I watched the ABC story tonight about Randy Pausch, who is dying of terminal cancer. Something he said really spoke to me when I thought about Cesarean Awareness Month. He said not to tell people how to live their lives. “Tell them stories,” he said. They’ll figure out how your story applies to their lives.
Just tell me your story. Tell an OB your story. Tell another mother your story. Or a nurse. Or your blog readers. Or your colleagues. Tell your daughter.
Leave the statistics, for now, to the scientists. They’ll spin statistics any which way they want to anyway.
A cesarean is more than an unnecessary or a life-saving surgery. It’s more than a mother strapped to a table or seeing your baby over that screen for the first time. It’s more than life or death. It’s more than right or wrong. A cesarean is a story that begins a life, and whether we like it or not, a mother who makes a decision to have a cesarean is choosing what she believes to be the safest birth for her baby.
If we want to reach mothers and really impact positive change, we need to tell our stories. If I tell a mother that statistics show women are less likely to have more children after a cesarean, she’ll just tell me that she had five children and five c-sections and she’s “just fine.” So what you need to say instead is that you had a c-section and experienced secondary infertility, or that you labored with Pitocin, had a ruptured uterus and a hysterectomy and now you can’t have more children. Or simply say you had a cesarean and now you’re scared to do it again, so you don’t have any more children.
There are so many choices to make each time you begin the journey to motherhood. Many of the choices aren’t easy ones to make. I think one of our goals should be to help mothers make these choices out of love, instead of fear. A mother should not be scared into a cesarean by words such as, “your baby is too big”, “your uterus will explode,” or “your baby is overdue”. Our children, and their children, are counting on us to protect normal, healthy birth. Nothing in life is without risks. Even with a cesarean, there are risks. Sometimes a c-section is the only way (placenta previa, for example). Sometimes it is necessary but preventable (induction on due date, epidural, mom immobilized, baby’s heart rate crashes). Sometimes, it’s just plain unnecessary (unreliable 38 week ultrasound says baby is over 8lbs so a section is scheduled for 39 weeks, and baby is born weighing just 7lbs).
Should I need to see an OB for a future pregnancy, I would ask her to hear my stories. I would tell her that I had a c-section and it made me cry. I’d tell her that it hurt my feelings that she and her colleagues talked over my naked body like I wasn’t there. I would tell her that she was a good surgeon and my physical scar healed nicely, but that inside I still hurt. I would tell her that more than anything, what I want from my pregnancy and labor care provider is to be listened to, loved and treated with respect.
Don’t let your voice fade or your story be forgotten.
for more information about cesareans, cesarean awareness, or VBACs please visit ICAN
Showing posts with label c-section. Show all posts
Showing posts with label c-section. Show all posts
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Dear baby sister
This post will contain many Christian references. If that makes you uncomfortable I apologize, but my faith plays a significant part in my birthing philosophy. If my Savior can be born on a dusty floor among smelly livestock, then surely my children can be born in the comfort and safety of our home.
I’ve wanted to write this to you for a year now and just haven’t found the time. Or maybe I had the time and the words just wouldn’t come to me the way I hoped they would. I wanted you to know what an impact your pregnancy and the loss of your son have had on my life.
I’ve heard many times that when a teenage girl loses her baby, it must be “God’s punishment” for her being sexually active outside of marriage. I wholeheartedly disagree. First, “children are an heritage of the LORD: and the fruit of the womb is his reward” (Psalms 127:3 KJV). He would never use a child to punish someone. Second, I believe that if any “punishment” is necessary, the trials of raising a child at 15 should serve as punishment enough.
