I've recounted, retold, and rewritten this story what feels like countless times. But I haven't felt like it was the right time to share it - but we are long past the days of bleeding and tears, we have a routine, albeit everchanging, I'm still in physical therapy and emotional therapy - though we have moved on from birth trauma and it's immediate emotional aftercare.
I have an almost 7 month old tiny human who has two teeth, a cheesy grin, and a vivacious determination all her own. She greets us with giggles, raspberries, shreiks, and lots of "HAAAAS!" - it is perfect.
And I am okay. I've had time to process and think, I've had the support of multiple medical practitioners, friends, and family - but I know we still have a long way to go. The bad dreams and adrenaline floods of panic still happen- but they are significantly less now, manageable, and palatable. What used to make a bad day is now a bad half hour or so - and that is ok.
Trauma never fully goes away; but we learn to let it not affect us as much, we learn to acknowledge and understand it - and embrace and grow from it rather than react. In a way, I'm exceptionally thankful for the experience I've had, terrifying and all. But anyways, if you'd like to read about our birth story - please continue. I will post below. Please be warned it's pretty scary.
The 3 days of prodromal labor (basically non-productive labor that can hurt but usually doesn't - for me it totally was like "real labor") began with optemism and excitement. I recently found a note on my phone that detailed that I was annoyed I hadn't slept but genuinely excited to help bring my child into this world. We had done lots of physical therapy, reading, and birthing classes to prepare as best we could.
That optimism and excitement was far less enthusiastic after we went to the birthing center for 6 hours and all labor stopped. Nothing happened.
We left the birth center, returned home, tried to sleep - Andrew called out of work and about 24 (maybe longer, I have no idea) hours later we went back to the birthing center - optimistic things had actually started.
Labor pains came and went, sleep was hard but became impossible when the contractions became accompanied by lower back and pelvic nerve pain (similair to siatic pain but basically my whole pelvis and about 1/4 of the way up my spine) with every contraction --- think full contraction pain that does it's contraction thing and then just stabs you in the back/pelvis for 3-5 mins. Contractions varied from 5 mins to 1 hour apart and kept stopping and starting - as prodromal labor does- but now with the weird nerve pain.
After our second time going back to the birth center the nerve pain started increasing to the point that I couldn't sit down, lay down, or really do anything with any level of comfort. This continues for what I think was 24ish hours? Might have been longer - to be honest I don't know.
Because I'd the nerve pain I didn't sleep for about 72 hours and because I wasn't sleeping nor was I progressing we decided to call in my acupuncturist to see if we could get the nerve pain to atleast let me rest. My acupuncturist did her absolute best - and it did nothing. She gently let me know that there was no shame in tapping out, going to the hospital, getting the epidural. Another few agonizing hours went by and finally we (Andrew, myself, and my midwife) decided that while baby and I were objectivly fine - I wasn't progressing (still at only 4ish centimeters dialated) and I was becoming too tired to potentially safley deliver at the birthing center and needed sleep (sleep I couldn't get with the nerve pain that left me screaming and crying for 5+ minutes. Every 5-25 minutes.) It maybe doesn't have to be said but that type of nerve pain is NOT normal not is it common - I had a few contractions without it and those while hard and painful were absolutely a piece of cake in comparison and we're able to be eased by positioning, pressure, stretching, and breathing - basically everything we practiced for)
I sobbed in the tub when I told my midwife I wanted to "tap out" and go to the hospital - it felt like I just was "giving up" even though I objectively knew I wasn't. It felt like utter failure.
We decided to drive to the hospital to transfer care as I wasn't in any emergency at this time. We were all hoping I could get some sleep and hopefully get some kind of relief and get labor progressing.
We parked at the hospital and walked in - due to the fun construction configurations we had to walk through one building and cross to another - the two women in the elevator with us were complaining very much about whatever greivence they had that day and didn't seem to notice the heavily pregnant -obviously- in labor woman trying not to scream and make a scene - it actually made me laugh a little as they walked away, completely oblivious that I had been silent scream crying.
Once getting to the delivery waiting room we filled out our paper work and sat in the waiting room for "15 minutes" (an hour) for a negitive COVID tests (where scream cried a lot through the contractions that were picking back up) we got to our room.
I was met with a kind Docyor who sat on the edge of the bed, grabbed my hand in hers, reiterated I absolutely was not a failure and then offered me drugs. All I remember saying was "Please make it stop and please help me get this baby out." She agreed they would do their best and get me some pain relief ASAP.
