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Introducing: Coda Satori
Born Sept 13, 2006 at 4:51 am after 1.5 hours of active labor,a Successful VBA2C!
7lbs 11 oz, 22inches long
"The final passage to Enlightenment"
Coda's name means the above. To fully understand our journey to enlightenment, and her story, you have to know her siblings births, too.
My first son, Gunner Trent was born in Nov 1994. I was 19, young, and scared of birth.All I had ever heard about birth was that it was painful, horrible, and you'd "never be the same down there." So, imagine my relief when he turned breech at 37 weeks and two attempts at a version failed. Whew. Now I won't feel a thing, I'd have a spinal block, and all would be great. Boy, was I mistaken! I didn't realize that no pain in labor meant months of pain and recovery after a cesarean section, not to mention battles ahead for any other potential children I would have to birth them any other way than surgically.
In 2001, I found myself pregnant with my second child. She was truly a gift. Fresh out of nursing school, my head had been filled with the medical model of birth and interventions, and I did not question them at all, ever. After alot of research, and some fear, I decided to attempt a trial of labor for a VBAC. My OB wasn't on call that January morning of 02 when my labor began~ and until Coda I didn't realize how lucky I was that he WASN'T there. His partner was way more VBAC friendly than he was, but I didn't know that at the time. I was a good girl and got my epidural when I was told~ as it was "standard procedure" for a TOL in VBAC, just in case you had to have a section. Isabella Masako was born into this world after 16 hours of labor. My bonding with her was instant, overwhelming and beautiful. I had never known that with my first, but never questioned it, as I didn't have anything to compare it to. Recovery was a breeze, and from then on, I understood the importance of staying away from a cesarean if at all possible.
Birth was so wonderful with Bella that I didn't hesitate to want a VBAC with my third child, born in December of 03. I figured since I did it once, it would be old hat and no big deal to my provider. I carried on with my same OB provider, trusting him fully to take care of me and my baby and our desire for a vaginal birth. Well, he surprised us with a scheduled induction more than a week before my due date. No reason for it medically, just did it because Christmas was coming, and who wants to catch a baby on christmas? The day before my induction was scheduled, my contractions began. I dutifully called my OB after 1 hour of contractions, after all, I'm still "high risk" for uterine rupture even though my scar was "proven." I went to the hospital at 10am, and boy, was the environment different. My OB, the one I trusted, was no longer the laid back dr in the office, rather he was terrified of a uterine rupture. He put me in the bed, I wasn't allowed up as I was with my first VBAC to walk, assume different positions. Then, the internal montiors came, "just in case" he said. Then the epidural. Oh yes. that was lovely. It killed all contractions I had had. Pitocin was next on his list, after all, it's dinnertime now, and we can't be waiting on baby all night. The pitocin was started, and the pain crept in my lower left quadrant of my belly. I told the nurse I could feel, it was slight now, but increasing. It was with my contractions that printed out on the screen next to me. Instead of checking my epidural that my husband had said was "unhooked" they called my OB. From then on, we took a nasty turn down a dark road that I am still trying to find my way out of.
Blocking the monitor, the OB said "your pain means your uterus is rupturing. we have to get your baby out now, or he's going to die. We can't even find his heartrate. ( LIE as my medical records showed later). From that instant, I had more people on me than I could could. I was devisated. Crying. my husband asked "are you SURE this is necessary?" of couse, they said, as they ran me down the hall. I begged the drs to leave me awake. I wanted to be present during my son's birth, at least hear his cry. Once in the room, they put my husband in a waiting room. "no time for you to come in, sorry." I was put on the table. Cold and sterile. Green everwhere. The lights. the sounds. I'm crying uncontrollably. Then, the injection. I feel the meds going in my arm. Tied down. trying to get loose to sever the IV connection so I wouldn't go to sleep. I begged them over and over "please, please don't put me to sleep. please. give it( the epidural) just a minute. please." The last words I heard was "I'm sorry, it'll be over in a moment." Mason Murata entered that cold sterile room without his mother or father present. Dad met him later on while they were putting me back together.
Then I woke up. In a room, my dr standing over me. "There was no rupture. your uterus was fine, your epidural stopped working. But, thank god we did the section when we did, you just don't know what would have happened. your baby is healthy, that's all that matters."