There was an article in ParentLife magazine this month that really spoke to me when I thought about you and your son. The author writes, “He was ready for [him] to join Him in heaven, and He chose you to carry out [his] fate because He knew you’d be strong enough to handle it.” The Lord didn’t give you a son and then take him to punish you. A child is a blessing, whether you’re 15 or 40. I hope you don’t find this selfish on my part, but for me, Izaiah’s life and death helped me on my second pregnancy journey. After having had such a horrifying pregnancy and c-section with Sarah, my faith in God and faith in His creation of birth was severely shaken. Broken. I said I wanted to give birth to my son at home, and the way I was designed to give birth, but in my heart I didn’t really believe that would happen. I didn’t think I could do it and I didn’t think the Lord would help me.
If Izaiah’s death was not to punish you, then what was the purpose? What was the purpose of his short little life? It was no accident that mom wasn’t free to take you do the doctor the day you found out Izaiah had died. It wasn’t an accident that I was a stay-at-home-mom and everyone else in the family either worked or was at school that morning. The Lord purposed for my hand to be the one holding yours when the doctor walked in to tell us. Then to see you laboring that night, and all the next day for a baby who would never see your face, spoke to my soul. The Lord protected you through a terrible day and a half pitocin-induced labor. He gave you grace and peace. Before you got the epidural, and you were feeling your body painfully hug your sweet departed son, you never yelled out to anyone, “just take this dead baby out of me!” No one would have blamed you if you had. Labor can be painful even when the mother knows there is a sweet reward waiting just on the other side. For only sadness and pain to be awaiting you, everyone would have understood.
Then two months later, my son was conceived. A son, just like yours. How could I not have faith after witnessing your trial? Could I honestly say that the Lord protected a 15 year old girl through trying pregnancy and death of her son, but would not protect me as I birthed my son at home after having had a cesarean? I did worry during my pregnancy. I worried that my son would die before I saw his face. But then I would think about you and Izaiah, and I would trust the Lord. I would think about your love for your son, and the Father’s love for you, and I would trust Him.
I pray that I will never truly know your loss, and I pray that the Lord will continually teach you and draw you closer to him through it. I thank the Lord often for Izaiah’s life and death. Izaiah’s death and Caleb’s birth have taken me to a place in my relationship with the Lord that would not have been possible otherwise. I hope, I hope… that this can bring some comfort to you sister.
I’ve wanted to write this to you for a year now and just haven’t found the time. Or maybe I had the time and the words just wouldn’t come to me the way I hoped they would. I wanted you to know what an impact your pregnancy and the loss of your son have had on my life.
I’ve heard many times that when a teenage girl loses her baby, it must be “God’s punishment” for her being sexually active outside of marriage. I wholeheartedly disagree. First, “children are an heritage of the LORD: and the fruit of the womb is his reward” (Psalms 127:3 KJV). He would never use a child to punish someone. Second, I believe that if any “punishment” is necessary, the trials of raising a child at 15 should serve as punishment enough.
There was an article in ParentLife magazine this month that really spoke to me when I thought about you and your son. The author writes, “He was ready for [him] to join Him in heaven, and He chose you to carry out [his] fate because He knew you’d be strong enough to handle it.” The Lord didn’t give you a son and then take him to punish you. A child is a blessing, whether you’re 15 or 40. I hope you don’t find this selfish on my part, but for me, Izaiah’s life and death helped me on my second pregnancy journey. After having had such a horrifying pregnancy and c-section with Sarah, my faith in God and faith in His creation of birth was severely shaken. Broken. I said I wanted to give birth to my son at home, and the way I was designed to give birth, but in my heart I didn’t really believe that would happen. I didn’t think I could do it and I didn’t think the Lord would help me.
If Izaiah’s death was not to punish you, then what was the purpose? What was the purpose of his short little life? It was no accident that mom wasn’t free to take you do the doctor the day you found out Izaiah had died. It wasn’t an accident that I was a stay-at-home-mom and everyone else in the family either worked or was at school that morning. The Lord purposed for my hand to be the one holding yours when the doctor walked in to tell us. Then to see you laboring that night, and all the next day for a baby who would never see your face, spoke to my soul. The Lord protected you through a terrible day and a half pitocin-induced labor. He gave you grace and peace. Before you got the epidural, and you were feeling your body painfully hug your sweet departed son, you never yelled out to anyone, “just take this dead baby out of me!” No one would have blamed you if you had. Labor can be painful even when the mother knows there is a sweet reward waiting just on the other side. For only sadness and pain to be awaiting you, everyone would have understood.
