From time to time I get really reflective about my childbirth experiences with my two sweeties. Part of this is my nature and part of this is to sort out my feelings so I can be professional as a doula.
I became a doula before I was a mother. I have always been amazed at the capacity of the human body to bring forth life! Childbirth is a transformative experience even if it is a small part of the mantle of Motherhood. I believe in women's bodies to do the work of childbirth and have been at the side of laboring mothers as they find their inner strength and resolve to do something they have never done before. Even if a woman has had a babe before, each birth is a unique and different experience that requires every ounce of strength a woman has within herself.
How ironic that I hold such faith in the bodies of women and yet I can not have the vaginal delivery I have always wanted. It is a place that stings in my heart. It is the first real experience that involved just me that I couldn't make work no matter how hard I wanted it or tried. I fantasized about the moment when my baby would be born and that warm new little person would be placed on my chest for me to breath in and admire. A moment I have shared with other women but a moment I will never have myself.
It is not for lack of knowledge...It is not for lack of desire. I never doubted my ability to give birth. In fact, my labor with her was a beautiful experience. When my daughter became stuck in my pelvis when I reached 10 cm I was sure she would just move down, I had seen it happen. I rested, I pushed, I walked, I cried, I pushed, I moved....for 6 hours. Her heart did not like it. Her heart rate dropped and dropped and dropped. Being on the brink Motherhood, I would have given my life for her. I had a very unexpected Cesarean birth.
When I was pregnant with my son I was sure it would be different this time. If only I had moved more, given it more time, had a more relaxed atmosphere, I 'knew' I could have birthed my daughter. I picked apart every last detail of my unmedicated labor with my daughter to make sense of it all. I visualized my son being born. I drove myself crazy researching midwives and Ob's who were supportive of VBAC. I looked into homebirth. I read encouraging data about VBAC outcomes. I 'knew' I could do it. After a preterm labor scare at 33 weeks, 11 days of prodromal labor with contractions 2-5 minutes apart several times a day as his birth drew near I was excited.
My labor with my son was a beautiful and empowering experience. My husband, my doula, my midwife, and a lovely labor and delivery nurse were all with me; believing with me. Every breath. Every contraction. Every time I sank into despair.
When I reached 10 cm and my son became stuck in my pelvis I was sure he would just move down, I had seen it happen. I rested, I pushed, I walked, I cried, I pushed, I moved....for 3 hours. This time I knew he would not come. In the quiet space within I cried.
My body can not do it. And I am sad.
My gratitude that we are all alive and well is deep. My sadness that I won't have the experience that I thought I could create will leave in time. But it's here now. More pronounced as we quickly move towards my son's first birthday. More pronounced as I contemplate having more children and knowing that I will never be in labor again with the goal of a vaginal delivery. It's more pronounced because I don't know that I can have an invasive surgery again for someone who I do not yet know...who is not yet growing inside me.
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9 comments:
hey there, I just want you to know that I am sad with you. I'm glad that you are allowing yourself this process and time. It makes you a great mom, a great doula and a great friend. What you learn about yourself, motherhood, birth, control and loss, all as you are gently led down this path will be many pearls of wisdom...remember gently led, cause that's a promise worth holding onto.
Thank you. You know, I feel somewhat selfish that something so...well small brings me sorrow. Compared to women with infertility or women who have lost children...or women in war torn countries, I have a lot of nerve! But as with anything, when you expect things to be one way and they end up another...it is still a process. Thank you for reading and being my friend who listens to so much of 'the process'!.
Hey, thanks for the linkage on your blogroll. I truly appreciate it. What a moving piece you've posted. I haven't been through c-sections and scarcely want to admit that in the past I've judged moms for having them. Mostly moms who schedule them on purpose for no real reason outside of convenience. But now that I read your intimate, soulful story, I feel that I've been wrong all this time. Of course I know that many times emergency c-sections are necessary in order to save the child's life, the mother's life or both. I definitely understand that. I just can't imagine not having had my dream birth, my vision of how I desired for it to unfold. I don't judge you at all. You had to do what was right for you and for your children. It's not your fault. You are not defective. Everyone's life path unfurls in different ways but the end result is pretty much the same as far as birth goes, for those of us lucky enough to hold living, breathing babies at the end of exhaustive labor, no matter the means that that new little life arrived, vaginally or not. The baby doesn't know the difference. Your children will know that your first act as their mother was to protect them, even if it meant trading your ideal birth dream for something different. It must be a challenge to be a doula and witness so many women living what you so badly wanted to live. I hope this didn't all come out really whacked and wacky, pushy and stilted. What I wanted to say is, I've been a bitch about c-sections from time to time. Up on my high, all natural home birth horse. I want you to know that reading you tonight helped me understand that I need to be more compassionate towards other mothers in general, but especially about their own, private birth choices. I'm a judger about breastfeeding to. I know it in my heart. Thanks for opening my eyes and heart. Healing takes time, so keep your head up and burn plenty of Nag Champa to sweeten the surrounding air. Meditate on it. You never know what will come from simple breath work. Namaste.
domestic slackstress,
Thank you for your kind words and for stopping by.
I love being a doula. It is such a wonder and honor to be with women and support their wishes for birth. I think it is encouraging to see women think things through...to contemplate how they desire to birth. Being with women in scenarios I would *never* pick for myself, but that they have chosen continues to humble and grow me in places of my own resistance.
I struggle with judgement about all kinds of things childbirth and mothering and breastfeeding. Sadly, I think the isolation of motherhood and the culture that we are in really fosters that kind of garbage. But all I can do is my mommy best and try to be thoughtful when those judgy feelings start clicking their toungues in my head.
Thank you for sharing this Sarah. What hard memories and feelings to work through. I really admire that you are working through them and giving your self space to be sad.
I second everything that Karen said.
You have a wonderful mommy & doula heart.
Hi, I tracked over her from Holly Zaher's blog and was really moved by your post. I'm an almost 39 year old mom of one beautiful 4 year old daughter -- whom I had by unexpected, emergency c-section following hours of natural labor (and yes, many hours of pushing). I just wanted to thank you for sharing so honestly about your experience and feelings, because I went through some real grief over my birth process too (and if I can admit it, also feelings of failure somehow). It's beginning to look like my little girl will be my one and only, and I'm finding that I need to grieve afresh that I won't ever have a second chance to give birth vaginally. Anyway, thanks again for sharing here...I look forward to checking in again and reading more of your blog!
Beth,
Thanks for your post and for taking the time to read!
Everyone, I had no idea how freeing it would be to put this into writing. Thanks for your encouragement.
hey sarah,
fun to meet you in the blogging world. i just joined it! i can relate on many levels to your sorrow. thanks for sharing your story.
Thanks for sharing this story with us. It was actually helpful to me. I'm not able to fully nurse my son - and as you say, not for lack or knowledge, or lack of desire, or lack of trying. I won't go into the why's or the what's here, but its always so discouraging when people assume that I could if I wanted to badly enough, without knowing the full story. This is something I never anticipated, and have grieved. How grateful I am that, even when our bodies can't perform, we have help to keep our babies and ourselves alive. And how grateful that most of the time, we work just fine.
Oh, and I also really resonate with what you said about feeling slightly selfish for saying I grieve over something "small." But what can you do?
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