Hannah Michele's Birth Story
The back story: I relocated to the Dominican Republic at the end of October 2012. I was 30 weeks pregnant at the time. I had been forewarned that the doctors here prefer cesarean sections. The Dominican women seem to prefer it as well. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that the c-section rate here is about 90%. Scary, I know. Armed with this knowledge, my mother and I used all of our connections to find an OB who supported natural birth. We found success through my mothers massage therapist, Michelle, who was 6 weeks ahead of me in her pregnancy. In her search my mother also found a Canadian midwife living down here. Midwife and OB! Double the knowledge and support!
Now here comes the part where the saying, "life is what happens while you're busy making plans..." comes into full effect. All was going well. We were considering the options: hospital birth in Puerto Plata or water birth here at the house with Leslie (my midwife). I was nervous about it because I don't personally know anyone who has done it but was leaning towards home water birth, Then comes my 34 week check-up. Baby girl still hasn't turned. My doctor tells me she will give me 3 weeks for the baby to turn and if she hasn't by then - we will schedule my c-section. Bubble. Popped.
My efforts to turn her included every suggestion in the book and then some. Massage, play music/shine light down at the bottom of the belly, elephant walk, lay inverted, cat stretches, acupressure on the pinky toes, etc.
It was a hopeless cause. She not only didn't turn, she couldn't turn. She wasn't breech - she was transverse oblique. When your baby is transverse for a significant period of time the uterus actually grows in that shape and can't accommodate the baby to turn. We were stuck. Her head firmly planted in my right ribs, her bum stuck in my left hip. No hope of a natural birth.
January 2nd, 2013. 39 weeks 4 days. Seems like a great time to plan a section. The New Years celebrations are passed. We're close to full term but don't want to push it any longer and risk a potential cord prolapse or emergency section should I go into labour early. It seemed to me that if I was not going to have my natural birth a planned section would still be a much better experience than an emergency. I talked with my doctor extensively ahead of time regarding the incision - it must be transverse (should I ever have another baby I'd like to try for a VBAC - especially now that I've had a c-section and know what recovery is like - but that's another story for another time).
The birth story: January 2nd, 2013. I made it. I woke around 6 am. Stay in bed. Try to get more sleep. Nope. Wide awake. Anxious. Excited.
Get out of bed at 6:30. No breakfast today. Surgery. No water today. Surgery. Check my hospital bag for the 80th time. Don't want to forget something important. Contraction. Nothing new, been having BH contractions for 4 month now. Not usually in the morning though. Wake mom up. She has coffee. Lucky duck.
7 am - time to go. Stop at Wendy and Dan's to pick them up. (Dan is half Nicaraguan and has been my translator at the hospital for the past 9 weeks - I speak Spanish but not well enough for medical speak).
7:30 am. The 30 minute trip into the city is filled with contractions. Again, nothing new, the baby hates the car, every bump for the last few months has been met with a BH contraction. This is more than ever. So many so early. So anxious. That must be it. I try to listen to Adele's 19. Soothing. Distracting. Contraction. Why won't the other people in the car stop talking? I just want to listen to my music. Contraction. Turn the music down? No! Stop talking! I don't care about water retention after birth! I want to listen to my music. Wow, these contractions are more intense than usual. Must be the stress.
8 am. Check into hospital. Fill out tons of paperwork. In Spanish. Was this third-world country delivery such a good idea? People have babies here every day, Whitney. Expats. Lots of expats have babies here. Healthy babies. You've met one. Delivered by THIS doctor at THIS hospital.
8:30 am. Sit down in the waiting area. There is no room available yet. Wait patiently for an hour. An hour filled with contractions. It has to be the anxiety. Watching the cleaning lady mop the floor reminds me of my earlier third-world country baby having concerns. No, no, Whitney, the operating room is a completely different story!
9:30 am. Mom and Dan start harassing the check-in lady. Is the room ready yet? Doesn't she need to get prepped? Where is the doctor? The room is not ready. The room probably won't be ready till around 11. The doctor is not here yet. Contraction. Contraction. Contraction. There is a problem with the paperwork.
9:45 am. Contraction. Paperwork corrected. Dan's patience has reached its limit. Phone's the doctor. She's upstairs in her office. What?! She's been here the whole time. No one called her. Contraction.
10:00 am. Doctor comes down to waiting area. Contraction. Contraction Contraction. Asks me how I am. Contraction. Gives check-in girl a very loud piece of her mind. Contraction, Anger sounds so much better in Spanish. Contraction. Wait here, someone will come with a wheel chair to pick you up soon. Contraction. Good thing... I'm about to have this baby with or without an operating room! Contraction.
10:15 am. Someone shows up with a wheelchair. Contraction. Finally we're in pre-op. Contraction. Okay this is the end of line for Dan. Contraction.The nurse takes me into a room filled with empty hospital beds. Contraction. Take off your clothes. Give them to your mother. Glasses too. Oh great, I get to be blind in addition to only half understanding what you're saying to me! Contraction.
