Micayla Lee-Ann
Micayla Lee-Ann Wiebe
born Friday, July
11, 1997, 8:01 pm by cesarean section
Weight: 6 lbs 13.5
oz (3100gm)
Length: 20.5 inches.
Apgars 9 & 10
As Written by me (Tamara) 2 months later. I will insert comments made 15 months later (after much healing and education), in [blue brackets].
When I found out I was pregnant, I was so thrilled. It took my common-law husband, Darryl, a little longer to get used to the idea but in the end he was every bit as excited as I was.
My pregnancy was great. I loved being pregnant, aside from the nausea for the first 4 months, of course. I had a few "problems". At 7 weeks, I went for an ultrasound because I had some pain on my left side. Everything was great, however, and I got to see the baby's heartbeat which made everything seem real. I had another ultrasound at 20 wks that was completely amazing! The baby was really active, squirming and kicking everywhere. I got to see her suck her thumb, and even pee too! I had the one hour gestational diabetes screening test at 24 wks, and it was normal. At about 7 months, I started measuring large and was told that I was probably going to have a huge baby. At 32 weeks, I spilled sugar in my urine at a prenatal and had to go for another screening test. [No one asked me what I had eaten for breakfast that morning...some sugary cereal and a large glass of orange juice...no wonder I spilled sugar!] It came back borderline, so I had to go for the 3 hour (100gm) glucose tolerance test. I failed it. I was told by my doctor, based on the findings I had gestational diabetes. My blood pressure had also been climbing a bit at every prenatal, so my doctor, Dr. S, was really concerned. He said that he was not going to let me go past my due date. I was really upset. The last thing I wanted was to be induced. So, I ate right and tested my blood sugar regularly and eventually, my sugar levels and blood pressure were right where they should be.
I still kept measuring way ahead of dates, however. Since we knew my due date was correct, we were concerned about the size of the baby. Dr. S was really concerned about shoulder dystocia. Still, he consented to let me go 5 days past my due date.
At 38 weeks, Dr. S stripped my membranes, with my blessing, as I was trying to avoid syntocinon (like pitocin) induction. I had a show and cramping, and back pain all evening, but by bedtime it was over. At 39 weeks, he stripped again. And again, I had more show and more cramping. When I showed up on my due date, July 10, Dr. S said he was totally surprised to see me again. He stripped again. He said I was 1-2cm and not effaced at all. After, he told me he would be leaving the following day at 6pm to catch a flight, so I had to pick another doctor in case I didn't have the baby by then. I picked Dr. D. The first thing Dr. D said when I saw him was "Did you try castor oil yet?" No, I hadn't. I had a bottle of it at home, but didn't want to try it unless absolutely necessary. I figured now was as good a time as any. I was already starting having contractions 10 min apart when I got home, and by the time I took the castor oil, a couple of hours later, I was having contractions 6-10 min apart.
