Log onto Squarespace
Archives

Entries in breech (2)

Tuesday
May012012

Cesarean Scar: Elizabeth

My first c-section was an emergency at 25 weeks.  My baby died.  The day I had my staples removed, I ruptured the incision and had to pack it with gauze everyday for two weeks, and it healed funny.  My ex and I would joke that it was my little pocket.  It was the only physical proof I had that I had a child.  I loved my scar.  I loved the story that it told; I had given birth to a beautiful little girl, who fought for her life as hard as she could, and nothing could take my pride for her away from me.  It made me sad to look at, but not for one second have I ever regretted it.  No one can take that from me.  Even though it's not there anymore, my scar, with it's pocket and all, filled me with pride and said everything that I could not, good and bad both.
But my second c-section...that's a different story.  I was high risk throughout my pregnancy, and my OB flat out said, "no OB in town will do a VBAC".  I didn't argue because the only thing I wanted was a healthy, live baby.  That's all I needed out of the pregnancy and delivery. 
That's all I was holding onto.  So when my water broke, I jumped in the car with my bag and showed up at the hospital.  4 hours after my water broke, and through the beginning of contractions, my son was born in the bright, cold OR and held high for me to see him.  I cried, and wanted nothing more than to hold my son, yet I couldn't.  I had to wait until recovery, after he went to the NICU for observation.  My doctor stitched me up so I wouldn't rupture this incision too.  My pocket was gone forever.  And recovery was so much worse the second time around; one of my lungs collapsed, I was in so much pain I couldn't get out of bed, and I'd lost so much blood during the surgery that they nearly had to transfuse blood.  My scar says that I didn't have the support of my doctor, who I had relied on to deliver my son alive.  It says that I did not try hard enough to have the "right" delivery.  It says that it will always be there, and will never be altered again - it is my strength for future VBACs.

 

Tuesday
May012012

Cesarean Scar: Sarah S.

My little boy was breech.  We tried everything to turn him, chiropractic, acupuncture, yoga sequences, positive thinking, visualizing, you name it.  We attempted an external version at 37 weeks which instantly put my baby into distress. The midwife and doctor stopped the procedure and the baby and I were monitored for two hours to make sure that he and I were both okay.  

When the midwife told me "it is time to choose a birthday," my heart sank.  I was devastated that I wasn't going to have my beautiful natural birth I had been preparing for and terrified of the prospect of abdominal surgery.  I cried daily for over a week but slowly came to embrace the certainty of it all.  I was able to find a cat sitter, let my work know when my last day was, and do a deep clean of the house to welcome the little one, etc. 

The day of the cesarean, (3/1/10) I was 39 weeks.  My husband and I spent the morning relaxing, watching the news and just being together.  The nervousness didn't kick in until we got to the hospital and both had to get dressed in our fancy birthing outfits.  Being in the experience, we were so scared considering neither of us have ever had surgery before and didn't know what to expect.  I felt like I had no control, like the birth was happening to me, instead of being a part of it.  However, in retrospect, our little man came into the world with his parents holding hands with intense eye contact and repeating how much they love each other in the most calm way imaginable.  It was just my husband and I.  No one else was relevant.  

The month following Owen's birth proved to be one of the most joyful and sorrowful of my life.  My Dad was diagnosed with ALS the August before and he passed away on March 31, 2010.  I can't tell you how many times since then that I have looked at my baby and was grateful for the manner in which he came into the world.  My Dad was able to see him, hold him, and love him for a whole month.  Had the baby gone to term or even worse, been 2 weeks late, that would have been less time for my Dad and baby to have been together.  

So, what does my scar say to me when I look at it...that my Dad and first born son were able to meet and spend time together.  I have a "tattoo" of March 2010, which I am proud to wear.  I will never forget this month.  

What does my scar say when I touch it...nothing really.  I am more preoccupied with the excess baby weight then the purple scar.....and, that there is always a VBAC :)