Birth story: “The gynecologist wants to perform a cesarean section, but I shout that I can still feel everything”
It starts on Monday, November 4 at 9:00 AM
I was connected to a monitor for an hour to track the baby. I was 39 weeks and 5 days pregnant. After an hour, the assistant gynecologist came to do an ultrasound. The doctor saw that you are estimated to weigh about 4.1 kilograms. In a discussion with the doctor, we decided to place a 'little loop' on Wednesday so that I could start labor on Thursday morning fresh and with a little head start. My plan to give birth naturally was already lost by then, and I didn't mind it (thinking of those 4 kilograms).
On Wednesday evening, dad and I arrive hesitantly at the maternity ward. It's busy. After an hour, we are settled in and at 10 PM I receive the 'little lace', something that is supposed to reduce the cervix. At 00:30 AM, I wake up to cramps in my stomach. "Is this what real contractions feel like?" They start to come in earnest, something no one had anticipated. By 5 AM, I am tired and in pain. The shower only brings temporary relief. What a long and exhausting night. Dad is tired too, having spent the whole night saying sweet things and rubbing my back. We are also lucky, as there is only one other lady who has her own midwife. At 8 AM, my water breaks at the top, because only occasionally something leaks out. The doctor then breaks it completely. After this, the contractions come quickly, which is extremely painful. Especially after no sleep and a difficult night, we soon decide to go for an epidural. What a relief. As the hours pass, the centimeters also increase. Most likely, our baby will be born today!
When we have reached 8 centimeters, the heart sometimes performs less well
It's not bad in itself, but the doctor is still worried and places a STAN. A wire on the head that tells us directly how the little one is doing. The word cesarean is mentioned and as a precaution, I'm already put in an OR gown. The last 2 centimeters are difficult and only come after four hours. Just when your maraintje comes to visit, we finally reach 10 cm. The midwife says I can push when there's a contraction. The only question is how? I feel the pressure, I feel the strength, but this is very difficult. I push and push during a contraction, but I feel that it's not working. Am I doing it wrong? The baby's heart starts to struggle again. The doctor arrives around 6:25 PM and decides to put the suction cup on the baby's head to help with the delivery. After a few attempts, it turns out this doesn't work either. Meanwhile, the pediatrician is there, just in case. After what seems like an eternity, the doctor says: 'Liesbeth, you need to push better, otherwise it will be a cesarean'. I push as if my life depends on it. Two gynecologists pull and tug at the baby with the suction cup. Two midwives push hard on my belly. So incredibly painful, so incredibly exhausting. Dad stands next to me and I hear the fear in his voice. Yet he is the one who doesn't want to give up and keeps saying things in my ear. After a lot of painful tugging, I'm literally spent. I've been awake for almost 24 hours with just some sandwiches to eat. The midwives and doctors do their best, but there's no progress. After 10 minutes, the doctor decides it will be a cesarean. The little one has to come out. She's in distress and needs oxygen.
This piece is just like in the movies
I am laid back on my bed, exhausted, not knowing what is happening. Everyone walks away and I am left with the midwife. Despite the panic and chaos, she tells me what will happen. I am laid on the bed, bombarded with a thousand questions and a mask is placed over my mouth. The only question I have is: 'Is my baby okay?' The doctor wants to cut quickly, but after a few pricks, I keep repeating that I can feel the pain. The pain of a knife on my skin. She can't and won't wait any longer and starts the cesarean section. I was only numbed with my epidural, but not nearly enough to be cut open. I scream that it hurts, that I feel it all too well. Somewhere I hope that they will put me completely to sleep, so I don't have to feel that pain anymore. The doctor says that you need to come out so urgently, that she will have to continue. She cuts a second time. I quickly become nauseous from the pain that does not get any better. I start to scream, to howl from the pain. Panic completely takes over me. The midwife and dad, each on one side of my head, keep talking to me. How hard this must be for him as well. After this moment, I lose track. I think they have drugged me, because there is a part I don't remember. My little one is born at 6:52 PM. He is quickly placed on my chest for skin to skin contact. All I can think is that he is okay. That he is here. That he is healthy. The pediatrician takes him for an examination along with dad. You weigh 4.4 kilos.
The next thing I know is that I'm lying in a spacious room, the recovery. I'm extremely thirsty and shivering uncontrollably. It feels like I have no control over myself anymore. Gradually, I come to my senses and realize what has just happened. What a flood of emotions. I'm confused and a wreck. Dad tells me proudly that he is 54 centimeters. A giant! You would never fit through a natural delivery. His head is far too big and would never fit through my birth canal. Something they could never have known beforehand. Thanks to your little heart that failed, we were able to avoid worse. We drive together to the neonatology where our son is, because his head has suffered a lot of damage from the vacuum. He is placed on the chest and all emotions are released. This image is also too much for dad and we collapse into each other. I could never have done this without your dad. He was truly a rock in the surf, a real hero to me. I'm sure he will always be the hero of our son as well.
I didn't sleep much last night. A lot of pain, a lot of sorrow, and too many emotions. It will take a while for my physical wounds to heal, but even longer for those in our minds to mend. How I love my son 'little' Levi. Always
LISBETH
