* Birth Story

written By Laurie Rugemer

The first time around I felt very prepared. I did birth classes, read books, did yoga and meditation regularly and visualized over, and over and over…what the birth of my first child would be like. But as I learned, no matter how much I planned and prepared, I can’t control everything. It is true that sometimes things don’t happen the way we want them to.

In my mind, Adelaide (now two-and-a-half) was going to come out beautifully. Labor would start early or on my due date, we would labor at home for a while then head to the Birth Center where I would have a painful but relatively easy birth in the water.

My water broke around 4 p.m., nine days after my due date, and contractions started slowly, sometimes tapering off. By the evening I was having more regular contractions, but I had barely dilated. This continued through the night and into the next day. We tried castor oil, walking, and the ball, anything to get things moving. Alas, I did not dilate past three centimeters and the clock was ticking. My midwife strongly suggested we head to the hospital so that we could try other things to get this going. I reluctantly made the journey. Long story short, Pitocin did nothing, I wasn’t opening and I ultimately had a C-section. My beautiful baby girl was born 30 hours after my water broke.

I spent a lot of time replaying that birth over and over in my head, wondering what I could have done differently to have the birth I always knew I would have. The hard transition to motherhood and a voice of defeat made those first few months a struggle for me as I recovered from major surgery, adjusted to motherhood and looked for ways to feel better about my C-section outcome.

With time for healing (and some great therapy), I started to see that sometimes things just happen, and not the way we want them to. Like many C-section moms, I felt somehow like I was a lesser mother that I hadn’t given my baby the best start through a natural birth, with her going right on my chest and fully enjoying the golden hour (although thanks to my wonderful doctor, Adelaide and I were only separated for 10 minutes). At my follow-up appointment I was already asking about VBACs (Vaginal Birth After Cesarean). My doctor encouraged me to let some time pass and to enjoy my baby before thinking about another birth, and I tried to do just that, but the nagging feeling that I needed to “do better” next time wouldn’t go away. In that moment, many people can tell you that “at least you have a healthy baby,” but I felt it was O.K. to grieve the loss of the experience that I so wanted for my baby and me.

Time does heal many things though, and as the months passed and the pain from my scar subsided, I fell into the rhythm of motherhood and saw that, indeed, I was so thankful for a healthy child. And it started to matter less to me that I didn’t have the birth I envisioned.

Sixteen months later, I became pregnant again. It had taken me a while to think about being pregnant again and potentially going through the same birth experience as before. My old feelings of guilt and wanting things to turn out “better” this time resurfaced, but, somewhere along the way (with the help of my beautiful daughter) I realized that I was now a mother and I was willing to do whatever I needed in order to keep my growing baby safe. I knew that I wanted to try for a VBAC and I decided to start in the hospital so that I wouldn’t need to transfer. For Adelaide’s birth, the transfer to the hospital was one of the most traumatic moments for me. This time I would be right where everything would happen, no matter what the outcome. My doctors were extremely supportive of my attempt, even though my “failure to progress” during my first birth was generally seen as lowering my chances for a successful VBAC. In either case, I would be able to go into labor naturally and try to have a vaginal birth before looking at other options if necessary.

Everything was set on course as my pregnancy progressed and about two months before I gave birth, I realized that no matter what happened it would be a healing experience for me. If I were able to have a natural birth, then this would hopefully be a wonderful experience for my child and me. If I wasn’t, then it occurred to me that this might help validate my first experience and help me continue my emotional healing.

Labor began nine days after my due date at 2:30 a.m. (sound familiar?), but my water did not break. I labored through the night and the following day, at home with my husband and doula. When contractions were strong and close together, we headed to the hospital. When we got there and checked in, the nurse checked me and I was about two centimeters dilated. I decided to go home for the night to try to sleep. Labor continued through the night and my doula came back in the morning. Contractions were regular and strong, and in the morning we decided to go back to the hospital. By this time I was exhausted, as I’d been in labor over 24 hours. When my doctor examined me, I still hadn’t progressed any further in my dilation. At this point I was beginning to develop pre-eclampsia. We decided to break my water to see if we could get things moving, as the onset of pre-eclampsia made a timeline more important.

Unfortunately, this did nothing. Contractions ramped up, but I was not opening any more. At this point I had been in labor for over 35 hours with no progression. Everything seemed to be going the way it had before and with the talk of more interventions I decided that I had had enough. It felt empowering this time to decide to do the C-section, knowing that I was making this decision for my baby and myself. Marlowe was born at 12:52 a.m. She was, and is, a healthy, beautiful baby girl.

The difference in my mental wellbeing and overall recovery was amazing. Certainly the adjustment was easier because I was comfortable with a baby and as a mother, but I also felt like I had done everything I could and, in the end, my body, for whatever reason, was not allowing me to give birth naturally. So, I am thankful for modern medicine, and no longer feel like lesser of a mother because I did not have the birth I so craved. I remind myself that I gave my daughters the best start I could, and every day I am thanked with their warmth and love.