Grieving Birth

Yes, it could of been worse. It can always be worse. And I am so damn thankful that everything turned out well with no issues. But I’m also starting to realize that it is nothing to be compared. There is no worse or better birth story. There is just my experience and how I feel about it and that’s what I am going to share with you here. I think it is healthy to acknowledge when things didn’t go as we wanted them to. To feel the hurt and disappointment. It’s okay to be simultaneously grateful and happy with how things turned out while being disappointed and sad with how they didn’t.

The expectation: My perfect birth story

It’s a cold winter day in December. I’ve finished my “chores” for the day (AKA from what I could actually still do barely moving my torso). I’m 38 weeks pregnant with twins and ready to meet my babies any day now. Or today.

I’ve had a beautiful pregnancy. Truly. Being pregnant has felt so special. Both physically and emotionally. The slowness and stillness I was able to experience in the last few months as movement became harder and harder has been a lifestyle shift. I have never experienced such content in my whole adult life. Yet it was almost uncomfortable how still I was. Nowhere to be. Nowhere to go. Nothing to do. Just waiting. Just growing and waiting.

I imagined myself hanging out on the couch maybe enjoying a snack when I would feel the first pull. The tightness in my abdomen that would signal the start of a marathon. I imagined feeling that slight panic while at the same time feeling relief that the day has come. “Let’s do this.” I would tell myself. “I can do this.”

Keith and I have spent the last 4 months reading Hypnobirthing and reciting birth affirmations. We have a birth plan, essential oils, candles, etc. We know we don’t know what to expect, but we know we can handle it.

Keith is working from home so we get to enjoy these special moments together. We both cry with fear/excitement in our eyes. We would call our doula and let her know it was happening. She would give us maybe an hour to experience early labor together. We would snuggle in bed, watch a movie, try not to freak out. I would get in the tub and coach myself through the subtle surges that increased with each wave. As if a strom was rolling in.

When our doula arrives, we’ll scream and shake with excitement. She’ll capture the beautiful moments of my labor at home. Tub, yoga ball, breathe, dancing, breathing, eating, more breathing. And then the time would come. We have to go now.

We’d pack up and be on our way to the hospital. We’d be greated with open arms and brought to our room. We’d be able to set up our space with the oils, the pictures of chakras, the moon phases- all things to remind me that I am magic. I can do this. More tub, but now my doula has set up candle lights around the tub (I love her). I’m in my body, fully. Feeling every second of each surge. Breathing. I am ready. I can do this.

And from there, in the tub or moved to the bed if that’s what must happen in a hospital, I would birth my babies. In the most magical, beautiful & raw energy space I have ever experienced. Fully connected to the source of life. Trusting my body. Trusting my babies. We would meet earth side for the first time and it would be truly a miracle. I did it.

But life had different plans.

The reality: My perfectly imperfect birth story

I think I was around 33 weeks when we got the news “Baby A is breech”. Okay, let’s flip this baby, I thought. I’ve been preparing for a vaginal birth for weeks and I wasn’t going to give it up that easy. So every night I would do inversions (kneeling on the couch, elbows on the ground for 10 minutes or so). I was pretty much doing any and all exercises possible to try and get him to flip, but things were getting tight in there.

It’s uncommon for twins to be delivered vaginally, this I know. But I wanted to try. I wanted to give my body the opportunity to do what it was made to do. I wanted nature to play it’s course. But it felt like the doctors, my OB team, didn’t really see it that way. In there mind, the pregnancy was more than likely ending in the OR even if Baby A was head down. A natural birth was really important to me and I wish there was just a bit more support in the medical atmosphere to follow through with that. But now he’s breech. Baby B is transverse. They will not “allow” me to deliver vaginally. That ship has sailed. We are having a belly birth. *sigh*

I’m 37 weeks pregnant and going to the OB and MFM two times a week for the past month. They scan and measure the babies and listen to their heart beats to make sure everything is okay. At 37 weeks, after one of the scans, the Dr. mentioned some measurements were off. “Baby B stomach is measuring small.” “Baby A’s fluid is low”. I don’t really know what this means, it scares me. I go to the OB two days later and he says the babies might have to come this week. He wants to see one more scan but if not this week then next.

A few days later, another scan. Everything looks normal. We have one more week. C-section is scheduled. Saturday 12/12/2020 at 8am. This is happening. Okay. I surrender.