Then two months later, my son was conceived. A son, just like yours. How could I not have faith after witnessing your trial? Could I honestly say that the Lord protected a 15 year old girl through trying pregnancy and death of her son, but would not protect me as I birthed my son at home after having had a cesarean? I did worry during my pregnancy. I worried that my son would die before I saw his face. But then I would think about you and Izaiah, and I would trust the Lord. I would think about your love for your son, and the Father’s love for you, and I would trust Him.
I pray that I will never truly know your loss, and I pray that the Lord will continually teach you and draw you closer to him through it. I thank the Lord often for Izaiah’s life and death. Izaiah’s death and Caleb’s birth have taken me to a place in my relationship with the Lord that would not have been possible otherwise. I hope, I hope… that this can bring some comfort to you sister.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Why are you anthropomorphizing the scar so much?
Susanne (I’d link to her blog here, but I don’t know if she has one) asked me this question
“Wow, Becky. What's the big deal of "So mama can begin life with The Scar"? Why are you anthropomorphizing the scar so much? What's the big deal about having one? What does it stop you from doing, and why does it bear any relevance whatsoever in your life the moment it heals?”
Anthropomorphizing basically means to place human characteristics upon that which is not human. In literature, we call it personification. Until you asked your question, I hadn’t thought about it. After looking back at some of what I’ve written, I think it’s because if I give the Scar a life and character of it’s own, I can detach from it. The Scar is not me; the Scar is the Scar. It’s an ugly scar and I don’t like to think of it as part of my body. My body was “fearfully and wonderfully made” and this Scar surely was not.
What does the Scar stop me from doing? Why does it bear any relevance in my life? Because I have this scar I cannot give birth in a birth center. Because I have this scar, many midwives are legally not allowed to attend my births. Because I have this scar, there is a very large number of hospitals around this country that will not “allow” me to give birth as I was created to. Because of this scar, there is a dwindling number of doctors who would attend my subsequent vaginal births. Because of this scar, I will be forced to drive long distances to find a willing care provider. Because of this scar, I have to hear comments from ignorant strangers and family members, “but aren’t you afraid your uterus will explode?!”
Because of this Scar.
My chicken pox scars don’t prevent me from doing anything. No one worries about my old pimple scars. OBs don’t mind if you have old scars from a broken wrist.
“Wow, Becky. What's the big deal of "So mama can begin life with The Scar"? Why are you anthropomorphizing the scar so much? What's the big deal about having one? What does it stop you from doing, and why does it bear any relevance whatsoever in your life the moment it heals?”
Anthropomorphizing basically means to place human characteristics upon that which is not human. In literature, we call it personification. Until you asked your question, I hadn’t thought about it. After looking back at some of what I’ve written, I think it’s because if I give the Scar a life and character of it’s own, I can detach from it. The Scar is not me; the Scar is the Scar. It’s an ugly scar and I don’t like to think of it as part of my body. My body was “fearfully and wonderfully made” and this Scar surely was not.
What does the Scar stop me from doing? Why does it bear any relevance in my life? Because I have this scar I cannot give birth in a birth center. Because I have this scar, many midwives are legally not allowed to attend my births. Because I have this scar, there is a very large number of hospitals around this country that will not “allow” me to give birth as I was created to. Because of this scar, there is a dwindling number of doctors who would attend my subsequent vaginal births. Because of this scar, I will be forced to drive long distances to find a willing care provider. Because of this scar, I have to hear comments from ignorant strangers and family members, “but aren’t you afraid your uterus will explode?!”
Because of this Scar.