The first epidural only lasted an hour, fun fact about my body is that I'm hypermobile; meaning my joints move more and my connective tissue does whatever it wants and sometimes when you're hypermobile things like epidurals don't work... That was a fun fact I learned. While waiting for epidural #2 I was given fentynal (stuff is crazy - don't do drugs kids - it was NOT FUN) because the only anesthesiologist was in 4 back to back emergency C-sections. --- during all of this I had pitocin which was helping me to get labor actually moving- so when the epidural stopped working that lovely nerve pain that happened with every contraction basically started being non-stop with intense pitocin induced contractions.
Epidural #2 worked for 10+ hours and I blissfully got some kind of sleep throughout the night. I was starving and very much not thrilled I wasn't supposed to eat - a kind nurse for me clear Ensure which is somehow I guess acceptable and I drank about 4 of them.
By noon the next day I was at 8 cm and remained there for 4+ hours and doc said he was worried we weren't progressing. My water still hasn't broken so the doctor asked if he could break my waters at about 4pm to try to continue to get things moving. We did and got to 8.5cm an hour later. I asked to get up on a squat bar to try to keep things progressing.
While trying to use the squat bar I realized that the nerve pain was coming back. Slowly at first so I couldn't tell - I thought it was just labor finally progressing. But it ended up being contractions 2-3 minutes a part (as they had been) that I could fully feel plus almost constant nerve pain. (I was basically just laying/squatting/sotting in bed low tone screaming while Andrew grabbed me on oneside and the nurse on another - trying to help me feel better.
Doc came in again and I hadn't progressed any further. He asked if we would consider a C-section. He was worried baby was too big and not fitting through my pelvis - and that might help explain slow progression. I was determined that that was not the case as Andrew and I both were average/small babies so obviously they meant I couldn't possible have a large baby. (HA! Was I wrong!)
He said if I wanted I could try for two more hours to get dialed to 10 cm, but then he thought I should really consider a C-section. Not because baby was in peril now, but because this was coming up on day 4/5 of labor and my body was exhausted and labor wasn't progressing and he didn't want it to become an emergency.
After doing everything in my limited power (squat bar, changing position, essential oils, peanut ball, counter pressure and just about anything else) we decided to get the C-section - nerve pain was intensifying and it was becoming more of my time was just spent screaming in pain. After some calls to my support group and a good hard cry - Andrew and I asked the doctor for the C-section. The doctor was so kind and compassionate and kept telling me that they would do everything to make the experience what we did want - delayed cord cutting, Andrew could cut the cord, Andrew/us finding out the sex of our baby together. He was so kind and supportive (as were all the staff).
Because of the failed epidurals the anesthesiologist suggested we do a spinal tap instead of another epidural since both previous epidurals failed and he didn't want me to suddenly regain feeling while on the operating table - spinals are preferred for C-sections anyways. One nurse kindly told me things would feel rushed but not to worry as she would be right there - two other nurses ran on and started shaving and prepping even before we got to the OR. I got wisked into the OR Andrew was sent in a hallway to wait for "15 minutes" until he could come in. I was in so much pain and basically had to be lifted onto the OR table, as I couldn't move my legs (epidural still hasn't worn off despite doing nothing for pain - how fair is that?) it felt like an eternity to place spinal - I ended up screaming into the shoulder of the sweetest nurse and she held me in a scrunched position as the doctor had his hand on my leg and shoulder to help hold me still and also offer comfort. Baby was in my ribs and the side of my pelvis and I had to sit still with no break from nerve pain or contractions. Finally the spinal was in place. I had about 30 seconds of fantastic pain free wonderfulness. They told me Andrew would be in soon, once they got everything set up. I laid back.
I had been warned that the spinal would probably make me numb from the chest down - the anesthesiologist said I'd feel like I might have trouble breathing but would be okay, just breath through it. But suddenly I was very short of breath and began to feel numb from the about the nose down. I was explaining this to the doctor when all of a sudden my vocal cords stopped making sounds, I couldn't breath, but could move my mouth. I couldn't gasp. I couldn't inhale. My lungs just didn't work. I had no way of telling anyone what was happening. I repeatley kept trying to say "I cannot breath" and just began to watch everything fade away as people moved very quickly and intensely around me. The anesthesiologist had said that if I could squeeze his hands if was ok - I couldn't by the end. I loved to my left at a light. I remember thinking "Well, shit. I think I might be dying. I think my baby might not make it. I never got to say hello or goodbye." Eyes rolling back. Was sure I was dying - I tried again trying to say "Help me, I can't breath." But no words came out. The last thing I remember was "She needs to go under..." They put me under and I woke up later. Writing that I can still feel the weird empty heaviness if my breath not filling my chest.