My parents were visiting for the birth and after the castor oil had done its thing, my mom and I went for a walk to try to speed things up. The contractions were about every 6 minutes when we got back. They lasted about 45 seconds. I then had a hot bath and that seemed to really speed things up. Contractions started getting painful, and my back started really hurting. Everyone except Darryl and I went to sleep for the night. Darryl and I stayed up in bed talking between contractions. He'd rub my back during a contraction, since it was hurting so bad. Eventually, he fell asleep. I tried to sleep, but couldn't. My back hurt too much. By then, contractions were every 5 minutes lasting 50 seconds. I didn't want to wake anyone up yet, so I stayed in our bedroom and paced around for a while, leaning forward on the bed for support during contractions. Soon, with no one to talk to, I was bored. I tried sleeping again, but no way. So I got up and went to the living room. It was about 3 am at this point. I tried to watch TV, but was really having trouble concentrating on anything. So I started timing contractions. I was a little surprised that they were all under 4 min apart and lasting at least a minute. I thought, "Oh no, this must really be it!" My back by then was hurting so bad that my teeth and my skin hurt too. So, I piled some pillows on the couch and got on my hands and knees with my bum in the air. It seemed to help my back. I didn't feel ready to go to the hospital yet. I wanted to spend as much time at home as possible. I was sure that this must be it, though and by 7 am, wanted desperately to get some sleep. I went back to bed and tried to doze between contractions, but was always jolted awake by another one. Darryl woke up and rubbed my back for a bit, then fell back to sleep. I noticed the contractions were starting to come every 3 minutes. It was 7:30 am. Hmmm, I though, I'd better go finish packing my bag, but first I'll go pee. I moved just a tiny bit and POP! Then GUSH! All this water came pouring out of me. What a weird feeling. I said, "Darryl! Wake up! My water just broke!" "oh", he said, half asleep, "just wake me when it's time to go to the hospital." "um, now would be a good time," I answered. Darryl practically jumped out of bed in a panic, grabbing everything that was to go in my bag, all the while I was on the bathroom toilet, where water just kept pouring out of me. I ended up leaving with a zillion towels between my legs because nothing else worked!
We left for the hospital at about 8 am with my parents videotaping me waddling to the truck, with the aforesaid towels between my legs. After my water broke, my contractions seemed to slow for a bit. I only had 1 minor one on the ride to the hospital (5 min away) but as soon as we got there, I had a jumbo one right at the nurses station, owwww! They got me quickly set up in a room, a double room but no one was in the other bed. They got the initial monitoring strip going and remarked how close my contractions were. By then they were 2-3 min apart, starting in my back. [my contractions were doing the pattern 2-3-2-3-2... and each 3 min contraction would be far stronger than those after the 2 min break, and all started in my back- classic posterior labor pattern] They were also at least a minute long. My back was insanely hurting between contractions too. But I was coping. I was thinking I would be done sometime in the early afternoon, after all, I had been in labor all night and my contractions were really close, right? My doctor paid me a visit. He said he didn't want to do an internal until I had been in active labor for a few more hours, and because my water had broken he didn't want to risk the chance of infection.
So Darryl and I walked around the room. The contractions were pretty bad, I had to moan during, but I thought I was doing really good. Because of my back, then nurse tried a heating pad for relief, but while I liked the heat between contractions, during contractions it felt like someone pouring boiling water on my back and I screamed for them to take it off (what's interesting is I didn't really remember this until a week later...I was already that out of it). My parents showed up and also remarked that things seemed to be pretty far along. No such luck. At about 10:30 my doctor came back to do an internal. I was a whopping 2-3 cm. I was soooo upset. My doctor said that things would definitely go faster now because I was fully effaced. In fact, he said I was so thin and stretchy that my cervix opened to 4-5 cm during a contraction. So, I looked at the bright side.. I figured things would speed up now that I was totally effaced. Dr. S also told me something I already knew...that the baby was posterior, hence the back labor. I prepared myself for the long haul. [What I find interesting is even at that point, while discouraged, I was ready to 'get down to work'. A cesarean section never even crossed my mind at all. After all, I knew lots of people who had posterior labors, my mom included, and not one had had a c-section].
