The other doctor "questioned" my choice, my husband questioned the risks/benefits, I questioned my resolve, but I felt nothing but peace--the kind that only comes from a loving Heavenly Father.
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It was a busy day. I stood in the dollar spot at Target around 8:30 AM comparing notes with another expectant mother; she was being induced the next day, the 6 and 3 year-olds in my behemoth cart were the only induction I could afford. Curiously, after a couple laps around the store to find a birthday present for a friend I began to feel twinges in my abdomen. We headed to a picnic in the park with some other friends, and then the birthday party, which I spontaneously chaperoned. After making dinner and putting the kids to bed, my husband found me scrubbing the toilet at 11:00 PM. When the toilet was clean we went to sleep.
It seemed like I had scarcely been asleep when I was awakened by a *pop* which simultaneously expelled me from the bed, where I immediately felt very wet. I waddled to the bathroom faster than a pregnant woman and sat and waited. A minute later my husband became vaguely aware of my being in the bathroom at 1:12 AM with the light on. "I think my water broke" I said.
"Are you sure?"
"Um. Yeah. I'm pretty sure." (Suffice it to say, I've never, not even in my pre-pregnant uncompromised bladder at full capacity state, seen that much liquid come out of me.)
Fifteen minutes and three contractions later, I notified the doctor and began cleaning, packing, and making up the guest bed, pausing for contractions along the way. My sister-in-law arrived with her pillow and my husband and I left for the hospital. I called my mom from the car, but told her not to worry about us until the morning. At 3:00 AM and 3 centimeters I sat in the hospital bed, waiting for the doctor, listening to the monitors and answering questions from the nurses. I have group B strep and need my shots. If I want an epidural, I will ask for it. The doctor appeared and the monitor lied about my contractions; "Get some sleep" he told me, "and well see what we can do to really get your labor going when the sun comes up..." I stifled my daggers and waited for everyone to leave. Trusting my body and my instincts, I assumed the hands and knees position, letting gravity take the brunt of my belly and contractions and help put my baby in the anterior position. Two hours and 2 centimeters later the doctor found me very awake and the monitors changed their story. Under his orders I sank back into the bed and my belly and contractions sunk into my back. Then like a breath of fresh air the mid wife entered the room, pushed on my knees, and all was right in the world again.
The next two centimeters are a blur, there was heaving and bending and a brief debacle with a ball. Then 7 centimeters. In perfect timing the mid wife drew a warm bath. Curled up on my side in the cozy warm tub while my husband showered my abdomen, I slipped into a trance. I hear the water and my breath, I feel the wrenching and the warmth--like under water ocean waves during a storm, at once beautiful and terrifying.
And then it's gone. The urge to push gave my legs strength and I got out. I felt no more "pain" from the contractions just immense pressure. Again it's a blur of turning and lifting, my body knew what to do and I just had to let it. I was unable to speak and only remember mentally blessing the mid wife when she explained to my mom that often laboring women go into a deep state of meditation and are unable to respond to questions, but will let you know if there's something they don't like.
Two hours later, when meditation gave way to exhaustion, I cried with each break and grunted "Get it out!" with each contraction. The baby was crowning but I was not stretching enough for the soon to be 9 pound 1 ounce child. Her heart rate started faltering and the midwife had no choice but to perform an episiotomy with no time for anesthesia. My husband winced. I felt the pressure's warm relief and the shaking sobs that ensued. I. gave. birth. The room erupted with movement. There were lots of irritating things to be done after the birth, and frankly after 9 months of pregnancy and 12 hours of labor I wanted nothing more than to be alone. But when we were all buttoned up, the nurse brought me a fruit juice cocktail that was like the nectar of the gods and both my baby and I drank to our new life together.
*In a nutshell: Uterine rupture is the number one risk in a VBAC that may result hemorrhaging, hysterectomy, infant brain damage, or death of the infant and/or mother. The risk of uterine rupture is <1% with 1 previous cesarean and <2% with 2 or more prior cesareans. Induction or augmentation of labor with drugs (Pitocin) increases the risk to 7% and is generally not allowed (good riddance). What the doctors do not tell you is that a cesarean also has similar and equally severe risks.
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