Thankfully everything was fine beyond that. I had a big cut on my lip from a quickly placed intubation tube and a very sore throat, and I was beyond swollen and sore everywhere from days of bodily stress. They don't tell you that you get lactic acid buildup from labor. I basically felt like I had done the worst work out of my life for 5 days.
When I woke up I apperantly was yelling a lot about not being able to breath and where was my baby was - but I don't remember that. Andrew met me in recovery with our baby, Andrew told me she was a girl - but I apperantly already knew that as I had been yelling about it for I guess a half hour? No memory of that. The nurse asked me what her name was and without consulting my spouse I told the nurse "Elodie. E.L.O.D.I.E." and then looked at Andrew like "Oops, I didn't consult you? That ok?" He agreed it was fine. We were wheeled up to recovery and our labor nurse filled in our "Mother Baby Room" nurse about that is was a hard journey and I might need extra help.
She was so kind and kept telling me that I needed to rest, she could take baby so I could get some sleep.
With some good sleeping drugs and the nurse taking Elodie out of the room we slept for a few hours, only waking up for meds or to pump or try to breast feed. I don't remember almost anything from that night other than the adrenaline shaking and jolting awake whenever I closed my eyes. I still had a cathader in, I couldn't stand, couldn't sit up, couldn't pick up my baby without help (and didn't for about 2.5 days).
For the next 3ish days I experienced some pretty terrible PTSD symotoms and flashbacks and had severe postpartum anxiety.
I won't detail much more of our hospital stay but we stayed an extra day. And our exceptionally kind amazing OB who delivered Elodie came on his day off to find us and walk us through what happened.
For whatever reason my pelvis and or Elodie's size had prevented her from moving down into the pelvic opening and birth canal. The complication with the spinal tap is called an "up/high spinal" and in 40 years the OB had only seen it happen 4 other times.
Technically while it was complicated we were not in "danger" (ish) - I was able to remain stable and Elodie was fine, though her body score was low and she was limp when she was taken out and needed help breathing - not uncommon for babies born under anesthesia. That said, he stressed it was no less traumatizing because my lungs stopped working while I was conscious. This mean that my brain (and I) was sure I was dying. He encouraged us to see counselors and consider anti-anxiety medication, both options I had already started. He stayed for maybe an hour and just wanted to make sure we were okay and assured me that everything that happened, while horrible and terrifying was nothing I could have prevented or stopped - it was just a bad bunch of coincidences and anything and everything we felt was valid. And to seek and continue to seek help as needed.
And I did need it and do need it.
I've been on anti-anxiety medication since leaving the hospital, I seen a counselor weekly, I go to physical therapy, and we still have struggles.
Post partum depression and anxiety is no joke even without severe trauma and PTSD. I had days of jolting myself awake (and hurting my abs and scar) with PTSD flashbacks, I had severe post partum insomnia, I couldn't look at screens or TV, I was agitated and unable to focus, and I got overwhelmed from just doing every day things.
I'm a lot better now. But I still have a long way to go. Birth trauma is real and scary - and something I've learned on my journey to motherhood is that it is absolutely okay to voice that and it doesn't make me any less of a mom.
And her being the most amazing little being ever (I'm totally unbiased, obviously 😜) doesn't lessen my trauma. They are both real and valid.
Do not say things like "Don't talk about the bad, just focus on the good." That's toxic positivity and I'm not focusing on the bad - I'm expressing a very real terrifying thing that happened to my family. And if I'm telling you about it - you probably asked so I'm not dwelling - I'm sharing. And it's my choice if that's okay for me to do - not yours.
Please do not ask when I'm going to have another -unless you plan on making a baby with me - it's none of your business if or when we have another.
Please do not try to tell me (or anyone) that things I'm doing for parenting choices for my mental or physical health are inhibiting bonding - that's bullshit and beyond not helpful. (This goes for anyone, the mom shaming people do - intentional or not - is aweful)
And please know that ANY birth can have trauma. For the birthing person and the partner. Seriously. Andrew was left for 45 minutes in a hallway after he was told it would just be "15" minutes. He was convinced we were dead. And when he first met his daughter she was getting breathing assistance and he had to wait about an hour to see that I was ok - and I honestly wasn't.
And please do not hear my/our story and think that somehow your story or the story of someone you care about "Isn't traumatic enough" to count as trauma. Trauma is trauma and your experience is valid. Seek help and support if you need it - if you don't know where to look or need a friend - please PM me - if I can I can help or atleast send you some helpful rescource or chat.
Birth trauma happens to approximately 1 in 3 women in the US. This means you know someone this happened to our perhaps you yourself experienced it. That experience is valid.
Thank you for reading my long scary story about how my daughter got into this world.
Pictures of the day after she was born and then today. 💜
