When We Know Better, We Do Better

I was saddened to hear of the death of Maya Angelou this morning. I remember being about 12 years old when I first read "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings", I was completely mesmerized by her words and my own emotions that her words brought out in me. I laughed, I cried, I closed my eyes periodically to let the thoughts and images sink in. That summer I devoured everything I could that she had ever written, trying to commit the best parts to memory.  I didn't know it at the time, but her words would later give me permission to forgive myself and start an emotional healing process that my family  so desperately needed.

After the birth of my 3rd child I suffered from post partum depression. His birth was a repeat cesarean and the memory of it just didn't sit right with me. In fact I hated it. Everything about his birth felt cold and detached. An amazing labor and delivery nurse wanted to put him on my chest for some skin to skin while I was being sewn up, but sadly it was the most awkward thing with him falling into my neck since my arms were still strapped down. After his birth there was a cascade of failures- my scar got infected, I went back to work too soon, we struggled at breastfeeding until giving up at 4 months, my house was a wreck, I didn't send my deployed husband holiday themed care packages like the other wives, my preteen and I fought daily, I didn't pay enough attention to my toddler- I really could go on forever. Eventually I started feeling a little better and became functional, but never really bounced back. 

At about 18 months post partum we found out we were pregnant again. In doing research for a possible VBAC, I learned of everything I did wrong with my second child that set me on a path for an unnecessary cesarean birth. I did nothing to prepare for his birth, I already had a birthed a baby, so I never even thought to read a book about the birth let alone take a class. I had my membranes stripped at 37 weeks because an ultrasound showed him to already be over 8 pounds (he came out 6.15 by the way), my waters broke that night and I immediately went to the hospital, I was put on pictocin because I wasn't progressing fast enough and hooked up to every machine imaginable, epidural soon followed, decelerated heart rate for baby, and BOOM instant cesarean. 

I was so angry with myself for not knowing any better and for not putting in any actual thought into the birth of my babies. I was so angry with myself for immediately turning down a midwife during my 3rd pregnancy who asked if I considered a VBAC. I was angry at myself for failing at breastfeeding. I was angry at myself for not knowing that it was okay to reach out for help when I needed it. Most of all I was angry for letting my family suffer for so long. 

I was absolutely terrified that I would fail at motherhood yet again. I ended up on a blog/Facebook page called Birth Without Fear, one day I happened upon a status from BWF with the Maya Angelou quote that they often use, "When we know better, we do better". It hit me that I couldn't change the past. I couldn't bring back those magical first moments I longed for. All I could do was learn everything I could to do better this time. We bought books, watched birthing videos, read studies and blogs, even enrolled in birthing classes as 4th time parents! I was finally able to forgive myself and heal myself and in turn my family. I went into my 4th birth surrounded in peace that if I was to have another cesarean it would truly be needed this time. We ended up with a very successful VBA2C, are quickly approaching a year of successful breastfeeding, and are a much happier (and healthier) family overall. 

Do I still get down on myself sometimes? Yes of course. I get fleeting thoughts of my son's eczema or Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD) symptoms possibly being tied to his birth. Do I dwell on that? Absolutely not. I am at peace with all of my births and have used my past to fuel my doula passion. I work to empower women to research and make the best decisions for their families. I am organizing an Improving Birth rally in my town to educate local women on their birthing choices and in working with La Leche League to start a chapter here. I know better, therefore I now do better. 

Thank you Maya Angelou. May you rest in peace and may your words keep inspiring generations to come. God bless you and your beautiful soul. 

The birth of Lilliana Rosalie (a successful hospital VBA2C)

It has been 9 months since the birth of my Lilliana. I have told her birth story many times since, but have had trouble sitting down, piecing everything together, and letting all my thoughts/emotions flow. Some of the times may be off, but this is how we remember it. 

After 3 nights of prodomal labor, I woke up on the morning of June 1st and just knew today was the day. I had sporadic contractions throughout the day, but that evening they continued to get stronger and closer together. We called my mother in law to come stay with the kids (3 hour drive) and gave my doula the heads up that I was in early labor. 

The only hospital that would "allow me" (more on that in later posts) to attempt a Trial of Labor After Cesarean (TOLAC) was over an hour away in Lake Charles. We knew we were in for a long night so we decided to eat a big meal at the casino and walk the pier for a few hours to stay relaxed. It was a nice little date night right before the big event. My contractions were starting to get more intense, but I was still handling them very well. Our plan was to rent a hotel close to the hospital to do a majority of the labor portion in and get admitted to the hospital right before the end. In theory this was a great plan, but our luck wouldn't allow anything to be that easy. Since it was a weekend there were no hotels available in the whole city of Lake Charles because the casinos bring so many people from Texas and surrounding cities during the weekend. Every. Single. Room. Was. Booked. Driving around in the car was becoming more and more uncomfortable with every contraction. My contractions were starting to become irregular and I was feeling anxiety about my labor possibly stalling out. We tried sleeping at the beach, but I was having such a hard time getting comfortable in our minivan. 

