So many women have their birth plan all set in their heads, they expect and PLAN for their birth to go that way, and should something happen to change that plan they are depressed or feel like they failed.

Not me. From day one I knew I’d have a few things working against me: 1.) Asthma. It’s hard enough to take a breath during my normal every day life (I typically breathe about 65% of what non-asthmatics breathe, with medication), that we were positive I would need some sort of oxygen to aid in the labor process. 2.) Vasovagal syncope. That’s the technical term, the “Ambered” term is: fainting when I get hurt. Seriously. 3.) a very big baby for a very tiny pelvis. Hey, I wear a size 6 shoe (a little bigger now, post baby) and I’m five feet tall- I gots no room for my husband’s gigantic progeny.

Now, I knew what I wanted, but I was very flexible. I just knew she’d have to come out one way or another. I preferred a vaginal birth, but as our OB had brought up right after our last ultrasound, she was getting pretty big and it would be work to get her out. Well, okay, I’ll just read up on all I can since I couldn’t practice pushing without something disgusting coming out. The OB thought it was definitely possible to have her vaginally, and I was all cool with that. I also preferred to do it naturally, as I was really looking forward to Piper latching on right away, and I heard they do so much to you post-medicated birth that the chance isn’t often there. I also wanted to wait for her to come out on her own, as I was terrified of inducing, and had heard many the story from friends about their induced deliveries.

As it happened, I pretty much had none of those things happen. From the start, Paul and I went in during our 39 week appointment, my due date a mere three or so days later. I was huge. People gave me scared looks when I waddled into the waiting room, horrified that was their future before them. Our favorite nurse let out a gasp when she patted my belly, and the OB said, “Wow, you’re still here?” (since she had been on her own maternity leave up til then)  Still, I was a spry preggo, spending hours at a time on my feet, and still sleeping soundly through the night. I had no complaints and was more than willing to let her take her time out.

The OB had a different idea. “You’re pretty big, already, and we know it’s not from excess amniotic fluids. I think we need to talk about inducing if she’s not here by your due date.” I told her my concerns, namely hearing that inducing leads to c-sections, and possible complications and crap and she told me that it was really not that bad, and cited a bunch of stuff. All I heard was, “The baby will be here by the 24th.” OB then stripped my membranes (OW) to loosen the amniotic sac and that was that. We scheduled my induction for the day after my due date.

When I got to the hospital, everything went so fast, yet amazingly slow.  Instead of laboring quietly, I was given mighty doses of pitocin, which made labor intolerable for me. So, I then got the epidural. The epidural was more painful than the labor, because it was a different kind of pain. It was a sharp poke, that turned into a cold burning. They made Paul sit down, because many Dads end up passing out. Instead, I began to pass out. That damn vasovagal syncope struck again. I must say, I loved the epidural. I really did. The odd thing, though, was that because I couldn’t feel the real pain that went with labor that the birth of my daughter felt a bit like it was happening to someone else. It was a waiting game until I got to 10 centimeters, where I began to push. Even then, my body and mind was so exhausted from a full day of constant alertness (and getting the insides kicked out of me) that I was literally passing out and coming back to during the contractions which felt like pressure. Basically, my body gave up.

I couldn’t muster up enough energy to push, and I couldn’t sleep to get more energy. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. When my doctor hesitantly mentioned surgery, I was so quick to agree, I think I may have cut her off. I honestly couldn’t do it anymore, the pressure was so huge, so damaging that I still feel repercussions of the hours of pushing I went through.

So, despite wanting to do everything different from how it turned out, I am not upset about it. Sure, my c-section scar is ugly, and suuuure, my thigh and pelvic area is still numb (I’m asking about that tomorrow, I promise), and I will have to fight to try to get a vaginal birth next time, but I’m okay with that. In the end, Piper arrived healthy and whole. She wasn’t doped up from the epidural, and she didn’t have a cone head. She latched on immediately after and fed for 45 minutes, both of us falling asleep during the session. If you think about it, the only lasting effects from my labor and delivery (surgery and medication parts)  are: numb thigh and pelvic area, a scar, and my daughter.  My truly horrible lasting effect is in my butt.

Yep. My butt. Despite having an epidural, I was able to push, and feel the pushing. They had ceased “re-filling” it when they knew I was getting close. So, I felt it. I felt the pressure of the contractions and her head cramming down in my cervix. I pushed and pushed. I put my foot in Paul’s hand, and the other in the nurse’s hand,  and pushed until I saw stars. They put the oxygen mask on me, and told me to try to breathe during the breaks. Unfortunately, the breaks weren’t very long, and I was so very tired. Still, I pushed. I pushed until I pooped. Forever, I will know my husband looked down at my nether regions to watch his daughter be born, and instead witnessed his wife defecating on the table. At the time, I knew what was happening, and begged him to look away. Then, I fell asleep.

Despite not eating anything for over 24 hours, I still pooped on the table. Sigh. After all that, pooping and pressure strong enough to bring me to tears, I didn’t even push her out! She was lodged in there, that little monkey. Now I get to enjoy a constant sensitivity in my butt when I’ve been sitting for awhile, no matter how cushioned the area. I don’t poop normally anymore, and sometimes I hurt when I DO go. These are all things I’m going to ask tomorrow.

Funny, after being so afraid of having labor and delivery interventions, the lasting effect is from pushing- the only natural part of my labor.