I was now getting louder during contractions. I was hanging over the back of the bed. The nurses suggested some painkillers. I said not yet. There was a lady that showed up in the next bed who had leaking, but not broken, waters. She had to listen to me for awhile before she got out on an afternoon pass. I tried pattern breathing like I had practised prenatally, but it didn't help. I had to breathe fast to keep up with a contraction, though, or I would be exhausted after. But the nurses said I was breathing way too fast and that I would hyperventilate. They tried the oxygen mask on me. It smelled awful. It made me feel wheezy (I have mild asthma). The nurse kept suggesting I walk. So I walked around the room with Darryl some more, but didnt' like it at all. There was just too much rectal pressure when I was standing up. I tried squatting and that made it worse. So, I stayed hanging over the back of the bed, while Darryl, my mom or my dad would rub my back. Some contractions though I couldn't stand them touching me and would yell at them "Don't touch me!!"And other contractions I would yell, "Rub my back! Harder!" and yet others I'd would yell, "Don't rub, just press!" Every contraction was so different. At about 1 pm, one nurse said it sounded like I was losing control and being to loud and that I should really consider some painkillers. Again, I didn't feel I was ready. I just think they didn't like me yelling. We went to the shower instead. Poor Darryl. It was so small in there and about a million degrees and steamy. He was just sweating. I didn't like the shower too much, because the water never stayed the same temperature. Just as the temp was good, it would abruptly go cold. Then quicky change to hot. And the water felt like little knives on my back during a contraction, so I had to step out of the stream every contraction. Nevertheless, I stayed in there for almost 2 hours, clinging to the bar or hanging over the stool, and crying and moaning with each contraction. They were getting pretty much on top of each other, nearly continuous. I was quickly reaching the end of my rope.
I decided I had had enough of the shower and came out. I decided I wanted some pain relief. So, I was quickly accomodated. They don't have epidurals at the hospital I was at, so it had to be iv painkillers. It took forever to get the iv started. A lab tech, then 2 nurses and finally Dr. D came in to do it (and it took him a few tries too!). It was about 4pm when I got a dose of Fentanyl. It was great for the whole 15 minutes that it lasted. I could hardly feel the beginning and the end of the contraction, just the peak. But, I couldn't open my eyes, since the room was spinning and it made me disoriented, and I could hear everything that was being said, almost magnified. It was so strange. But, I started getting really upset when it started to wear off. I was SO tired! I had been in labor for 26 hours now, and I figured I was just about done with the whole thing. Then, contractions started double-peaking and I started to feel the urge to push big time. I also started trembling violently, so bad I couldn't talk between contractions, and relaxing was out of the question! My legs had a life all their own! I started bawling, " I can't stop shaking!" and "I have to push!". My personal favorite was "I'm done, I wanna go home!". The nurses laughed. The mood was pretty jovial, since it was obvious I was in transition. I also whispered to my mom "I think I'm gonna get sick." I was getting anxious and while I was happy I was in transition, I just wanted to get the whole thing over with. One contraction I had a particularly strong urge to push...and did (against the nurses' shouts of "don't push"!)I felt the baby move down and started telling everyone I felt the baby move. I was told the doctor was on his way and it wouldn't be long now! So my doctor shows up and tells me, "Tamara, you are doing very good! You are almost done! I'll just check you and we'll get you moved into the case room" [ancient hopsital..has separate delivery room] So he checked me. It was a loooong check. Then a loooong pause. Then he said, "4 cm". I totally lost it. I started screaming and crying, "I can't DO this anymore! Something's not right! Please, help me!" If I would have been at 8, 7 or even 6 cm I could have gone on. My worst case scneario in my head was that I was at 5 cm. 4cm was worse than my worst case scenario! I was done! That was it! I wanted a c-section! But I was told that wouldn't happen for at least another 2 hours. I started crying , "I can't DO this for 2 more hours!" Dr. S tried to cheer me up by saying, I was right, the baby had moved down from -1 to 0, but that did little to cheer me, since the day before I was told baby was 'deeply engaged' and I assumed that meant 0 station! He also mumbled something about my cervix was so totally tissue paper thin, he just couldn't understand why I wasn't dilating! Dr. S then told me he was starting me on synto and giving me a catheter. I told him 'No,no!, please no!' and promised that I would get up, walk around, go pee every 3 minutes, if only I didn't have to have those 2 things! Please! I was basically patted on the head and told "we need to bring the baby down Tamara". And so I was left there on the bed, semi-sitting, hooked up to a zillion tubes, including the EFM. The position I was in made the back labor completely unbearable. Dr. S felt bad, but said he really had to leave to catch his plane (he apologized profusely, he felt awful about leaving, but it was a family emergency - a legit one - not an excuse), but he did tell me he was going to give me something for the pain, and all I could think of was "Oh, THANK GOD!" So, I recieved 2 doses of IM Demerol, 1 dose of iv Fentanyl and 1 iv dose of Atarax. I waited for it to kick in. It never did. All those drugs and not one bit of difference with the pain. I was completely at my wits end. I was told Dr. D would be by in 2 hours to check. I again told everyone, " I can't do this for 2 more hours!!" Then, again, "I really have to push!". by that point, I was begging for someone, anyone, to help me.
