter, and or AROM if things were favourable and it felt right. I felt deflated, and resigned myself to the fact that this birth was going to be more medicalised than I wanted. But it wasn't about what I wanted anymore.
We called our babysitter, and started gathering our bags and things. I decided to do the dishes to try to get things moving. I loaded up the dishwasher with cyclonic force... lol. I mean I powered through that kitchen. Almost immediately I was having sporadic contractions again, but they felt different. More intense. I figured I was on my way to hospital anyway so sat down to feel sorry for myself. Within minutes, I shifted in my seat to get up again and POP. I looked at DP. "Ahhhh.......... did I just pee?" He looked alarmed. "I think my waters just broke!" I jumped up and rushed to the toilet. By the time I got there, I was leaking a bit with each step. Yep.. definitely at least a hind water leak. It was clear. I was relieved!
Not long after, our babysitter arrived and we sent our big boy Axel on his way knowing when we saw him again he'd be a big brother. I didn't cry..... just blew him a kiss and stood in the driveway swaying through contractions, my waters gushing pretty much everywhere by that point. (side-note...... invest in good maternity pads. I was grateful for spending the extra money at this point :rofl: )
[to be continued again!]
We arrived at the hospital around 10am. My student Julie arrived not long after we'd been settled into a room. No VE was performed, but straight away the MW was talking about hooking me up to the CTG and getting a cannula in. I said no to the cannula, go ahead with the CTG. It was hard to cope with contractions whilst just lying there, so I got up. It was still hard just standing there beside the bed, stuck. There was quite a lull between arriving, and tightenings starting up again, and I started to worry.
It was established that yes I was having contractions, and things looked ok. So I was free to get off the CTG. I hopped in the shower and that's where things really picked up speed. The hot water was DELIGHTFUL. I called out to DP and said I wanted an apple. Because, you know, that's what you do.......... you eat fruit in the shower. :) I swayed and rocked and enjoyed my apple for a while, until I was ready to get out. As soon as I was out, they were chasing me with the CTG again. Annoying, but I figured since I was still coping well I'd allow it. I think they really jumped on any opportunity.... like if I looked like going near the bed, they were asking to put it back on.
This is the part where I wished I'd said no. Apparently bubby's HR was a little elevated. 160bpm. High, but within normal range. Mine was also elevated. They took my temp. 37.6. FEVER! (hardly!) I could see the MW in charge wanting to just jump all over me with interventions. She got the doctor. They told me that I needed a cannula and to have IV fluids hooked up. I asked if I could try paracetamol first, as well as drinking plenty of fluids and relaxing, and then to re-assess in an hour or so. I also agreed to stay on the monitors while we did this. They agreed. I remember looking to Julie and her saying "The only reason they go straight for the IV is because it's here and they can. What do you do at home when you have a temp? You don't rush for an IV..." I love her lol.
An hour-ish later, and they took my temp again. It was 36.4. Both of our HRs had settled and things were looking good. However, after all the drama and strange people interrupting.... I'd stalled. No more contractions for a couple of hours. We did a VE. I was still only 2cm, as I had been after having the stretch and sweep the other day. I was less than thrilled. I also knew they wouldn't want me to go home with ruptured membranes. I kind of wish I had just gone home anyway.....
A nice MW came in to see me and said she'd spoken to the drs and negotiated to have me put on the ward to wait it out for a while, rather than doing anything to intervene. I figured this was the best option I was going to get, so I went with that. DP and I popped out to get some late lunch/dinner, and then I settled into my room for what would be a very long night.
I was in a room of 4, with one bed spare. The other two women had babies, which inevitably cry. One of them liked to cry a lot. It turns out so did I! Every time I'd wake in pain with a contraction I'd try to breathe through it silently, and not make too much noise to disturb the others. How you're supposed to labour like that is beyond me. I felt bruised in the belly after so many nights of contractions but no babies coming out my vagina :rofl: I was just over it. I buzzed a MW and had a little sob. I told her I couldn't cope in this tiny cubicle any longer (it was 1.30am now on Friday) and that I needed some towels or something so I could hide in the shower. She took pity on me, and said there was a spare birth suite and to head on in there for some privacy.
I was so grateful I cried. I went straight into birth suite, cranked up the hot shower, turned off all the lights and put some random relaxation music on. I took a couple of panadine forte and tried to just chill out. It only took about 20 minutes for things to get started again properly. I found myself wanting to get out of the shower and lie down while I could. I hopped on the bed, curled up on my side and surfed the net. (as you do? lol) I knew it was still only early as I was able to do all these things in between contractions. By about 3am I'd lost interest and focus on my phone. I was breathing really heavily and felt a bit strange and disconnected.. this was it. Finally!
Within another hour I was 'mooing' and groaning through contractions. Using my trusty contraction timer, I realised they were 3-5mins apart. The MW came in about 4am and I showed her my timings. She offered me the gas, and I accepted. DP was still at home sleeping, and I decided not to bother him until almost 5 if I could help it. He gets his cranky pants on when he's tired and I knew this was going to be a marathon event.
