Part VI – Retrospective

Would I do it all again? First of all, I’ve no regrets. I believe everything happened the way it was supposed to. Even with the pitocin, the IV, the epidural, etc., I think I (we) only did things that were actually necessary. I don't exactly like that these things were necessary, but I can truly say that I gave myself every possible chance of having a totally natural home birth, and it just wasn’t meant to go that way. And, given the bleeding and the extent of the meconium, perhaps if I’d been at home and these had occurred, the situation would have been more disastrous. I can’t say for sure, but I have to believe that something bigger than we know brought us to the hospital. We were just supposed to be there. I felt in control most of the time. At least, as in control as I can be. I made the choices. I chose what to fight and what not to fight. I chose going to the hospital rather than waiting it out. This birth was very much on my own terms, and I’m grateful to everything that happened before those days that brought me to be able to make those choices for myself. Of the things that would be in my power to change, I would not change a thing. But to do it again? It’s so complicated. First, I’ve always said I wanted three children. But, perhaps it’s because we’ve recently taken a massive blow to our finances that has no immediate means to remedy itself, a third child is a little scary right now. We don’t have a lot of space in our home to begin with, and I would want some hope of being able to move into a larger house. At this moment, it’s not going to happen. So, we’ll see. Economic factors aside, do I want to be pregnant again? I think that part would be ok. I really kind of enjoy being pregnant, but admittedly I was somewhat distracted this time and didn’t enjoy it as much as I wanted. Plus, the hot, hot summer was miserable. But if we do decide to have another baby, those are things that will be different – unique to the pregnancy itself. But, the part that is terrifying to me is, having to go through so much labor again. I would want to do it at home again, and if things didn’t progress as it happened this time, I would really start to question my body. I already am in a lot of ways. Why 4cm? Again? Sure, I can chalk up LittleGirl’s birth to a lot of tension and a hyperactive doctor with a great fear of litigation and apparently not enough time to consider his patients’ needs. And only being in labor for a few hours as I see it, I don’t think I was given a chance. But this time… jeez, I did everything. I gave myself time. I chanted things like "ohhh-pen… ohh-pen" and "I can do this" over and over again. I visualized. I relaxed. I rested as much as I could. I allowed myself time. I was loved and supported and free to labor however I needed to from moment to moment. But in the end, the only thing that really got me going was the pitocin. WTF? Maybe I was tired. I probably was. I hadn’t slept much that whole week. And maybe the combination of pitocin and a little rest really was all I needed, and if I’d been rested enough to begin with I would have been fine. But I just don’t know. And the thought of going through all that again only to land in the hospital – and by the way, no hope of an epidural ever again since my track record stands 0 for 2 in reacting well – it’s a little much to bare. But there’s nothing that says any of that would ever happen again. And then, there’s My Beloved. He was wonderful, patient, supportive, amazing. In reading back through my previous entries, I didn’t emphasize how amazing he was. I don’t know if I can now – if the words even exist. I could not have done it without him. We were so close, so connected. He was everything I knew I needed him to be and everything I didn’t know I needed. He truly was the rock that I clung to. So strong. So loving. I’ve always known he loved me, but I don’t think I have ever seen or felt it as much as I did when we were having our baby. He just knew who to be, what to do, how to love me, how to get me through it all. There would have been no VBAC without him. And even if there had been, it wouldn’t have held the same glory. That said, if you asked him today, he would tell you that he does not want to try to have another baby at home. He’s not sure he wants a third child anyway; and we’ve agreed to put that topic on hold for at least a year. But after seeing all the blood from my tear, (I did not require a transfusion, but there really was a lot of blood lost) and all the meconium that came out of Lindsay, he is no where near as confident about the safety of it all as he was before. He doesn’t think that these same situations would have been handled well by a home care provider. I can’t say as I know they would have either. But I know that a different baby brings a different labor. And I know that since we listened to ourselves, our instincts, my body, we made the right choices this time, and would likely do the same next time. But he doesn’t believe in divine intervention like I do. His faith is more easily shaken than mine is. The moments after her birth were really scary for him, and he thought he might lose one or both of us. I don’t know what to say to that. So, another baby is possible, but we just don’t know right now. I believe that you have another child because you feel your family is missing somebody, and every other reason to do it or not to do it is secondary to that. It’s just too soon to tell right now if that’s where we are. The really complicated part comes in the logistics. It could happen that another pregnancy would be more stressful, because we may never come to a place where we’re on the same page again. I still feel strongly that most births do not belong in hospitals. He now feels that for us, the gamut of emergencies that are better dealt with in a hospital is broader than he realized. It’s not important to argue about it now, but it’s going to be a major thing if we choose to have another baby.