After the synto kicked in, I truly thought I was going to die. Contractions overlapped continuously, double and triple peaking with no breaks in between. I was crying "why won't the contractions end? It won't stop!" And the odd time where I was granted a brief 10 second rest, the contraction that hit following was so horrible I felt like I was going to pass out. Also, by that time, I was pushing uncontrollably, totally unable to control the urges. Still, the nurses were getting right in my face, chanting "Don't push" and trying to get me to pant through. I tried, but couldn't. I was completely overwhelemed at that point. I was sobbing, "I'm too tired. I can't do this. Please, someone help me!" I remember at one point apologizing to everyone ,"I'm sorry, I just can't do it anymore...if only I had more rest...I'm just too tired...I just need to sleep...I'm sorry." My parents and Darryl were pretty upset at that point. I don't remember a whole lot about this part of the labor...but I guess my parents were telling the nurses that they had better get the doctor and do something. But later I was told it wouldn't have mattered if the doctor had come in, since there is some stupid rule that in order to "qualify" for a c-section for 'failure to progress' you must be hooked up to syntocinon for minimum of 2 hours with no progress.
And so it continued. My mom and dad were openly upset and all I could think of at the time was if they were so damn upset, why didn't they DO something! Why didn't anyone DO something! I got really pissed off at this point. I figured if no one was going to do anything, then I was going to yell my way into a c-section. I started yelling, loud. I wasn't screeching or anything, more like loud, deep moaning and groaning puntuated with "help me!" sreamed at the top of my lungs and in between contractions the occasional "why won't anyone help me, why are you all just standing there staring at me like idiots, DO SOMETHING, Please! Kill me if you have to!". [I may add this is only funny in retrospect, some 15 months later :-)]. The nurses were even upset by then. One was trying to help me breathe through the contractions and the pushing urges and the other was trying to give me Entonox (laughing gas). I shoved the gas mask out of my face, because the gas was cold and made me feel wheezy, plus I hated the spinning feeling that I got from it. But the nurse persisted in putting it back in my face. So finally I told her to get that damn thing out of my face! She did, but I felt bad after for yelling at her like that, since I found out later I was her first labor patient as a student. Poor her!
After an hour and 45 minutes, one of the nurses said "This is ridiculous, something's not right here! I'm going to check her, doctor or no doctor!" I was still at 4 cm. She ordered the doctor to come in. He announced as he walked in that had I progressed, even a little, they weren't going to do a c-section. So, he checked me and said "6 cm". The nurse lost it on him, she said "don't tell me she's at 6cm! I just checked her a few minutes ago and she was still at 4 cm, and even if she IS at 6 cm, look at her! She can't keep this up!" She was right. I was done. I was a wimpering, sobbing, crying, hysterical mess. So Dr. D decided that fine, we would do a c-section.