My chicken pox scars don’t prevent me from doing anything. No one worries about my old pimple scars. OBs don’t mind if you have old scars from a broken wrist.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Hush little baby
Hush Little Baby
(The American birth experience version)
(The American birth experience version)
Hush little baby don’t say a word
Mama’s got the best doctor in the world
And if he says to stay in bed
mama won’t worry her little head
And if he says here take this drug
mama’s gonna trust his lyin’ mug
And when they strap her belly tight
Mama tries to hold still with all her might
And when some food would sure taste nice
Mama has to beg for chips of ice
And if that baby just won’t come
Mama’s just fine, she’s almost numb
And then they’ll wheel her to the OR
So mama can begin life with The Scar
Now mama’s high and gutted good
And baby’s choking down fake nursery food
But it’s okay, baby don’t you fear
The only thing that matters is that you’re here
Thursday, February 7, 2008
ICAN's response to ACOG and AABC
*For Immediate Release *
**
*ICAN's Response to ACOG AND AABC Statements on VBAC and Homebirth*
*Redondo Beach, CA, February 7, 2008:* The International Cesarean Awareness
Network (*www.ican-online.org*) would like to publicly condemn both the AABC
and the ACOG for their statements* this week that limit not only women's
choices in birth but imply that birth is a fashion rather than a safety
concern.
Since VBAC is the biological normal outcome of a pregnancy after cesarean,
ICAN encourages women to get all of the facts about vaginal birth and
elective cesarean before making a choice. This decision should not include
weighing the choices of your doctor's malpractice payments but only be a
concern of the mother and her support system.
Since some mothers will make the choice to give birth outside of the
hospital, we encourage the AABC to not cave into ACOG's demands that all
women give birth in a hospital facility with a surgical specialist, but
instead allow women to make their own choices about care providers, birth
settings and risk factors. ICAN respects the intelligence of modern women
and accepts that the amount of information available about VBAC and elective
cesarean should serve as informed consent.
ICAN further encourages the governments of individual states to look closely
at their cesarean rates (31.1% national cesarean rate as of 2006) and the
informed consent laws that apply and help women to reach a standard of care
that lowers the risks of major surgery and the risks of elective or coerced
induction without medical indication. Women and children should not bear the
brunt of malpractice risks being conveyed into physical, mental, emotional
and spiritual health risks in order to protect their physicians.
*Mission statement: ICAN is a nonprofit organization whose mission is to
improve maternal-child health by preventing unnecessary cesareans through
education, providing support for cesarean recovery and promoting vaginal
birth after cesarean. There are more than 94 ICAN Chapters across North
America, which hold educational and support meetings for people interested
in cesarean prevention and recovery.*
* AABC statement: *
http://www.birthcenters.org/files/file.php?id=2&file=file&file_type=file_type
*
ACOG statement: *
http://www.acog.org/from_home/publications/press_releases/nr02-06-08-2.cfm*
**
*ICAN's Response to ACOG AND AABC Statements on VBAC and Homebirth*
*Redondo Beach, CA, February 7, 2008:* The International Cesarean Awareness
Network (*www.ican-online.org*) would like to publicly condemn both the AABC
and the ACOG for their statements* this week that limit not only women's
choices in birth but imply that birth is a fashion rather than a safety
concern.
Since VBAC is the biological normal outcome of a pregnancy after cesarean,
ICAN encourages women to get all of the facts about vaginal birth and
elective cesarean before making a choice. This decision should not include
weighing the choices of your doctor's malpractice payments but only be a
concern of the mother and her support system.
Since some mothers will make the choice to give birth outside of the
hospital, we encourage the AABC to not cave into ACOG's demands that all
women give birth in a hospital facility with a surgical specialist, but
instead allow women to make their own choices about care providers, birth
settings and risk factors. ICAN respects the intelligence of modern women
and accepts that the amount of information available about VBAC and elective
cesarean should serve as informed consent.
