Posts Tagged ‘c-section’

What’s to like about a c-section?

Tuesday, June 12th, 2012

Welcome to the June 2012 Carnival of Natural Parenting: Embracing Your Birth Experience

This post was written for inclusion in the monthly Carnival of Natural Parenting hosted by Code Name: Mama and Hobo Mama. This month our participants have written about at least one part of their birth experience that they can hold up and cherish.

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Don’t get me wrong; the homebirth I had with my second child was by far the birth experience I would want to repeat if given the choice. I would never have signed up for the c-section I had in 2006, when my breech son failed to drop because, we later found out, he had a short cord, only 8 inches long.

But even though it wasn’t what I wanted, I am grateful for several aspects of the experience. Compared to some other moms whose stories I’ve heard at meetings of my local chapter of the International Cesarean Awareness Network, my family was treated with respect, and my birth experience was not as traumatic as it could have been in different hands.

My OB — who always said my “next one would be natural” — allowed my craniosacral therapist into the room to videotape. Although I didn’t watch the actual surgery part until a year later, I was immediately grateful to have footage of our first moments together. When you are so disconnected from what is happening, the physical imprint of memory is not there.

What was there was a big sheet between me and my baby! So having footage of his first moments, blinking directly into the eyes of my doctor. The video allowed me later to see him when he was taken to the side of the room where my eyes could not follow.

One memory I didn’t need captured on tape but I still loved watching later was when my son was first brought over to my face. He wrapped one hand around one of my fingers and the other around my husband’s, and we sang to him, “You Are My Sunshine.” It was so clear that he knew us, knew our voices, knew the song. More joyful tears have never been shed.

When he turned one year old, I watched more of the footage of my husband following him to the nursery. I was so moved to watch my husband standing over him to shield him from lights and talking to him. Those were lost minutes to me, when the doctors stitched me up while talking about March Madness basketball. The apartness of mother and baby in that first hour is one of the most bizarre things about a c-section.

Later that night, the nurses, knowing that the birth was a far cry from the birth center birth we’d wanted, let us warm our son with skin to skin contact, first with me and hours later on my husband’s chest. That was a profound experience for my husband, and one of my favorite memories.

By contrast, my daughter’s unmedicated birth at home was almost too fast — 4.5 hours from start to finish — for me to really inhabit the experience. And when she was born, a cry of “short cord! Don’t pull her all the way out of the water!” created memories of confusion and concern as I tried to maneuver a too-quiet, tired, and funny-looking baby. She was, and is, fine, but compared to the perfect-looking head of a c-section baby and clear-cut (no pun intended) nature of a surgical delivery, I was surprised by the lack of elation and triumph when my daughter was born at home. Couple those first two or three minutes of awkward positioning in the birth tub and giving us both homeopathic pellets with the fact that my placenta took another 4.5 hours to come. It was hard to settle into new (second) motherhood until I knew I wasn’t going to have to go back to the hospital. When my son was born at the hospital, it wasn’t what I wanted, but it was without a wondering and waiting period.

I’m grateful for my first birth for helping me to be more compassionate about the wide range of birth experiences women have (and then, for breastfeeding struggles, which I had none of the second time around). I know it isn’t always easy, and you can’t always get what you want. And even when you get what you want, it still doesn’t look like you expected.

Our experiences lead us on journeys we can’t anticipate and teach us in the ways we somehow needed to grow. My son has six years under his belt and eight teeth out of his mouth already. And he still has that intense gaze he had right out of the belly.

And my daughter, who entered the world tuckered out and too floppy to hold my finger right away. She’s a pistol of a toddler with a whole lot to say and no lack of fire in her belly. You just never know.

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Carnival of Natural Parenting -- Hobo Mama and Code Name: MamaVisit Code Name: Mama and Hobo Mama to find out how you can participate in the next Carnival of Natural Parenting!