Finally around 10:30 am we were able to get into a hotel room after the previous guests checked out. I was able to relax, take a shower, nap for a few hours. I called my doula and we decided on a 2:30 meetup at Target to walk around and see if we could guess how far into labor I was. We walked around the store, stopping for contractions, and getting tons of strange looks. After about an hour or so of this I was having a hard time getting into a good labor groove and decided I wanted to be at the hospital. 

We went to the labor and delivery triage for monitoring and a cervical check. They confirmed I was in labor, but only about 3cm dilated. They wanted to admit me, but since I was a VBA2C I required constant fetal monitoring, IV, blood pressure, an intra uterine pressure catheter, and would in turn be stuck in the bed. The on call doctor was not happy about a VBAC patient, and relayed through the nurses that my chances were very slim. This was everything I didn't want, so my husband decided we should leave. I am so thankful that he made that decision, because at that point I was okay with staying right there. We signed out Against Medical Advice (AMA) and let them know I would be back when I was further along in labor to give me the best chance for a successful VBAC. 

Since our hotel room was about 25 minutes away, we decided the best option for us was to stick close to the hospital. We walked the halls and labored out front of the hospital for roughly 5 hours. Yes, I was out in front of the hospital, squatting, breathing, and dancing through my contractions. The looks we were getting from people coming into the hospital were priceless! We scared many a first time moms and hospital visitors. 

We went back into the hospital around 8:30 PM when I was having trouble controlling my body. I was leaking fluid, throwing up, and having a hard time standing on my own. They immediately gave us a room without having to go through triage again. As soon as I walked in the room I felt like the tub was where I needed to be, so I stripped off my clothes and got right in. It is so funny since I am normally the type of person who would never do such a thing. My husband ran interference with the hospital staff for me. He kept my birth space peaceful, positive, and free of medical procedures and interventions. The nurses came in periodically and checked my vitals and used the Doppler to check Lilliana's heart rate, but were respectful of our wishes. 

This portion of labor was a bit of a blur for me. I mainly just wanted to be in the tub and keep to myself. The best way for me to describe this time would be that I was in and out of this world. My thoughts were very sporadic and random. I went from points where I thought I couldn't do this to incredible moments of clarity. I sang hymnals to myself and tried to repeat my birth affirmations. I told my husband and my doula that the baby was never coming. I'm not sure if it was a dream or a hallucination, but at one point I thought I already had Lilliana and even heard her cry. The biggest thing I remember was the thought that I needed this and failure was not an option. I needed this healing birth for myself, my babies, and most of all I needed to have a successful all natural VBAC to make it easier for every woman that would come after me that wanted a VBAC. In my mind I had to fight for this so someone else wouldn't have to. This thought kept me going at my low points. 

I was absolutely exhausted by this point. I wasn't sure if I could physically keep going. I started rationalizing to myself all the interventions that could help bring the baby sooner. All the things I didn't want because I knew they lessened my chance of a successful VBAC suddenly seemed like a great idea and necessary. My husband and doula were prepared for this moment and saved the day. My doula coached my husband to remind me of all the reasons why I wanted this so bad, of all the preparation for this day, and all the fighting I had to do to even get here. He reminded me how much I hated the fact that I was so drugged up that I didn't remember my boys being born. I sobbed, and when I say sobbed I mean I ugly cried. That was exactly what I needed and all of a sudden I felt a renewed sense of the purpose. Within about 20 minutes my water broke and it was time to push. 

I climbed into the bed into a modified hands and knees position purely based on my own instinct. A nurse checked me and declared I was 7cm dialated. I couldn't believe it! I felt so defeated. Another nurse didn't believe it, rechecked me, and said I was complete. Turns out the first nurse didn't know how to check the dialation of a woman not on her back. They called the doctor in and I rested my head for a minute. When everyone was set up I pushed when I felt the urge. There was such a sense of peacefulness. No one counted or told me when to push. The hospital staff just watched and waited respectfully. I never felt the dreaded 'Ring of Fire' and actually think it felt good to push away all that pressure that I felt while laboring. I pushed for about 30 minutes and my Lilliana Rosalie was born at 4:20 am weighing 8 pounds 6 oz. I got my VBA2C! On my terms! 

It felt incredible. It is now 9 months later and I am still on my birth high. I am absolutely in love with our wild ride of a birth story and most of all the fierce little girl it brought into our lives. The frustration, the fighting for my rights, the crying in the car after OB appointments, the sleepless nights filled with research, the preparation- all worth it.