ICAN further encourages the governments of individual states to look closely
at their cesarean rates (31.1% national cesarean rate as of 2006) and the
informed consent laws that apply and help women to reach a standard of care
that lowers the risks of major surgery and the risks of elective or coerced
induction without medical indication. Women and children should not bear the
brunt of malpractice risks being conveyed into physical, mental, emotional
and spiritual health risks in order to protect their physicians.
*Mission statement: ICAN is a nonprofit organization whose mission is to
improve maternal-child health by preventing unnecessary cesareans through
education, providing support for cesarean recovery and promoting vaginal
birth after cesarean. There are more than 94 ICAN Chapters across North
America, which hold educational and support meetings for people interested
in cesarean prevention and recovery.*
* AABC statement: *
http://www.birthcenters.org
*
ACOG statement: *
http://www.acog.org/from_home
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Have a Happy Labor
See? Labor can be fun!
9cm, (as yet) unmedicated, approximately 40th hour of laborThis was a planned homebirth (after cesarean), turned hospital transfer because we just couldn't get the little guy to come out! He was in a very bad position and neither he, nor my midwife, nor I could fix it. Something about that drive to the hospital though, for what everyone assumed would be a repeat-C, got him squared away. The thought of that knife again just scared my little man right out of me!
Monday, January 14, 2008
Why are women scared of childbirth?
Why did Christina Aguilera schedule a non-medically necessary cesarean? Why did Brittney Spears, Madonna, Claudia Schiffer, Denise Richards Victoria Beckham? Why, for that matter, does any woman schedule so-called “patient choice” cesareans?
Look in the mirror. When you speak about the births of your children, what do you say? Sadly, the only positive things most woman say about their births are “the epidural worked great, didn’t feel a thing!” or “well, at least the baby was healthy”. Why do we, as a society, insist on perpetuating the fear and pain of childbirth? Troubled as she may currently be, read what Brittney Spears had to say way back when, regarding the upcoming birth of her first child: “I don't want to go through the pain. My mom said giving birth was the most excruciating thing she's ever gone through in her life.” Shame on you, Mrs. Spears.
When I was pregnant with my first child all I ever heard were pregnancy and birth horror stories. Am I saying we should all just lie to each other about birth? No. For most women it’s not all sunshine and roses, but it’s not the end of the world, either. Some would argue that women are scared of childbirth because it’s a “great unknown”. I would say it’s because of what they think they know, based on every horror story you or I have ever told.
“But vbac,” I hear you saying, “you scare us with your c-section horror stories all the time. Aren’t you being a bit hypocritical?”
Nope. I wish we had more voices out there scaring women out of medically unnecessary sections. For those who hear my horror stories, but need (or think they need) a section anyway… don’t worry too much. My story had a mostly happy ending. (but tell that to the several women last year who died following their sections)
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Had a great fall
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall
And all the king's horses
And all the king's men
Couldn't put Humpty together again.
January 12, 2005
10:27 p.m.
3lbs, 10oz 16 inches
37 weeks, 1 day
Today is a day of mourning. Tomorrow will be a day of celebration.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Happy Birthday, Baby
January 12, 2005
Life at our house is going to be very busy for the next several days so I'm going to post this a few days early. Saturday, January 12, 2008 is my daughter's third birthday. She has become such a precocious little firecracker. Gosh, I love her so much! So much. That's why it hurts me even more that each year her birthday is stained a bit by the horrible circumstances surrounding her entrance into the world. Below is her birth video (updated last night) and a letter to my scar.
Dear Scar,
We've been together now for 3 years. I have yet to touch you comfortably (physically and emotionally), but see and think of you often. I think you're hideous, and long. You invaded my body, I didn't want you, and now I'm stuck with you forever.