Please take time to read the submissions by the other carnival participants:

(This list will be live and updated by afternoon June 12 with all the carnival links.)

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Healing the c-section scar

Thursday, October 28th, 2010

I knew when I went in for my c-section in 2006 that the effects would be lasting, but I only recently realized to what extent. I tend to hold on to emotion through my body, and since the need for a surgical delivery was profoundly disappointing to me, I expected that it would take my body and heart a while to get over the method of my son’s entry into the world.

Last spring, before I conceived, my doctor’s muscle-testing and her colleague’s computer scan of my energy meridians showed my body sort of “divided” at the midline. After that, I began using a laser after acupuncture treatments at their office to help the scar heal. Before bed, I would massage sesame oil into my scar at night to help it loosen. I also felt called to use the essential oil SARA from Young Living Oils, a blend that markets itself as being for sexual trauma.  After I got pregnant on the first try, I essentially gave up thinking about my scar and turned my energy toward worrying about whether or not I could manage to have a successful natural birth.

Now I’m 12 weeks postpartum after a homebirth VBAC, or HBAC. So you’d think I’d have gotten over the c-section, but apparently not! I noticed that my first attempts to jog around eight weeks after my daughter’s birth — just a mile and a half or two! and slowly! — had me later feeling like my pelvis was aching. This was not the case with my son. With him, I didn’t try any exercise — or much of anything else — until ten weeks and then went out for four miles and felt great.

I figured the discomfort was product of the different method of birth and also the fact that, instead of staying home, napping, and healing like I did in 2006, this time I’m running around with a preschooler, volunteering for his school, running a mom’s group, and trying to have something like a freelance writing and editing career. Not much time for rest, and so many things I want to do!

I mentioned all this to Dr. Jennifer Mercier, who was selling her new book Women’s Optimal Pelvic Health with Mercier Therapy just behind our Holistic Moms table at the Freedom for Family Wellness Summit last weekend. She offered to work on me.

Dr. Jennifer Mercier discussing pelvic health

It hadn’t occurred to me that any of my discomfort was related to my c-section scar. I thought it had to do with my pelvis spreading internally. The word that came to mind after I ran or spent a lot of time on my feet was “crushed.” That sounds dramatic, but I felt like my pelvis had been sort of crushed in a car accident years ago and that what I felt was the residual dull ache.

But then she started palpating my scar. It hurt. It was hot, like a muscle with a lot of tension. She noted that my scar was very close to my pubic bone. She worked on it for a few minutes, rubbing it like you would a knot you’re trying to knead out. Then she had me do some resistance exercises. I was on my back with my knees bent, and I tried to pull them together while she tried to push them apart, three times for 10 seconds.

After she was done, she pressed on the scar again and asked how I felt. It didn’t hurt. “If you’re seriously putting the same amount of pressure as you were before, then that is am amazing difference,” I told her. She said she was. And she showed me how to work on my scar myself, by applying pressure and then pulling up and down off the pubic bone.

The next day, we took a long family walk, and I jogged a little bit of it. Zero ache the next day. Seriously. I was pretty impressed.

Dr. Mercier told me she developed her method through the study of osteopathy. I happened to have an appointment a few days later with my osteopath, Dr. D. I told her about my experience a few days earlier. Dr. D. was pulled into my pelvis and told me to put my hands on my scar and imagine pulling up, just energetically, but the same motion Dr. Mercier had recommended.

Through my work with Dr. D, I felt some major releases, and, at one point, like my whole body went light — illuminated — from my scar down and from my scar up — like a bright light moving in both directions from my middle. It was pretty intense, and pretty amazing. I left feeling much less emotional and testy and much more in a place of acceptance than when I walked in (even though I didn’t think any of my crabby mood had anything to do with my surgery four and a half years ago).

I have started reading Dr. Mercier’s book and am going to recommend it to anyone I know who is (or knows someone who is) dealing with infertility or cycle issues.

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