Yes. the famous words. I didn't see my baby for over 8 hours. I didn't touch him. hear his cry. My armband had "female" on it, crossed out and "male" written above it. I didn't even know the gender of my baby. Then they bring him to me, a screaming ball of fury~ "good luck with this one, he's going to be difficult to console." and he was. and still is, nearly 3 years later. I spiraled into a deep depression over his birth. I mourned for him, for me. for our family. I swore off ever having more children. I didn't want to relive that ever again.
Then. A surpise. Exactly 2 years after my son's surgical removal, a baby was concieved against the odds. When the pregnancy was confirmed, I asked "can I VBAC this baby?" With a jaw dropped open, and a furious nod he said "No, not after last time, no way, I'm sorry. you'll have a c section no later than 38 weeks.
I was crushed. Then. I started researching. Again. This time, I found ICAN.org and TONS of studies on VBAMC and rupture rates. I worked through them. day and night. And, at about 16 weeks, I approached my husband with the thought of fighting for a VBAC. To my surpise, he was FULLY supportive of it, feeling exactly as I did with our sons birth. It was tragic for him, too.
Our path during pregnancy was long and winding. I visited many OB's. None would take my case "too high risk" is what they would say.My OB, the one who cut me said "my malpractice insurance won't allow it, they don't even like us to do VBAC at all." With that, I asked if he would be my backup surgeon if I did a homebirth with a midwife. "Sure" he says " as long as you know the risk." Then, 2 months later, he drops me on the same basis of planning a homebirth. My homebirth MW dropped me, too, because she "feared VBAC ruptures." devistated again, I researched UC. At the same time, I contacted our OB residency here, at the teaching hospital. I pleaded my case with the third year resident. Luckily, he had worked in Europe with Midwives and where VBAC was more accepted, and agreed to take me on.
Quietly, in those last few weeks, I prepared myself, my husband and children for the possibility of birthing our baby at home, unassisted. All were comfortable with the idea, thankfully. I was no longer trusting of anyone with MD after thier name. After all the lies my old OB told, and reading my medical records of my sons labor and birth, I felt raped by the medical profession. It was a tough pill to swallow, especially being a nurse. I felt I couldn't trust any of them to do right by me, I was afraid. afraid of unnecessary interventions that would lead me to another section. Afraid for them to touch me.
At 35 weeks, contractions began. I was admitted, and I dilated to 4 cm, and 100% effaced. With that admit, I got really afraid. I signed myself out AMA, and said I'd be back if they got closer, or my water broke. I was terrified of an early baby, of them intervening to make her early, afraid of being cut.
By 36 weeks, I was 6-7 cm dilated, 100% effaced. The next round of contractions came steady at 39 weeks "you're having your baby today." claimed the dr. Me, terrified again, knowing my contractions weren't close enough to warrant active labor said "I'm VBAC'ing this baby, no interventions."Tears streamed down my face. The OB was surprised, but said it was my choice. then, he had a RN waiting to escort me to L&D~ mind you, this is the SAME resident I had signed out AMA with a few weeks earlier. "I've got to get my other children settled with thier grandparents. then I'll come right back."
With that, I ran. Out the door, into my car, shaking. crying. I went home. the phone rang 3 times that day from the OB's at the hospital. And the resident called the next 2, begging me to come in and be checked. I never did.
With that, I hung out for another week. Late n sept 12, I laid down with the same ol contractions that I had been having for 5 weeks. Finally, after very little rest, I decided to play with them for a bit, to see what would happen. Now it was past 1 am. I got back up, and sat on my yoga ball. I rolled hula hoop style. I bounced. I wiggled. I leaned forward, and said "if these are going to stay like this, then I'm getting some SLEEP!." At 3am, I stood up. I felt my baby rotate around, and "Plop!" she hit the pelvic floor. I had the longest most intense contraction at that moment. I knew it was on. This was it. I paced the house for a bit, then woke my husband. No matter how hard I tried, I could not get myself comfortable with letting go at home, and birthing my baby alone. I still had some fears, and heaven above had some more lessons for me to learn.