Most of the time I'm mad at you. I hate you. I hate what you stand for. I hate that you were the primary concern of the hospital staff, instead of my emotional health and comfort. No one cared about me. They cared about you. Then, when I came home from the hospital, no one wanted to see you. I think you scared them. No one wanted to see because whether they admit it or not, you symbolize a horribly violent, bloody, unnatural way for a baby to enter our world. You disgust me.
And yet... and yet your presence has also brought positive change to my life. I used to think of myself as a weak person. Now, after enduring all the physical and emotional pain you brought into my life, I know that I am very strong. I am strong for myself, for my husband and for my two sweet babies.
When I became pregnant with my second child, people began to think of you again. They said I should just have you opend up and have my baby taken out of my womb again. Why not?-they said. You already have the scar, just open it up again. No big deal.
I refused to give you that power over my body, my life and my baby. Not this time. Not ever again. My life will not be dictated by you, Scar.
You stand for all that is wrong with childbirth in this country today and I am ashamed that you are a part of my body.
Sincerely,
vbacwarrior
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
I am, I love, I leave...
I know....my body was “beautifully and wonderfully made”
I believe...birth is safe
I fought....postpartum depression
I am angered....by trigger happy OBs and vbac bans
I love....each of my children
I need....someone to cry with
I take.....to heart all the birth stories I’ve been privileged to hear
I hear....mothers who are demanding change
I drink...a toast to the glory of birth
I hate.....the phrase “you should be grateful”
I use.....my blog to rage against the birth machine
I want......the midwifery model to be the standard of care in the United States
I like......Ron Paul
I feel.....like I’m not being heard
I wear.....a long, thin, purple scar on my lower abdomen
I left....the woman I was on a cold steel table 3 years ago
I hope....my two pregnant sisters avoid the knife
I dream.... of a day when birth is honored and respected
I drive....a minivan with an “ICAN VBAC” bumper sticker on it
I think.....therefore I push
I wish.... women knew how much they were being abused by modern maternity “care”
I am....a young mother with a fading physical scar and an everlasting emotional scar
I regret.........I regret
I care...about mothers and babies
I said.... “an OB cut me so every year around this time I feel the need to spill my guts"
I wonder....if women will ever realize that they’re not broken
I cry...when a mother tells me she was cut
I lose....the ability to see straight whenever I read “my doctor won’t let me…”
I leave...my sisters and daughters with a legacy of trust in birth, informed choices, and
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Babyectomy
Surgical removal of tonsils: tonsillectomy
Surgical removal of appendix: appendectomy
Surgical removal of breasts: mastectomy
Surgical removal of uterus: hysterectomy
Surgical removal of baby: babyectomy
Yes, a cesarean is surgery!
Following is the actual surgical report from my cesarean. That's right, with a
cesarean "birth"... there are no "warm fuzzy" moments. It's all about "stab incisions" and organs being extracted from your body. I'm putting this here because had I known exactly what was involved in a standard surgical birth, I would have asked more questions
and made certain preferences clear. Emphasis added.
The patient (you're not a woman, a mother, or even a human being, you are simply a "patient") was taken to the operating room where spinal anesthesia (you know, that huge needle they stick in your spine after you sign a form saying that if you become paralyzed or die that you and your family won't sue) was introduced without complication. The patient was then prepped and draped in the usual sterile manner(because there are TONS of nasty germs in a hospital and they're getting ready to cut you open and you wouldn't want an infection. That's why hospitals are for SICK people. Not pregnant people).
The abdomen was entered via Pfannenstiel incision, which was extended to the fascia via sharp dissection (ooo... doesn't that make you feel nice??). Hemostasis was assured via cautery. The fascia was incised and this incision extended. The remainder of the fascia was taken down in the usual manner.
The midline was identified and entered without complication. The lower uterine
segment was identified and bladder flap was created inferiorly (Your
bladder is "in the way" so to speak, so they have to move it.
