birthED CBAC Story - Healing The Scars
February is CBAC Awareness Month and we are featuring a lovely CBAC story to bring awareness and love to those that have repeat surgical births whether by choice or circumstance. A CBAC (Cesarean Birth After Cesarean) refers to a person who has a trial of labor in pursuit of a VBAC (Vaginal Birth After Cesarean) and ultimately requires or chooses a repeat Cesarean.
My first son, Aiden, now five years old, was born on a dark and stormy night in June of 2014. I love saying that because it’s true. At one point, the lights went out while I was lying in bed, connected to seemingly 56 different monitors. Massive claps of thunder rocked the atmosphere off and on for at least an hour and it rained so hard the hospital’s parking lot was flooded for weeks. But the storm was just one of the hiccups we experienced during Aiden’s birth.
The first half of my pregnancy started off business as usual. When I first found out I was pregnant, I went to the OBGYN I had been seeing for years at the clinic I had been going to since I was a kid. I liked her a lot and it seemed like the logical choice. And then I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes. She told me I would not be able to go past 40 weeks and sent to a 3-hour meeting with a clinic nutritionist who prescribed an expensive glucose testing kit that needed to be refilled often. From there I was given a lot of information at a fast pace. I was sent in for hours upon hours of monitoring. Even though all cases of GD are unique and all tests told us that baby and I were doing great, I felt lost in the gears of the giant “gestational diabetes medical machine.” And during my journey, I had the fear of god instilled in me that one false step and I was risking my life and the life of my unborn first child. I did not feel empowered to make my own choices about me and my baby—I didn’t realize that despite my diagnosis, I still had a say in my medical treatment.
So at 41 weeks (some begging and “good behavior” bought me a little extra time) I walked into the hospital for an induction. It was a Monday. We brought Aiden home the following Sunday. My hospital templated, thoroughly written birth plan specified a natural, vaginal birth and all the usual “no’s” that go along with it, including “no drugs” and especially “no c-section.” In an effort to respect my wishes, the hospital’s’ team of doctors and nurses first tried inducing me by inserting Cytotec. That didn’t work. Then they inserted Cervidil, which was so uncomfortable and painful, I could barely sit or pee without crying. It fell out in the middle of the night. On the third day, they broke my water, a difficult—and painful—maneuver as I was barely dilated. Still no dice. On day 4, the Pitocin started.
After laboring on that for the better part of the day, hooked up to tubes and cords and monitors, there was little to no progress. By nightfall, I was so tired I fell on the bed weeping and asked for an epidural. With the epidural finally in place, I was trying to get some much needed rest. But remember that thunderstorm? It set in just about the same time that Aiden’s heart rate started doing random, off and on jumping jacks. With the heart monitor beeping incessantly, the nurse coming in to turn me this way and that and still no real progression in sight, I was restless and so was my care team. The time to seriously consider a c-section came. The surgeon approached my bedside and outlined my options: keep laboring with outcome unknown, or choose a c-section and move toward outcome known: a baby in my arms within hours. I remember lying there with a sea of faces staring down at me—surgeon, nurses, doula, husband, mom—all voicing different opinions and points of view.
I felt overwhelmed and trapped.
Neither option was one that I wanted except, of course, for the baby part. I just wanted it all to stop. It was almost Thursday—I had been at this since Monday. Even though I was sad and afraid about the way things were going, I was physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted. I couldn’t bear the idea of more labor, more Pitocin and no progress...or the idea that my baby was at all suffering because I was set on a vaginal birth. In the very wee hours of Thursday morning, the storm clouds cleared and Aiden William was born via c- section: 7 pounds, 21 inches and 100% healthy. As the room bustled around me, the surgeon stitched me up, I could feel the pressure of my skin being pulled back together again. And even though everything was being performed behind a solid curtain, I could hear what was happening—the surgeon was voicing over his every move to the intern who was by his side.
The surgery left me feeling super drugged out. I was shaking so badly from the cold operating room and the meds I could barely hold my new babe without fear of dropping him. But I also wanted to eat him he was so cute and perfect. When we finally brought Aiden home, we were over the moon happy. Yet my birth experience and my “failure to progress” c-section stigma left me feeling sad, bitter, defeated, depleted—it made me feel like, well, a failure. I battled a body and a medical system I thought had failed me. I was angry at a doctor who I trusted, but who I felt didn’t listen to me or treat me as an individual, a hospital experience that had put me through the wringer and a surgeon who promised I could “still wear a bikini” after the surgery was over, as if that’s what I was most concerned about. I was upset that my birth had gone not the way I planned or wanted it to go. I regretted not advocating for myself harder or making “better” choices. I questioned whether I had made any right choices at all. I wondered incessantly what would have happened if my body had just been given the time to go into labor on its own. I was mad at myself for having a c-section.