[TO BE CONTINUED AGAIN]
Thanks for your patience, everyone... lol.
............... I called DP and asked him to head in soon, and to be here by 6am, then I get back to the business of sucking back that gas. Mid-contraction I look up and suddenly DP is there. "You're early!" I say. :rofl: He looked very handsome after a good nights rest. I can only imagine what state I was in. It was around this point I started working on the MW to let me in the bathtub. It took some persuading, but eventually she agreed to fill it up. The warm water was amazing. I could've stayed in there forever. DP and I laughed and chatted in between contractions, and I thought things were going pretty well. This is about where things started to get a bit screwed up.
The MW comes in and announces I need to have a cannula. (again with the cannula!) I say no, I like it in the bath, and can she crank up the gas please? Lol. She tries to argue with me but I just point to the gas, and she obliges. Then she comes back to tell me I need to get out of the bath for a VE. I tell her I'm not moving until my student gets here. She looks annoyed, but lets me do my thing. After about another half hour she starts to get antsy and keeps asking how far away my student is. I don't know, I'm in the bloody bath! Who cares! I tell her I'll get out soon. Eventually I can't stall her any longer so I hop out of the bath. I wish I didn't because I didn't get to get back in there again after that. I suppose I was lucky to get in there at all.
I submit to a VE to be told I'm still 2cm. I want to kick her in the face. I start to cry. DP tells me not to lose it, that it doesn't matter...... he's pretty good about it all. I jump up off the bed and hold onto the gas with one hand, and DP with the other. Finally my student Julie arrives, and I'm SO happy to see her. I greet her by announcing my nakedness. Lol. (during our antenatal appointments I told her she'd know it was 'on' when I stopped trying to cover my bits.) She hugged me and laughed, then helped me get back into my zone. It wasn't long before I was back in the shower, bouncing on a birth ball and going to town on that gas again. From here on it's all a bit of a blur.
There were many points I wanted to lose it. There were a lot of drs and MWs shoving CTG straps in my face and telling me I needed this and that. When Julie and the MW on duty (Michelle, she was also amazing) went for their break, a surgeon decided to let himself in and tell me how great an epidural would be for when I need a caesarean. I was f****** 2cm. What an idiot. I tried to pay attention to him, but I was ****ed off he'd just barged in, while I'm naked in the shower with DP sitting beside me. He didn't even have the courtesy to not speak to me during contractions. The only part I heard him say was "We should do it now before you end up with a brain-damaged baby..." I lowered the gas, opened my eyes and said "You need to leave my room right now". He kept talking, but I cut him off. "GO!" DP looked angry. This dude didn't hang around long.
Julie and Michelle came back shortly after and I kept yelling "Who the F let that A**hole in here?" "What the F was that?" They were both pretty mad and DP says Michelle went outside and had a go at the surgeon for being a douchebag. Time started to pass very quickly here. I was alternating between being on the toilet with the gas, in the shower with the gas, or strapped to the monitors on the bed, begging to go back in the shower. I had intended on declining any kind of CTG and having Doppler only, but bubby kept having episodes of tachycardia... and my temperature returned again. Eventually I had another VE, and was told I was still 2cm. I'd been in hard labour with contractions 3 mins apart for about 5-6 hours. I think this is where I realised it wasn't looking good, and I started to prepare myself for the c/s I didn't want. I remember throwing my hands over my face and just screaming F**********K!!!!! when they said I hadn't progressed. "Why are they coming on top of eachother and doing nothing?!" I was hysterical. I screamed and swore and DP and Julie tried to calm me down. Once I'd had that little release I looked at Julie and said "What can I do?" She told me to get up, and keep going. "Ok". I stood beside the bed. I got on all fours on the bed. I felt so much pressure and so pushy, but knew it was too soon. It was upsetting. I kept saying "I want to push" but I knew it wasn't right.
At some point in there I ended up with a cannula. I remember the doctor telling me I needed IV ABs and fluids to bring my temp down and bubby's HR. I knew if I didn't do it I was only jeopardizing my VBAC moreso, so I just went with it. She knew I wasn't happy about it, and kept waffling on. I snapped at her "Just shut up and do it if it's such an emergency!" And voila, I had a cannula.
{posting again JIC lol]
I don't remember much in clear order after that point. I was running out of coping tools. The bath was off limits. So was the shower whilst they were running the fluids. I was stuck on the toilet with the gas, feeling pretty trapped. I kept saying to Julie and DP that I needed to rest, and asking them to help me. "Why is nobody helping me?!" I kept yelling at them. I begged for morphine. I got the morphine. The morphine SUCKED. It did nothing to dull the pain, just made me limp between contractions. And caused bubby's HR to decel. I remember being told to change positions a lot. I was standing, bent over the bed.... I was on my side, it seemed to be helping but pretty soon I was back to not coping and I made the decision to have an epidural. I figured it was have the epidural and rest, or have the epidural and have a c/s. Either way, I could see they weren't going to let me go on much longer like that........... and kept hearing "Not even in active labour yet". I wanted to punch them all. Not in labour? No, my cervix just hates me.