My DH puttered around the house for what seemed like forever. He lined the van with plastic, grabbed his handy emergency birthing kit, and his emergency childbirth book that had been his bible. I was pacing the floors between contractions saying "I've got ONE minute. One minute to rest. One minute rest." it got me through, and relaxed me during my break, oh how I LOVED the breaks! My MIL arrived around 340 am, and we were off.
In the van, Dh said it was cold. I was sweating buckets, hands and knees in the back of the van, faced burried in a bucket throwing up the entire way. I jokingly asked him if he remembered how to catch, and he said it felt like we were in "one of those movies." he was right, the feeling was strange. I was laughing between contractions, joking with him, and throwing up during them. We arrived to the hospital a little after 4 am, and couldn't get to the door without contractions hitting. Up to triage we went, and the RN on duty said "why, Lisa, we've been waiting over a WEEK for you to arrive. This is the exact crew that was supposed to care for you last week." I saw my bed. I stripped as I walked into the door, LOL. I just plain didn't care who saw what at that point. Laborland was surrounding me. Faces were faded. Time stood still. I tried to be good and sit in the bed. One check for admitting " you've got ONE MINUTE to check" I said, during a contraction. they were 2 minutes apart, and she had one minute in my break. "Still 6 and 100%" she said. Then I flipped back over. hands and knees as they tried to attach the monitor. "Now Lisa, I am all for you pushing this baby out, but I've got to monitor her." I said "Yes, I am here so you can monitor her. I can birth her on my own, but can't surrender to labor and monitor at the same time." a bit stunned, she agreed. I stood up, with dh fussing "get in the bed, so they can monitor."I snapped back "she can monitor me FINE right here. I have to stand. I have to."they all agreed, and held the monitor in place as I stood by the bed, leaning over it. Off to my L&D room we went, 3 doors down. That walk was the longest walk of my life. During that walk, I tried to strip the houserobe they threw over me multiple times. The poor nurses kept trying to keep my modesty, but, I was HOT and didn't care who saw me. They laughed and said I was a riot, and tomorrow I would care, and I went from 6-just a lip. I saw the bathroom, and tried to get in there, "I've GOT to go!" I said. "oh, no, we are not fishing your baby out of the toilet" the RN said. I got to the bed, "I think I'll have the narcotic now, thank you, no epidural." famous transitioning words, I know, and knew it then, too, so the gesture was sort of half hearted. One last check "just a lip and plus 3, you're having her your way, all natural, no time for meds." "oh, OK, then." lol, was all I could say. I wasn't upset with that thought at all. The room, went into a manic state of activity. 13 people~ residents, attendings, nurses,etc, all standing back and watching.My resident was Dr. P. She was a dream, a MW in MD clothing. "Lisa, I can catch this baby any way you need to push her out. Tell me how you want to push, and I'll catch." I think I told her I LOVED her at that moment, and I did. a few more contractions, and the nursery nurses arrived. "OK, now, we're not ready, but everyone is here. I can break your water now if you want." I said "NO, I'm having a contraction." with that, she stood up. My water broke all on it's own. Bed still intact, me in my tank top ( I'd stripped off my bottoms upon entry) no IV, I felt the strongest urge to push. I shouted "I've got to push!" and they of course, said "no, let me check... Oh, there she goes, too late now! She's crowning!" Seems I pushed anyway.
Then, my contractions fell silent. For what felt like an eternity to me. I remember clinging on to DH's hands and his neck, saying over and over "I'm afraid. I'm afraid." Of what, I don't really know. DH said "You're doing wonderfully. And, if anything should go wrong, and it won't, you're in the best place for that to happen. It's OK." Then, the resident said "Lisa, we've got to think about really pushing this baby out, her heartrate is really low right now." I remember making DH check the monitor, too, because, lets face it, I still just didn't trust them to tell me the truth. He confirmed what the Resident had stated. "OK, next contraction, I will." with that, a contraction finally welled up, and I pushed, with all I had. No counting. No telling me how. no interference. I shouted "ring of fire, OMG, shes crowning" and the OB looked surprised and said "yes, that's it!" I pushed more, same contraction. I felt the entire pelvic cavity open wide, it was the strangest feeling in the world. I felt head pop! Shoulder, shoulder body plop! and there she was. Perfect. Peaceful, looking at me, I got to touch her first. dry her off. No tears for her, just quiet and alert, perfect and peaceful.