I atleast wanted to experience labor. I wanted my babies and my body to decide when it was time to meet. So for the next week I did all the things; spicy food, yoga ball, sex, bath, icepacks, more yoga ball, more spicy food, more baths, inversions (I was wayy too large for more sex at this point). But nothing happened. No one budged. They could of stayed in there forever I’m convinced. So I talked to them. I asked them if they were ready to meet me. I told them all I could about life on earth. About their parents and their home that they would soon get to experience. They were ready.

We anxiously got maybe an hour of sleep that night. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact it was our last night as “us” as we know it. We wake up at 4am, bags are packed, our doula is meeting us at our house to capture some moments. We were told she would be able to attend the birth with us still. She would be able to photograph the birth and be my advocate during the procedure, help us nurse and become accustomed to our new babies.

We get to the hospital right on time, 6am. As they open the maternity ward, the nurse greats us at the door. “Unfortunately we are no longer allowing doulas to be present due to new covid regulations”. Uhm- what. But they said– nope sorry. Beside ourselves, we say goodbye. Then the nurse adds, “also it looks like your c-section was rescheduled to 1 o’clock today.” Uhm- WHAT. Its 6 am, why did nobody tell us?! “Do you want to go home or stay in your room?” We are not going home. After some discussion with the nurses, they were able to get our OB in for 9am. Thank god. I probably would of drank the whole bottle of lavender essential oil by 11.

From here the procedure went as I assume most do. Lots of wires and needles and masks and hair nets and the whole bit. I was clearly nervous but luckily my OB was great and really helped me relax into the situation
Okay, I’m in my body still. This is happening. Spinal epidural, okay I can’t feel my body anymore. Am I in my body? Okay, here we go. I did get to have a playlist I created playing in the OR, I focused on the familiar music that would help me welcome my babes to the world. Keith’s here finally, thank god. He sits by my head. We hold hands. I’m shivering, probably my body’s reaction to the drugs. Before I know it, I hear it. His first screams. Jasper is here. I get to peak at him and then they take him and clean him and do all the things that I didn’t really want done until after I felt his skin on mine. It’s okay. Keith is with him now, thank god. I surrender again.

Exactly two minutes later, Saige is here with us too. Our family is whole. I see her through the tears and watch them take her to the station. Keith is such a good Dad. Then he needs to sit.. I can’t imagine what that view was like. Moments later Jasper is all bundled up and on my chest. I kiss his face. I want to bear hug him but this will do. He’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Oh no- “can someone please take him, I don’t feel good”. Then I’m getting sick, on the table. Shaking. Nurses are taking to me but I’m not sure what they said. I’m focusing on the music. I’m trying to find my peace. I surrender, again. What seemed like hours went by and finally, I am back together, meeting & kissing Saige for the first time. Both of them on me as I am wheeled back to our room. I walked into the OR pregnant, I was rolled out a Mother of two beautiful, healthy babies. Blessed.

I surrendered. I let go of what I could not change. I let God take the wheel and I trusted that my babies and I were in good hands. I let go of what I thought was best. I let go of the birth I envisioned for us. I let go and everything worked out fine. Our babies are healthy. I am healthy, for the most part. It could of been worse.

But it still hurts. It hurts to feel like I missed something. To feel like I didn’t have a say. It hurts to feel so disconnected from body when bringing my children onto this planet. I am grieving those moments I never got to experience. The connection I wanted to have with source. I’m grieving the trust I had in my body to endure the pressure of birthing life. I’m grieving the birth I played in my mind over and over. The physical and emotional.

I am overwhelmed with gratitude that my babies came to this earth as perfect as can be and I know that that’s all that matters. But I also don’t want to discount my feelings of remorse for how I wanted to meet them.

I’ve always been up for a challenge. I’ve always wanted to push myself to my limits to see how I will grow and evolve. I know that beauty is found in the deepest, darkest moments. I did evolve through this birth I suppose, just not in the way I anticipated. I felt powerless, I surrendered. I wanted to feel powerful, I wanted to FEEL.

All is well that ends well. I just want to feel and share so I can heal.

In honor of C-Section Awareness Month, I also want to add a few thoughts. Another disclosure, these are my thoughts. This is how I felt. This is not be taken as “right or wrong”. All births are beautiful. Women have c-sections for many different reasons and many times it saves lives. I’m not completely convinced I wouldn’t of been able to birth my babies naturally but I also didn’t get the opportunity to try. I will wear my scar with pride showing how I brought my babies into the world but the scar will always be tender. Thanks for reading.