My 2Cs

My sons were both born via elective c-section. My first, Silas Fen, on March 26, 2007 at 40 weeks, 6 days due to "suspected macrosomia and cepholopelvic disproportion" which is a fancy way of saying he looked big. And he was big. But "big" is not a great reason to undergo major surgery, and though my instincts told me this, my smart, kind, doctor (whom I had no reason not to trust, right?) was nervous - nervous about the state of my cervix, the position of his head, the results of the 38 week ultrasound, the stats on shoulder distocia....and though my husband and I had been planning and practicing for a natural labor and birth, we took her advice. I waltzed into triage rested, showered, and contracting regularly and proceded to have a lovely c-section with kind nurses, great anesthesia, excellent surgeons, and good music. I was wheeled into recovery right behind a beautiful 11 lb, 4 oz. boy who nursed like a barracuda and had a sweet little ridge on his 16 inch head where it had been wedged against my pelvis. Actually, he had to be vacuumed out of the incision...first time the doctor had ever had to do that. I felt good about our decision. Sure, the recovery wasn't awesome, and I'd have preferred not to be on mega doses of oxycodine and motrin when nursing, but who knows what sort of hellish labor we might have had?

going to have a baby

new family in surgery

nursing and recovering

With my second son, Caleb, I decided to try for a TOLAC (Trial of Labor After Cesarean) hopefully leading to a VBAC (Vaginal Birth After Cesarean). Mostly I wanted to try to go into labor on my own and get to try all of the awesome techniques we'd gleaned from Birthing from Within and the Birth Partner. And I wanted to get to use my doula's expertise. Of all the OBs in the practice, mine was the most supportive of VBAC (as evidenced by one of her colleagues basically offering to cut the baby out of me when I went in for an exam at 37 weeks, yikes!)  but she was also the same OB I'd used previously; an amazing surgeon and a bit of a control freak. The hospital where I had delivered previously was one of the few in the area that allowed a trial of labor after a previous c-section, so I stuck with it, too. (This was 2009/2010 right before the ACOG guidelines on VBAC loosened up a bit.)

When it came right down to it, I didn't gather the kind of information and support I really needed to VBAC. I didn't realize that the model of care I had chosen was basically in direct opposition to my goals. I didn't chose a midwife or a homebirth because we didn't think we could afford it on our post-doc/ part-time teacher salaries. My doula was inexperienced with VBAC. Most of the doctors in the OB practice were dubious after my 11+ pounder.  And most of the friends I knew who had had c-sections with their first child had also had repeat ones, no questions asked. Two friends who had VBACed had had tiny, early babies and lived far away.

Again, this baby looked "big" and, again, I said okay to a late ultrasound. Again, the baby measured over ten pounds. And, again, there was talk of a floating head and a closed, tight, high cervix. And then there were all these extenuating issues of my new teaching job and leave allotments, of my mom only being able to come out for a week and having already booked her ticket for the due date, of my husband's brother's wedding coming up in 8 short weeks in which my husband was to be best man and my son the ring bearer...and so, basically, I gave up and gave in. When the OB suggested scheduling a c-section for the due date, I said "fine."  And at 40 weeks to the day I walked into the hospital, showered and ready to meet my baby. Caleb Oaks was born on February 12, 2010. He was 9lbs, 7 ounces, two pounds less than they'd expected. This time the experience wasn't so lovely. And this time he wasn't so big. And this time I really felt like a failure, like I could have and should have given him a chance to come on his own terms.

Going to have another baby!

swift entrance

greeted by OBs

our growing family...all I felt like doing was throwing up.

the scene as nat left with the baby

My second recovery was faster than the first physically, but I experienced more trauma emotionally. I felt like I'd let myself, and the baby, down. I was pissed that the baby was almost two pounds smaller than estimated. I was pissed that I'd let extenuating circumstances and a healthy dose of fear inform my decision-making. I was pissed that I'd chosen the same medical team expecting different results. But my baby was healthy, wasn't that all that mattered? Not quite, because I wasn't healthy, and I wasn't enjoying my baby the way I wanted to be. I was sad and mad and anxious and worried... and exhibiting most of the symptoms of postpartum depression, though I pushed real hard for over a year to ignore and conceal it. We decided that two children was probably enough for us. Probably...

nursing and recovering take 2