10:30 am. Lay down on random empty hospital bed. Contraction. Nurse comes to insert an IV. Worst nurse ever. (this thought would only last till my after delivery care - there are nurses who don't deserve the title.) She walks me into the operating room holding my own bag. I sit up on the table in the middle of the room and a male nurse hangs the bag for me. The anesthesiologist has me put my legs out straight on the table and then tries to bend me over to prep my back for the epidural. I'm like, "Hey, guy, I kind of have this gigantic belly in my way, I can't hold myself up in this position..." He obviously has no idea what I'm talking about and I have no clue how to translate my snarky but truthful statement into Spanish. Luckily, the male nurse notices my dilemma and comes over to help support me while I'm getting prepped. Oh god. They are about to put a giant needle in my spine with no local anesthetic. Oh god. Where is my mother!? The male nurse (the only nurse in this godforsaken place who deserves to be there) holds my left hand, wraps his other arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his chest, speaking to me in soft soothing Spanish as I am literally stabbed in the back. I can't lie, I cried, a lot.
10:40 am. The epidural is in and I'm laying down. I can already feel my lower half starting to get heavy and numb. I feel them prop my legs up - I am on display - then I hear the buzz of the electric razor and realize this is the moment when I lose all dignity. Finally, my mother is allowed in the room. We had to get special permission from the hospital for her to be able to be with my during the surgery delivery. They allowed it but she was under strict orders that she leaves when the baby leaves - honestly - I was much more comfortable knowing she'd be with the baby the whole time. They set a chair up for her beside my head on the left. I immediately reach out for her hand. Now that she's here I start to feel the full intensity of my emotions. I was trying to be strong when I was alone but with her comforting hand I can admit it. I am a terrified. I feel sick. Nauseated. I gag and cry. I can't breathe. I vomit. The anesthesiologist wipes my face. I feel much better after I vomit.
10:50 am. The doctor arrives. Asks me how I am. They start poking around at my belly. Oh god. I can feel that. I CAN FEEL THAT! Don't start yet, I can feel that! Oh god! They are going to cut me open while I can still feel! The anesthesiologist ups the dose and my blood pressure drops again. I can't breathe. I am nauseated. I vomit. I can't do this! "Mom, I want to be asleep, I want to be asleep!" "I'm sorry honey, I don't know how to say that." "Doctora! Quiero dormir! Quiero dormir!" She laughs at me and says something to the anesthesiologist. Within 30 seconds I feel a wave of calm and relaxation overtake me. The doctor asks if I am okay. I slur, "Oh yeah... I'm good." I don't know what they gave me and had I been giving birth naturally, I would not have wanted to be stoned. But I wasn't. I didn't get my natural birth. I got this terrifying, metal, cold experience. I was happy to be stoned.
Now with the drugs the next few minutes are a bit of a blur. I mostly remember listening to my own heartbeat on the monitor and clutching my mothers hand as tight as I could.
11:16 am. They start to pull her out so my mom lets go of my hand to go get pictures. I don't know it yet but I will be very thankful for this.
11:17 am. Hannah Michele is born. I cannot convey in words the way you can feel during a cesarean even though you are numb. It was so much pressure. Pressure pressure. Then a sudden intense lack of pressure. Mom says, "she's out Whitney! She's so big!" I say, "she's not crying..." Mom says, "what?" Hannah starts crying. The most beautiful sound I have ever heard. I start to cry. The pediatrician brings her over and holds her up in front of me so I can see her. Then he takes her over to the station and starts to clean her up. Mom follows along the whole time getting pictures. Once she is a little bit cleaned up the doctor brings her over and lays her next to me so that Mom can get some pictures. Then they take her away. If my mother hadn't been there to follow her I would have died.
I don't know how much time passed after they left while the doctor was working on me. I do know that at some point, not suddenly, but slowly as time passed, I started to get feeling back. At first, I was just bearing it. I didn't know that something was not right. It got worse and worse though. I seemed I could feel it, the doctor scraping away at my insides. I couldn't stand it. I remember saying, "it hurts, it hurts" and trying to move. Then the words turned to loud moaning with every breath. Then I woke up in my recovery room with my mom.
Because Hannah was breech they kept her in the nursery on oxygen for 4 hours. I didn't get to see her until 3 pm and I didn't get to hold her in my arms until 5:45 pm. There was so much about this delivery and birth and especially recovery that I wish had gone differently. I felt like a failure for not being able to give birth naturally. I was drugged up and in a great amount of pain the first time I was able to hold my child. The nurses went against my wishes and fed my baby formula from a bottle with I was still on the operating table and then offered no support for us to breastfeed after. It has been 13 weeks and I am almost recovered physically - still numb in some areas and sensitive in others - I still can't wear a great number of bottoms because of the pressure on my incision site. I would never recommend a c-section to anyone who did not absolutely need it. I have a daughter and still have no idea what it feels like to give birth. It was hard for me, it broke my heart, and I'm still coming to terms with accepting the pain and grief that it caused so I can move past it. At the same time, Hannah was born healthy at an even 8 pounds and 52 cm, she is beautiful and perfect and anytime I start to feel too sorry for myself - I look at her and nothing else matters.
Photos of the birth below.
***Disclaimer: Some of them are a bit graphic***
Further proof that I was already in labour - that's definitely meconium coming out of that bum!
Now if you can peel your eyes away from the simultaneous beauty and gore and take a look in the upper right corner... those are the earrings my doctor wore into surgery... she's a classy lady.
And she's out! Check out that cord! And the vernix! Try not to look at the blood. Ick.
She still sleeps in this position! In fact, she is right now! I've been told it's a breech baby thing.
Getting weighed and measured.
My first time seeing my little girl!
Poor baby girl on oxygen.
My beautiful girl making her scrunchy face!
Finally she's back with me!!
My first time holding my girl!
My second and third time!
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