In my case the c-section was unavoidable. Of course I wanted a vaginal birth, don't most women? Since my daughter was breach and the cord was prolapsed and my water broke, there wasn't much else they could do except quickly delivery my baby girl. One of the good things about it being such a quick emergency was that I didn't have the pre-surgery jitters. Before I really knew what was happening they had my IV in, my catheter in, I signed a bunch of paperwork, and we were being whisked away to an operating room. To think I never even researched what it meant to have a prolapsed cord until now?
What is a cord prolapse?
Cord Prolapse also called an Umbilical Cord Prolapse - or UCP - is a very rare obstetrical emergency which can result in a birth injury or worse.
It is when your baby's umbilical cord descends alongside - or before - his head (or his bottom or feet if breech). A cord prolapse can be life threatening to your baby since blood flow - and therefore oxygen - through his umbilical cord is usually compromised due to cord compression.
Yet keep in mind that a cord prolapse is very rare and occurs in 0.14 to 0.62 percent of all births. In a study performed at the John Radcliffe Hospital between January 1984 and December 1992, the incidence of cord prolapse was 1 in 426 births or .23%.
I guess this is a very rare thing, which probably explains why I was in the operating room so quick.I remember being wheeled into the operating room, the very brightly lit, yet somehow very cold, operating room. It seemed like there were 10 people in the room working on this and that. I had to change beds and sit up while a student attempted a spinal block. I don't remember the stick really hurting that bad. After two failed sticks the actual doctor got it in. It seems like I always get stuck with the students and I try not to complain. I goo laid out, people were busy all around me. I was covered with blankets, my legs had air things on them that massages so I don't end up getting a deadly blood clot. I had an air mask over my face. There was a lady nurse near my head asking how I am doing. I think I am doing ok considering. Kris comes into the room, they tell me they are about to start, I tell them I am not numb yet. I tell them again I am not yet numb but apparently they already cut so I guess I was numb after all. Being cut and not being numb is a fear of mine. Kris was holding my hand, the nurse at my head asked me to take deep breaths. I asked Kris, "am I taking deep breaths?" because I honestly can't really tell. I just want it to be over and it seems like it took forever! I feel the pressure but I don't remember it hurting, Kris asked me if I heard the baby, I don't, then I do, then I feel relieved. I see a little scrunched face peeking out of blankets and a hat and then she is gone, Kris is gone and I am still laying there for what seemed like forever while they finish putting me back together. Then I start to shake uncontrollably. Apparently this is normal, but quite terrifying. I can't stop shaking, I want them to hurry up and finish, I have no idea how much the baby weighed, no one is really talking to me and I can't stop shaking. I don't know how long it took to finish but it seemed like forever. I don't know how long I shook but it hurt. After they finished for what seemed like an hour I was rolled to a recovery area, alone. I wish I could have slept but this was around 8:30 in the morning and I was not tired. I laid in the recovery room shaking, listening to the blood pressure monitors beeping alarms. A nurse would come over and tell me to relax, ask me if I could feel my legs. I guess they would put something in my IV but nothing stopped the shaking. Shaking. If I had to pick the worse thing about the entire procedure it would have to be the uncontrollably shaking. Next would be the fear that my blood pressure was going to cause me to stroke out. Of course now that I think back I realize they have medication to prevent that but I was still about to have a panic attack thinking about it.
So my morning had started out normal until my water broke, now a few hours later I found myself laying in a recovery room, shaking, no longer pregnant, no clue where my husband and baby were, not even sure if my baby was ok, no idea how much she weighed or how tall she was. I didn't know how long it would take me to recover, I didn't think I would ever stop shaking, and I was quite certain my blood pressure was going to kill me.
But as they say, time heals. I don't know how long I was there but by the time they wheeled me into the room it was still sometime in the morning. I delivered at 8:11 so it couldn't have been more than a few hours. When I entered the room I saw Kris holding our baby, looking at it like he couldn't believe it. They hooked me up to a bunch of contraptions and left. We were alone. I finally found out how big Summer was, 7 pounds, 11 ounces, and how tall, 18.5 inches. I finally got to hold her and look at her for the first time. I finally got to take off her little hat and see that she had light brown/blonde hair. I got to smell her, kiss her, and think about how wild it was that this little thing came out of my body. I used my phone to take pictures of her and sent it to all of my friends and family. I called my mom. After all of the trauma I had gone through I now felt ok. I mean I wasn't all better, I was still healing from being cut open, still worried about my high blood pressure, dealing with a catheter, I was hooked up to IVs, annoyed at the leg massages, trying to blow into the plastic ball thing, bleeding, wearing a hospital gown, but all that didn't seem as bad.
I still remember the fear, the shaking, and the joys but time did eventually heal me. It all worked out for the best. While my c-section was necessary and while they are commonly practiced, it was still a very scary and traumatic experience for me. Of course it was worth it and if I have to do it again I will, but I sure hope I don't have to.
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