After many years believing it would be really hard to conceive a child due to polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS), my boyfriend, Guy and I had a surprise on a little stick confirming that I was in fact pregnant. I decided I wanted to do everything right from eating healthy, cutting caffeine, and having a natural childbirth and breastfeeding, especially if this was my only chance. After many visits and seeing every doctor in the practice, one of them decided to finally check the baby’s position and I was immediately distraught when I realized my baby was breech. I didn’t feel comfortable delivering a breech baby so I went ahead with scheduling the C-section.
I felt angry and helpless and so many more emotions that led to daily crying episodes. I did so much research and tried to keep my head up and stay positive so I could make this baby turn. A friend of mine then shared many birth stories and articles with me and I read so much and found a family-centered caesarean that could have allowed me to still have a good experience with getting skin-to-skin and immediate breastfeeding there in the O.R. I felt so much better that even if my baby didn’t turn in time, I could still be happy with my delivery. That was, until I ran by my doctors and they told me I couldn’t have that. His words were, “We can’t very well allow you to do that while you’re open on the table and still have to stitch you up. He’ll go to the nursery, dad can follow and you can see your baby in recovery.” Cue the tears yet again. I did all the exercises I could find trying to get him to turn until the day of my scheduled C-section. They started an IV and antibiotics and the anesthesiologist came to speak with me. I got my blue hat on and the doctor came in to perform the final ultrasound to confirm that baby was still breech. Low and behold …. HEAD DOWN!
We were elated with joy and I’m not going to lie, slightly disappointed we weren’t going to meet our baby today. Days went by of eating pineapple, having sex and walking to jump start labor. Five days later I realized that I was leaking something and wasn’t sure what it was and upon calling the hospital, we were instructed to come in to get checked in case it was my water. We arrived at the hospital around 10 a.m. The paper test was normal and the midwife came in to run one last test. A half an hour later they came back and said we were having our baby! The midwife started me on pitocin when breaking my water failed to start labor. I wanted as much of a natural labor as possible but the pain was getting worse. It felt like knots in my stomach tightening and not letting loose, almost like having the really bad number twos. It kept getting worse and I was worn out at only 3 cm, so I decided to get the epidural.
Although I was feeling slightly disappointed in myself, I could finally rest and began to dilate much faster and around 7 p.m., they said I could start pushing. I was instructed to hold my knees and bear down for as long as I could during my contractions. I kept pushing with all my might, trying and trying and trying. They allowed me to rest for a little while because we weren’t getting anywhere — the baby wasn’t dropping. So they put my bed at an angle so I my head was on the lower end and on my side suggesting that it would help the baby drop farther. It was time to push again and still nothing so they angled me again and placed me on my other side. Again with the pushing and no matter what we did, our boy would not come. The midwife checked the baby’s station and told me the baby would never come out. I was way too out of it to remember, but Guy said she said something about my pelvic arch. She called the on-call doctor who examined me and he agreed with the midwife and that I needed a C-section.
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I had so many mixed emotions; I was relieved, scared, angry, frustrated. They prepped me and as I lay on the O.R. table shaking uncontrollably from the epidural, Guy came around to hold my hand. There was so much tugging, pulling, pressure and pain and finally what I had been waiting for, he was out and I heard his first cry at 10:11 p.m. I let out a loud cry myself and impatiently awaited to see him when they finally brought him around to let me hold him for a brief minute before he and Guy left for the nursery. I lay there in the recovery room waiting for an hour and a half when they finally came in and I could have my skin-to-skin and breastfeed. He was beautiful and that feeling of instant love came immediately. He was my boy, my first born, my Carver.
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