I begged for the epidural for what seemed like hours. I think it was more like one. My support people did the right thing in trying to stall me. I knew they would do that which is why I asked so many times. I told them they'd know when I was serious, and they did. I was hiding out in the bathroom, quietly losing my mind when the anesthetists arrived. I think I ran to the bed. It took a lifetime for the block to start working. As soon as it did though, we were in trouble. Bubby's HR started to decel again, but wasn't recovering quickly enough. I knew it was big trouble when the dr came in. She held my hand, and said she needed to put a scalp monitor on to get an accurate reading, but that it wasn't looking very good for a VBAC. I cried and said no... but realised she wouldn't ask to do that unless she was trying to give me more time to labour. I quickly agreed and she said she was going to do another stretch and sweep to see if she could kick me along at the same time. I figured why not. She said I was 3-4cm. I cried with relief, but knew it was too late. Finally I start to progress.... only for bubby to be too tired to go on. I knew what was going to happen next.
She started to explain that it'd been 3 minutes and his HR was 80bpm. She said they watch for 3 mins, then another 3, and the last 3 are spent getting to the OR. She thrust a consent form at me. "I'm sorry" she said. I didn't care. I signed and said to DP "Whatever happens I trust you to make the right decisions for us." I suddenly realised how scared I was. This wasn't like last time... this was a real emergency.
Within 4 minutes I was on the table, cut open and DS2 was held up for me to catch a glimpse. I let out a loud sob as they took him away to work on him as he wasn't breathing. The silence at his birth was terrifying. At first I didn't realise what was going on I was deafened by my own racing heart. Suddenly I yelled out "Why isn't he crying? What's going on?" I was told everything was fine. "Why won't anyone tell me what's happening?" Again, I'm told everything is fine. Later DP tells me he was born purple, not breathing, and was resuscitated. It took 15minutes to stabilise him. He had a cannula in, and was intubated briefly. He also ended up with a feeding tube for the first night. I was relieved to hear his first squeaks and cries, eventually. Suddenly my fear of having a c/s didn't matter. I didn't care what they did to me, I was just glad my baby was alright. I couldn't believe how quickly things went from completely fine to near-disaster.
I spent about an hour in recovery with low BP. DP was up in the nursery with DS2. They wheeled me straight up in the bed to see my baby. I cried when I saw all the tubes and things stuck to him. I held him immediately. I wasn't able to feed him though. I finally let them take me to my room and I just laid there staring. I don't think I even cried. I can't remember anything except being woken during the night having my BP taken and taking painkillers.
It's all still such a blur, I don't know exact stats.... I do know his apgars were very low, and we'll need to see a paediatrician for 12mths to be sure he's alright. He was diagnosed with a pulmonary something, I can't even remember. My understanding is his lung was collapsed. Xrays have cleared him. It was also suspected the cause of his tachycardia was an infection in my uterus. chorio-something. Apparently those tests were negative for both of us though so I guess I'll never know. One thing I do know is that the morphine was the beginning of the end. I also feel it depressed his breathing at birth as it was given close to his delivery. I feel a bit bad that I don't have a clear picture of the days after his birth but I once again had a complicated recovery. This time I was blessed with paralyzed bowels. Which caused me to vomit bright green bile whether I ate and drank or not. By day 3 I was taking nothing more than panadol as I was too afraid..... every time I took a different drug I was told that was making me sick. Eventually though, we worked out I just really needed to fart. :redface: I have to chuckle at that, despite how unwell it made me at the time!
I don't have all the answers, and I don't have it all straight in my mind either. But to make a VERY long story short, Kane Michael F a c c I o n I was born at 1.30pm on Friday June 14 weighing 3990g (8lb12oz), with a full head of beautiful strawberry blonde hair. I like to think his hair is red because he too, just like Axel, was born through the fire and the flames. :)
I didn't get the birth I wanted, but I got the baby I wanted. I didn't get my VBAC, but I got my natural labour, and I kicked its a**.... :rofl: I could care less that I had to have another c/s, I don't feel a thing except love for my baby boy, and pride that I gave him 42 weeks of safety on the inside, followed by an empowered birth.
He was worth the fight.
After everything we've been through to get our two boys, we're finished now. DP had decided we were finished during the pregnancy anyway, but now I'm 100% sure as well. The dr asked me if I wanted more children. I said no, and she said that was good because when they made the incision, it extended pretty severely so another VBAC attempt would not be recommended. I wouldn't want to give birth without labouring, and I definitely don't want another c/s. So I'm done. I'm at peace with that, however it's always a little bit sad to be told you probably shouldn't have any more babies. I guess it's the end of that part of my life.
Thanks for reading, and sorry for rambling on forever!