I cried. And cried. "thank you. thank you so much. you have NO IDEA how HARD I had to fight for her, for her birth." the resident who caught her said "sweetie, you just fought all of ACOG and WON!" I sobbed more. forever it seemed. I said " I birthed my daughter. I did it my way" over and over. The crowd cheered for us, and gave us congrats, as they walked out the door for our bonding.
A few hours later, we were transferred to the postpartum floor. Here I met with the resident I ran from ( TWICE, lol) and he said they were waiting in the OBOR just in case something went wrong. I was surprised to learn this, but also glad that they didn't tell me before hand, nor ever let on that they would do that, and glad that they did have my interests at heart, not just thier own or thier risk manager's. Later on, the Attending OB on call the week prior came to meet me, it seems my birth was a "big deal" in the hospital, one not seen very often, with such determination, or so I was told. She said that she was one waiting on me over a week ago, and that I DID make the right call by not going in. she said "you obviously knew your body, and knew you weren't in active labor, and not coming in protected your choice of an intervention free birth. We were all very worried about you, and are proud to finally meet you. Congrats on your birth." The day was filled with meetings like these, big grins with shocked looks, of "wow, she actually did it." I couldn't have been happier.
I had decided a long time ago that Coda would be our finale. She is our last baby. So, I stayed over in the hospital one more day to have a tubal ligation to be sure. In the OR, I met the same resident who caught Coda, as well as her attending and a few more residents I had met along the way. My triage nurse down there told me of HER amazing VBAC story~ it was 30 years ago, her first was born from a classical incision. Her second, chose her own day, somewhat early. She birthed her baby naturally, without complication, with her dr's staring dumbfounded~ because with a classical incision her risk of rupture was very high. I asked her if she regretted it at all, and her response was "not a chance, never a moment." and a big grin came over her face.
As I was wheeled into the OR, a strange thing began to happen. I had not set foot into an OR since the surgical birth of Mason. Suddenly, memories came flooding back to me. The medication went into my arm to make me sleepy, and I began to sob again, uncontrollably. In a drunken but very much awake state, I begged them not to put me under, not to cut me. I cried and cried more. I wanted to birth my baby, my son. According to the dr, I begged them to let me push! Please, let me push. And, so, someone ( a man, can't remember his face, but remember him) sat me up on the table. he dried my eyes, and told me it was OK. They told me I could push. I remember pushing. I know I peed everywhere when I pushed. and when i awoke, I was looking for my baby. Not my new daughter, but Mason. The dr's came back to me. They didn't have a dry eye and were very subdued. they asked me if i was OK, and I said "no." "are you confused?" "yes. I want my baby." Somewhere, after that, I realized where I was, and what I was doing. Then I realized, I was given a chance to relive a terrible moment in my life, and given the chance to push, instead of being cut. For me, this was the hardest thing to deal with, the unexpected emotions. My mind and heart trying to regain something that was stolen, in a moment that was full of peace from a successful natural birth of one, closed the circle on the sad birth of her brother.
In the end, all of the blood, sweat, tears and fears led me to Coda, and my Satori, my enlightenment. Her birth healed me in ways no one else on this earth ever could, and helped me heal my heart, and bond even more with my son. The path was long, it was hard, and full of unknowns, fears and faith. I had to surrender all of myself to a higher power, and have faith that she would come into the world naturally, peacefully, and gently. I had prayed that I could do it unassisted, on faith alone, but, heaven had another lesson for me, and another shot at healing, and I think that is what lead me to the hospital. I regained some faith in the upcoming OB's in treating a patient as an individual, with feelings and needs, and not just a potential malpractice suit. I didn't trust them, not one bit, but, in the end, they stood back and provided me with support that I wanted, without bullying me into thier will. I think there are still good OB's out there, and until this I felt that all were bad. I believe I also had something to teach them, and I feel like they did learn. I prayed every day that the end would be SO quick there would be no backing out, no getting meds, no room for intervention. That is exactly what I got, and I am thankful.