It took over an hour for them to get all the OR staff together. (it's a small town, and they had to call everyone in). That was the worst hour of my life. I knew I was going to have a c-section, but the contractions continued and the synto wasn't turned off. [Right around this time I started bleeding, every contraction I would bleed a little more. At the time, I totally panicked, since I hadn't had any blood the whole labor...but looking back now, I bet it was show from the cervix capillaries and that I really was dilating! Maybe Dr. D was right, maybe I had gone 2cm in a few minutes...hmmm, hindsight.] I kept yelling at the nurse who was shaving my stomach to "hurry!" because every contraction was so awful I wanted to die, and I couldn't stop pushing, even being as exhausted as I was. I gulped the antacid down like you would a shooter and again told them to hurry. I was loaded up and taken down the hall, and told them to hurry so I wouldn't have a contraction in the hallway. Well, the OR wasn't even ready, so I had to get weighed in the hallway and had a few contractions on the gurney. It was awful. I yelled really loud with each contraction and one of the doctors who just showed up said, "no wonder she's still in so much pain! Someone left the synto on!" Duh! So it was turned off. I can say that I honestly didn't notice.
Dr. S had come back because his plane had been delayed. I thought that was pretty thoughtful. Once in the OR, I had a monstrous contraction. I screamed. One doctor, Dr. B, the surgeon, said, "Now, come on, we don't need any of that!" I could have killed him. How rude! I can't remember my response exactly, but it was to the effect of "Shut up you don't know anything!" It dawned on me that moment that the doctors were pretty pissed at getting called in to do a c-section on a Friday night, a c-section that maybe was unecessary. They probably thought I was just copping out and that I was a wuss. Another doctor, Dr. G was helping me through the contractions as Dr. S tried to give me a spinal. Dr. S tried 5 times. Everytime he tried, he would say, "you might feel some pain in your back!" Like I could even tell compared to the contractions! He was getting mad because the needle would just bend when he got to the dura, not puncture it. He said something about needing a different size of needle. But they didn't have it. By that time I was yelling for them to just put me under! I didn't want a spinal, I just wanted to be put out of my misery NOW! The contractions continued throughout this whole time, and I complained to Dr. G that I really had to push. She told me to go ahead. So I did. Really hard. I summoned up all my might and pushed. And holy cow, I thought I was going to break in two. It hurt so bad I started screaming. And blood started gushing out. Every push after that would bring another gush of blood. I complained that I was going to poop right there on the operating table! I felt like something was coming out. Dr. S finally gave up on the spinal, but Dr. D insisted that he give it a try. He tried about 5 times also, until Dr. B told him to give it up already. I was so thankful that my ordeal was finally coming to an end. After a contraction, they turned me onto my back and strapped me down. I just remember telling them to hurry before the next contraction. Dr. G put her hand over my throat then Dr. B put something in my IV. As I was starting to drift away, I could feel the next contraction. I just prayed so hard that I would be out before it got too bad, because I was flat on my back and I honestly didn't think I'd live through it...just as it started to get really bad, I was out.
The next thing I knew, i was waking up and boy did my stomach burn! Ouch! But it was nothing compared to what I had just been through, and I was thinking, "It's over! Thank God! No more labor!" Someone told me I had a beautiful baby girl. My first question was "Is she okay?" with sudden thoughts of down's syndrome and cleft palate (don't ask me why those 2 things were in my head...I don't know). I was reassured that she was perfect. Then I asked, "How much did she weigh?" When they told me she weighed 6 lbs 13.5 oz, I thought they had made a mistake [a co-worker of mine had a baby girl 3 days earlier that weighed exactly that]. After all, I had been warned since 28 wks how big my baby was going to be! They wheeled me out of the OR and stopped in the hall by the nurses' station where Micayla was (no room for a nursery at this hospital). They brought her too me for me to see. It was total love at first sight! I was so in awe of her! She was the smallest, most perfect baby I had ever seen! I just kept saying, over and over, "She's so sweet! She's so perfect!" She had the erythromycin gunk in her eyes, but her eyes were wide open, staring back at me. And her crying stopped. All I could think of was how everything I had just gone through was SO worth it. People had told me that a million times before Micayla was born, but I never really understood it until then. I was on top of the world. I was a mother.
