This blog began as a platform for me to process my thoughts about birth and early motherhood. As I near the end of this second pregnancy journey, I’ve been feeling a bit nostalgic and thinking a lot about Ellie’s birth and wondering what this next experience will be like. It seems that everyone’s favorite question these days is whether or not I am ready to bring this sweet babe into the world. People ask this question, often apprehensively, bending to the American norm that labor and birth are risky and painful and should be surrounded with a healthy dose of fear laced with a desire to “get it over with.” I think they are often surprised to find that my response is that I am looking forward to labor and that I rather enjoyed the process of bringing Ellie earthside. Yes, contractions are painful. Yes, birth is hard. Yes, postpartum is difficult. But contractions are also powerful signs that my body is doing exactly what it was designed to do and every one of them brings me closer to meeting this sweet new member of our family. Labor can be long and it is certainly exhausting, but for me it was also an incredible time to witness the strong and loving community of family and friends I’ve built and the depths of their love for me. And while the hours, days, and weeks that followed Ellie’s birth sometimes felt like a personal prison, they were also some of the most precious as we hunkered down and learned how to be a family of three. Birth can either be approached from a lens of fear and dread or from a lens of faith and awe. I chose the latter for Ellie’s birth and I truly believe it made all the difference. And so, as my body turns into a ticking time bomb, I’m choosing again to lead with excitement and faith that my family, my medical teams, and my God will bring us both safely through this experience.
With all of that being said, my “plans” for Owen’s birth are a little different than those I had for Ellie’s entrance. As a first time mama, I felt like there was so much that I wouldn’t be able to control about the experience, and so I tried to compensate by trying to control anything and everything that I could. I had a detailed birth plan with everything from what I intended to wear to what I’d like to eat while in labor. Not knowing how big she would be or what the weather would be like that day, I packed five outfit choices. And when it came to medical interventions or pain relief options, I didn’t even want anyone to say the “E” word in my presence. I had a plan.
Ellie’s labor and delivery were beautiful. I got to see firsthand that I really was as strong as believed. My life was forever changed. Everything about Ellie’s labor and birth were textbook. I successfully made it through 18 hours of labor and delivery without any medical intervention precisely as planned. I remember feeling so relieved when I felt her slip outside of my body knowing the worst was over and that I had done it. It was what happened in the hours that followed Ellie’s birth that changed my perspective. I don’t remember a lot about the hour or two after Ellie was born. I know they placed her on my chest and I remember the nurses mentioning to the midwife that I was bleeding a little more than normal. I felt very weak and disoriented. They kept pressing on my belly to get my uterus to clamp down as the midwife began to assess the damage and stitch the skin that had torn. I remember lying in the bed willing them to stop and thinking that this was all so much more painful than actually birthing this child. The “magical hour” that I was promised where I would bond with my baby and revel in the sweet relief of being done was more like “nightmare hour” where I was catheterized, pumped full of pitocin, and stitched back together. It was a living hell.
In the days and weeks that followed, it seemed to me that I was healing at a slower rate than I should have been, but like most new mamas, almost all of my attention and energy went into taking care of Ellie and not taking time to go to the doctor or worry about my own well being. When I went in for my 6 week check up, I’m not sure I adequately explained how much pain I was still experiencing, believing that it was all probably normal for the degree of tearing that I had. In the U.S., barring any major complications, this single 6 week check up is typically the only postpartum care that a woman receives. The United State’s healthcare system is OBSESSED with the health and well-being of moms and babies during pregnancy often calling for an obscene amount of testing and check-ups, but once baby is earthside, it’s sort of expected that all is fine and that care for the mama is no longer really needed. After 5 months of pain, I finally went back to the doctor for another check and they discovered that my stitches had not healed correctly and I had developed an excessive amount of scar tissue. This was repaired through surgery, which essentially led to another 6-8 week postpartum recovery period. I was much more up front with my surgeon at my post-op appointments about the pain I still seemed to be experiencing and how my pelvic muscles seemed to be out of whack. He referred me to a pelvic floor physical therapist.
What is a pelvic floor physical therapist you ask? They are PT’s whose job is to help people to reestablish the use and function of their pelvic floor. You’ve never heard of one you say? That’s probably because most doctors don’t even know they exist, let alone refer their patients. It’s a travesty. Pregnancy and birth transform a woman’s body and sometimes things don’t “just go back to normal.” A pelvic floor therapist can help assess areas of weakness and help to establish simple exercises to regain strength and function. The pelvic floor is a muscle just like any other area of the body and it needs to be exercised and cared for. After a few short visits with an angel named Jessica, I finally (nearly 9 months after giving birth) felt like a normal human again.
This time around, I’ve adjusted my “plans” a bit starting with the fact that I don’t really have any plans. I know that through the whole experience, I’ll have a voice and can ask for what I need as it arises. I’ve chosen to work with a doctor this time instead of a midwife. I don’t blame the midwife for my afterbirth experience or that the repair did not heal properly, however if s%@t hits the fan again after Owen is born, I want someone who has seen it all standing at the other end of the bed and calling the shots. Midwives are wonderful, wonderful people and I have so much respect for the profession and feel incredibly grateful that they are an option, but I also know that the bulk of their training is in the realm of what’s considered “normal.” I’m not convinced that a doctor should not have been called in after Ellie was born. I’m also keeping an open mind to the option of the “E” word this time. I often wonder that if I had an epidural with Eliie if I could have better listened to the directions of the midwife during birth, maybe done less damage to my own body, and perhaps enjoyed the hours following her birth instead of writing in pain while being put back together. The last thing I know is that I’ll be asking directly for a prescription for pelvic floor therapy at my 6 week appointment regardless of how I’m feeling to make sure that things are healing and functioning properly. If I cannot take care of myself, I’ll never be able to properly care for these two tiny souls, and so I am choosing to prioritize self-care this time.
God is the only one who knows how and when this baby will be born. In the meantime, I intend to take a lot of naps, enjoy the last beautiful days as a mama of one, dote a little extra love and affection on my family, and exclusively wear yoga pants. And I know that when the time comes, I’ll be in good hands trusting my instincts and my team.
Life After Birth 