Birthing Fears, part III

San Clemente Family Photography-6470I’ve come to a lot of self-realizations during this pregnancy. One being that you can’t really prepare physically for a natural birth. I’m sure others would disagree and, for others, this may be true. I’ve heard all about the hypnobirthing fad (even my OB suggested it), but I just don’t think I could get out of my head enough for that to work for me. Having had two natural births before, one of which was Pitocin-induced (and therefore accompanied by Pitocin side effects), I know the pain well enough to conclude that there’s not much I can do besides surrender and allow my body to do its thing.

Which brings me to another self-realization: While I’ve accepted that I cannot physically prepare, I have been doing as much mental preparation as I can. Y’all have been witnesses to that. I’ve been using my blog as a platform to walk through my fears as they present themselves and it has, in fact, proved therapeutic in the working-through-shit sense.

Next on my self-realization checklist: Accept whatever path this baby may need to come into this world. While I’ve accepted that my body will need to do its thing, my major fear is that my body won’t do its thing well enough on its own. I’m going to have to accept that a c-section may be the safest delivery method for me. I may go through hours of unmedicated labor only to end up on an operating table. This means a vaginal recovery (because, hello, pain from pushing), as well as recovery from abdominal surgery. And, for me, a c-section would mean being put to sleep completely. Because the majority of my spine is fused, I can’t have spinal anesthesia (where you are awake but the lower portion of your body is entirely numb). This is the hardest for me to accept. I want to be present when my child enters the world. It hurts my heart to imagine not hearing that first cry.

I know that, ultimately, I should focus on the baby’s health instead of obsessing over the birth. If the baby is healthy, I shouldn’t really care too much how it gets here, right? So why do I care? Is it a societal pressure? Are we all too attached to this “ideal birth experience”? Why do I have all of these biases toward a c-section? When I talk to people about how big my baby is getting, they say “Oh, you can just have a c-section,” with a flip of the wrist, like it’s no big deal. For me, it is a big deal. I know there are women who choose to have a c-section. Maybe they want the control that comes with a set date in their day planner. Or maybe they want to avoid the pain of labor. Or maybe they’re worried about ruining their lady parts. I don’t fit into these categories. If I have a c-section, it will come with a feeling of defeat.

That feeling of defeat will only exist because of the ideals I have in my head. If I am able to let go of those ideals and embrace whatever happens, the disappointment and distress won’t be as jarring and monumental. It’s like the Buddhists teach about not getting attached to certain outcomes. I thought I was a go-with-the-flow type, but maybe I’m not in this case. So this is my challenge: accepting that I may need a c-section, welcoming the unwelcome circumstances, and relinquishing control.

You can read my other two posts on birthing fears by clicking here and here.

Image of Hooper unrelated to the subject matter, but one of my favorite I’ve captured of him to date.

Birthing Fears, part II

AshleyWilly-71mattandtishThe reality is that our bodies don’t always do what we expect, hope, or pray that they do. The reality is that you can read as many positive passages by Ina May Gaskin and still run into trouble during the birthing process. I’ve come to realize that it’s not fear that has gotten the better of me, but the reality that my body has limitations.

I believed so deeply in my body’s ability to birth my babies. So much so that even after a “failed” home birth the first time around, I opted to try again. Because I believed.

I still believe in a woman’s ability to birth a baby, but I also know that no matter how hard I defend my body’s ability, it too has limitations.

The other day I was pulling meds in the med room at work when the pharmacist came in with his rolling table of meds to stock. On the top of the cart were several bags stacked on-top one another of pitocin. I looked at him, laughed, and said “get that stuff away from me”.

You see, with my birth with Hooper, my body didn’t know what to do. Labor never started on it’s own and though I speak so evilly of that dreaded drug, something had to be done to get the ball rolling. As my OB said, pitocin is synonymous with induction; there are no other ways to technically induce labor. Sure there are natural labor induction techniques, but if your baby is in distress, your OB isn’t going to tell you to exercise, or have sex, or eat pineapple, or stimulate your nipples, or call an acupuncturist… he’s going to hook you up to an IV with pitocin running into your veins. Because, despite the inherit side effects, it works.

I worried deeply that my body would fail me again; my new fear when pregnant with Van being that my body would once again not go into labor on it’s own. A fear rooted in what was previously my reality and thus, a fear supported by reality. My reality.

And to my surprise, it did go into labor on it’s own. It knew just what to do and it did it so beautifully. The labor portion of my birth with Van is the highlight of all my birth experiences thus far; the part of the story I hold on to tightest.

I’m hoping that the last piece of the puzzle – the piece I have yet to make fit – will be complete with this third baby. I’m referring to my body’s ability to push a baby out, on it’s own. And if not on it’s own, at least safely, without complication. Because it’s not the assistance I fear, but the complications that come along with things like vacuum deliveries and, well, large babies in general. I hope the fact that I’m grateful for the assistance I’ve had and the luck I’ve had in delivering two healthy babies inspite of needing assistance is clear.

You see, it’s not all about trusting your body and believing in your body. If I didn’t have either, I would have never tried to birth my babies at home. I had all kinds of trust and will-power and it was my experience, my reality, that proved my trust and belief in myself to – on it’s own – not be enough. For me, it’s not about positive thinking and visualition. Sure that can be part of it, but I had it before and it still didn’t go as planned, or envisioned for that matter, so the resulting feelings of defeat and fear have been proven valid.

So I suppose the better question is this: How do you deal with fears that are valid and rooted in your own experiences of the past? How do you trust when trust alone hasn’t proven to be enough?

You can read my first “birthing fears” post by clicking here.

Image by Tish Carlson.