I was then wheeled back to my room, while they bathed Micayla. They told me why I had had such a problem. I was told that not only was Micayla posterior, but crooked too. No wonder she had such a crooked conehead!! It also looked like she had some indentations where she might have been stuck on my pelvic bones. Darryl had heard one of the doctors say that even so, she should have come out, because she was so small. Her head was only 13 in around. This doctor said that I would probably never have a baby vaginally. The next day however, Dr. D said there shouldn't be a problem as long as my next baby is in the right position. Dr. S repeated that statement 2 wks later at my follow-up, and same with another doctor at my 6 wks check.[at the time, and in the month after MIcayla was born, I swore I would never again go through another labor...that it was scheduled c-section from then on. However, the more I learned, the more I realized that there was a lot I could have done to make this labor easier and prevent the cesarean. ]
Back in my room, I was filled in on what had happened while I was under. Darryl had been allowed to view the birth and everything. Micayla was born at 8:01 pm, just 2:57 after the general anesthetic took effect. I guess that they started cutting almost before I was completely out. No wonder everyone was asking me repeatedly if I remembered anything. Heck, I didn't even remember counting backwards before I passed out, which Darryl said I did. Darryl said that as Micayla was born, the doctor said, "So, Dad, what do you have, boy or girl?" and holding the baby's legs, he showed Darryl the butt end. Darryl thought he saw a scrotum and nearly yelled "BOY!" but the doctor beat him to it by yelling "GIRL!" what Darryl had seen was swollen labia! Darryl had carried Micayla to the nurses' station for all the routine procedures. He fed her some sugar water. I really hadn't wanted that, but with the gestational diabetes, and me being still unconcious, there wasn't much I could have done. I really regret not being more vigilant about that beforehand. But the nurses have their way of doing things...as I learned in the next few days.
Micayla was then brought to me for a feeding. She wasn't that interested because of the sugar water, but she sucked for a bit. She was then taken away because I was told I needed my rest. REST? Who's tired? I was on a high! I was pretty upset, I didn't want them to take her away. I wanted my baby. But I was still pretty drugged, and in a lot of pain, and didn't protest. That night they fed her formula. The next day I had the hardest time trying to get her latched on. She would eat for 3 minutes, then fall asleep again. One nurse went so far as to suggest a feeding tube if I kept refusing to give my baby the bottle of formula sitting on the bassinet ledge, that she has so generously provided. Luckily, my mom, an ex-LLL member, was there to set things straight. No Grand-daughter of hers was getting a feeding tube with formula! She spent a ton of time with me getting Micayla to nurse and we finally got Micayla to eat enough, with the help of a nipple sheild (which I ditched once I got home), and she peed and pooped. By the time Dr. G came around (after this nurse had called her in), Dr. G declared, "why there's nothing wrong with this baby! She's eating just fine!" and shut the nurse up.
That night I switched from getting Demerol shots for the pain, to getting Tylenol 3's. WHAT a difference. My brain wasn't in such a fog and I could actually stand up for myself. I told the offending nurse how much I actually knew about breastfeeding, and that it wasn't necessary for baby to eat for 15 minutes on each side, as long as she was peeing and pooping just fine. The nurse was actually quite nice and shared the breastfeeding text that the nurses used. I told her that the text was pretty elementary and pointed out some myths within the text. She was impressed and left me alone for the rest of my stay.
I had a really hard recovery, since the surgeon had sewn up a nerve of mine on one side of the incision and everytime I tried to stand up, I would get a burning sensation from my right knee up to my right breast ,almost as if someone was holding a blow-torch to that area. I couldn't lay down flat because of that either. I had to stay either sitting or semi-sitting. I tried to walk around the hospital some, but it took me until day 3 to make it to the end of the hall. I popped tylenol 3's like there was no tomorrow, since I just couldn't function enough to take care of Micayla without them. My temp went up slightly on day 3, when the first beginnings of milk were starting to show, something I had read was normal. Well, the nurses didn't think so and I was then put on iv antibiotics, even though my next temp reading was normal. And the next day, my vein went, so they had to try the other hand, and that vein went, and they kept trying to get that one more dose of IV antibiotics before I went home, until finally I said, enough! And I was sent home with a prescription for some.