Over the next few years, as I was busy learning how to be a mom and turning a marriage of 2 into a family of 3, these negative feelings surrounding Aiden’s birth stuck with me like a bad hangover, buzzing in the background of daily life. I didn’t really realize how much I was holding on to until 4 years later, when I found out I was pregnant with my second son, Harrison. Being in the physical and mental state of pregnancy caused all those harsh feelings to bubble to the surface. I was terrified of what was to come—even the thought of being diagnosed with GD again and getting caught up in that intervention- happy hospital was enough to drive me to tears. I didn’t want to feel like a failure anymore. But even so, I didn’t want to this pregnancy to bear any of the weight of my past birth. I needed to get a grasp and get a clean slate. Ultimately, I decided I would not follow the same clinic/hospital path that brought me to the hospital with Aiden.
I wanted to try for a VBAC.
The minute I set foot in Willow Midwives, I knew I had found the right place for me. Walking into Willow is like walking into a warm hug—it feels like home. I fell in love with the comfortable, family-focused space, the staff and their human approach—they spoke to me like an individual, not a number or even a patient, and they listened to what I wanted. They approached my pregnancy as a normal part of life vs a clinical event. Even when I did eventually get my dreaded GD diagnoses, they involved me in the conversation and presented choices, not mandates. There were, of course, lots of things to pay attention to and checkpoints along the way. But as long me and my baby remained healthy and safe, they empowered me to plan on birthing at the center first and, if needed, the hospital second.
I contacted Liz Hochman at birthED to see if she would have an opening to be my doula. She did. And in doing so, she connected me to a birth experience I never thought was possible as well as the wonderful community that is BirthED. I clearly remember taking the VBAC Prep class because I was not feeling my pregnant best. Also, my husband had to work unexpectedly and was unable to attend the class. But none of this mattered. A few additional doulas and BirthED staff were there to help out and were even gracious enough to stand in for my husband when it came time for couples to practice comfort positions. Above and beyond that, it was truly a safe space to ask questions and be real about an often confusing and overwhelming topic. Liz lifted the curtain of misinformation and anxiety that often shrouds the term “VBAC” and taught the class in a very real, relate-able and honest way. She broke her evidence-based information down in bite sized pieces and gave everyone a chance to share their story and be heard. No matter what led us to consider VBAC—and several couples were definitely still in the consideration phase—it was clear that we belonged and we were not alone.
I knew my options felt in control.
I labored for something like 86 hours with Harrison. It was a long time, just like my first birth. But unlike my first birth, I went into labor totally on my own and at home—water broke, mucus plug fell out, contractions kicked in with tiny little pulses at first and then body-rocking waves—the whole shebang. On the first day, when things were just getting started and I wasn’t even sure what was really happening, I remember seeing Liz at Willow and when I told her how I was feeling she said, “Welcome to early labor.” I was excited and, yes, scared, but also super happy that I was going to experience a labor on my terms. I stayed committed to VBAC the whole time, as did Liz and my midwife team. Even when my water had been broken for too long and we needed to prevent infection. Even when my contractions weren’t keeping up and then slowed to a snail’s pace and we had to do all sorts of things to get them going again. Even when my contractions weren’t coming hard or fast enough made birthing at Willow a no-go and we headed to the hospital to labor. Even when I got Pitocin and eventually nitrous oxide and I transitioned and pushed and pushed and then...had to stop.
After a long journey, my midwife said it just wasn’t safe anymore. Baby was not in the right position and I couldn’t withstand any more intervention. So when my care team said it’s time for a c-section, I listened. Liz advocated for me like a boss, encouraging me to use my BRAIN and ask questions. She worked her doula magic and helped make the surgery room as close to a delivery room experience as possible: a partially see-through curtain was procured so baby could be presented to me in a more vaginal birth-like manner. My heart monitor was placed on my toe vs. my finger so it wouldn’t interfere with holding my new baby. By my side played one of my favorite songs during birth and my doula softly, reassuringly talked me through what was happening. A soft band was secured around my chest so that baby could be tucked into so that I wouldn’t fear my post-surgery shakes would cause me to drop him.
At the end of it all, our beautiful, healthy Harrison Gus greeted us with open arms. The whole cesarean experience was so much more peaceful and welcoming than I ever thought it could be. It was so much better the second time around.
Even though my second birth also ended in an c-section, it helped me heal the scars of my first.
It taught me that I can progress. I went into labor not only prepared for a vaginal birth, but open to the idea of not having one. And thanks in large part to the birthED VBAC Prep class, I learned to really evaluate and understand why I wanted a VBAC experience in the first place and let that knowledge inform my choices. I learned to expect the unexpected, to lean into whatever fears I had, to embrace vs resist the possibility that I might not have the birth of my dreams, but a birth that was best for me and my baby. I also learned what it felt like to trust my care team implicitly. Even without a VBAC, I got what I wanted: a safe birth, a healthy baby, an appreciation for modern medicine and the knowledge that my body is strong, capable and it did the very best it could. And there really isn’t any better gift than that.
If you or someone you know is birthing after a previous surgical birth and has questions about Twin Cities Providers, Doulas, and Evidenced-based care please CONTACT US and we will be happy to assist you in your informational search.
If you are interested in our birthED VBAC Prep Class you can read more about it HERE.