Micayla's discharge weight was 6lbs 2 oz, she had lost quite a bit of weight, but I expected that and was told that c-section babies usually lose more weight because it takes longer for the mom's milk to come in. By the time the Health nurse came to check on us, 2 days later, Micayla was back up to 6lbs 13 oz! AT home, I was free to take care of her as I pleased, but being at home for recovery from a c-section was much harder. I had to prop pillows up to sleep, since I still couldn't lay flat, plus there was no bar to help me up when baby needed me. It took me several weeks to be able to get out of bed by myself. I think that was the hardest part.
My parents left the day after I came home, and Darryl had to go out of town a week later. I spent the time getting to know my daughter. She was just the most amazing thing to me. I stared at her for hours and hours.
After all this, the
doctors were really nice to me. Maybe it was because they realized I wasn't
simply being a wimp, that the baby's head just was really in a bad position.
I must admit, I did feel a little vindicated after, sort of like "I told
you something wasn't right!" I wish they would have done the c-section
sooner in a way, because I feel it was so awful what I had to go through,
only to end up with a c-section anyway. On the other hand, I am confident
I did everything I could to avoid one.
[of
course now I think differently...there were so many other things I could
have done!] I have since learned that Micayla's
head was occiput transverse during the c-section, which means sideways.
Instead of looking at my tailbone (anterior) or my bellybutton (posterior)
she was looking at my hipbone. I was told the way her head was sitting,
I would have had to dilate to 15 cm to get her out. I have also learned
new techniques and positions that might have enabled her to turn. I guess
I'll just have to try them out with my next baby, hopefully VBAC! I can't
wait to have another, but right now I love having Micayla and I love being
a mom.
Note from Tamara a year and a half after the birth:
Looking back on Micayla's birth now, I can pinpoint all the spots where, had things been a bit different, the whole long labor/cesarean thing may have been avoided. Had I practised pelvic rocks on my hands and knees and done knee to chest prenatally Micayla wouldn't have been posterior. Had I eaten a better diet, such as Brewer, I would never have tested positive for GD and wouldn't have had the shoulder dystocia and big baby scares shoved at me. Had I been in better shape perhaps I could have withstood the pain and exertion of labor a bit longer...long enough for Micayla to turn. Had I enlisted the help of a doula to help with encouragement perhaps I could have avoided drugs for a lot longer, not to mention I would have had more positioning options presented to me. Had I been allowed to eat solid food I would have been more energetic. Had my doctor not given me synto and a catheter, I would have had to get up for the bathroom and been able to move more, increasing the chances baby would turn. Had they done an internal exam in the OR while I was getting prepped, it's possible I was further along than 4 cm since I was complaining about pooping and bleeding. Maybe baby was actually quite descended. Had I just been allowed to push, it's possible the force could have encouraged baby to turn. After all, she WAS transverse at the time of the c-section, she was already started to turn! *SIGH* so many things!
I am so greatful to the ICAN mailing list for helping me to see 'the light' and realize my c-section probably could have been avoided. The confidence I now have in my ability to birth a baby has increased about a billion-fold. I am planning a homebirth for my next baby (whenever that may be) in order to avoid all the unnecessary interventions and iatrogenic complications. I am convinced about the total safety of homebirth, and disgusted with the 'usual' way of childbirth in a hospital, and its added risks that no one seems to 'get'. I have since become a total advocate for midwives and am currently studying to become a doula. Let's just say I have changed a whole lot since I first got pregnant with Micayla, in essence, it has completely changed my life and I am almost greatful for my experiences since they are what got me to where I am today.
Tamara - mom to Micayla, who's still nursing!! :-) 3