I'm sure it's impossible to get it back in the exact same position
it was in, so NEVER let a doctor tell you that a cesarean will ensure that you won't suffer from incontinence). The uterus was entered via stab incision (don't you just picture some mad scientist stabbing you in the gut when you hear that? I know I do...), which was extended sharply. The membranes ruptured and clear fluid was noted. The head of the infant was delivered;
the nares and mouth were suctioned well, and the remainder of the
infant was delivered without complication. The infant was carried
over to the neonatologist. The placenta was manually extracted,
the uterus was delivered into the abdominal incision, and the
endometrial cavity was cleansed. (This last sentence means
that they actually TOOK MY UTERUS OUT OF MY BODY
and plopped it up on my abdomen. That's the common thing to
do. They like to dig around inside your body and see what's
going on.)
The uterine incision was then closed in two layers, first being a running
interlocking layer of #1 chromic, second being a running, imbricating
layer of the same. Hemostasis was assured via cautery as well as
suture of 2-0 chromic. When hemostasis was assured, the uterus
was returned to the abdominal cavity. The gutters were cleansed
of clot and debris. Hemostasis was assured and the bladder flap
was reapproximated using 2-0 chromic in a running fashion.
Hemostasis was assured and the gutters again were cleansed
of clot and debris. Copious irrigation was done. Hemostasis
was assured and the peritoneum was closed using #0 chromic
in a running fashion. The subfascial layer was made hemostatic
and the fascia was reapproximated using 0 Vicryl in a running
fashion. Hemostasis was assured of the subcutaneous layer
which was reapproximated using 3-0 plain in an interrupted
fashion. Hemostasis was further assured and the skin was
reapproximated using 3-0 Vicryl in a running, subcuticular
fashion. Estimated blood loss was 600 cc. Complications
were none.
**Note: They don't consider depression, a huge gash on
your abdomen, breastfeeding failure, not being able to
walk on your own or without pain, nightmares, etc to be
"complications".
Surgical removal of appendix: appendectomy
Surgical removal of breasts: mastectomy
Surgical removal of uterus: hysterectomy
Surgical removal of baby: babyectomy
Yes, a cesarean is surgery!
Following is the actual surgical report from my cesarean. That's right, with a
cesarean "birth"... there are no "warm fuzzy" moments. It's all about "stab incisions" and organs being extracted from your body. I'm putting this here because had I known exactly what was involved in a standard surgical birth, I would have asked more questions
and made certain preferences clear. Emphasis added.
The patient (you're not a woman, a mother, or even a human being, you are simply a "patient") was taken to the operating room where spinal anesthesia (you know, that huge needle they stick in your spine after you sign a form saying that if you become paralyzed or die that you and your family won't sue) was introduced without complication. The patient was then prepped and draped in the usual sterile manner(because there are TONS of nasty germs in a hospital and they're getting ready to cut you open and you wouldn't want an infection. That's why hospitals are for SICK people. Not pregnant people).
The abdomen was entered via Pfannenstiel incision, which was extended to the fascia via sharp dissection (ooo... doesn't that make you feel nice??). Hemostasis was assured via cautery. The fascia was incised and this incision extended. The remainder of the fascia was taken down in the usual manner.
The midline was identified and entered without complication. The lower uterine
segment was identified and bladder flap was created inferiorly (Your
bladder is "in the way" so to speak, so they have to move it.
I'm sure it's impossible to get it back in the exact same position
it was in, so NEVER let a doctor tell you that a cesarean will ensure that you won't suffer from incontinence). The uterus was entered via stab incision (don't you just picture some mad scientist stabbing you in the gut when you hear that? I know I do...), which was extended sharply. The membranes ruptured and clear fluid was noted. The head of the infant was delivered;
the nares and mouth were suctioned well, and the remainder of the
infant was delivered without complication. The infant was carried
over to the neonatologist. The placenta was manually extracted,
the uterus was delivered into the abdominal incision, and the
endometrial cavity was cleansed. (This last sentence means
that they actually TOOK MY UTERUS OUT OF MY BODY
and plopped it up on my abdomen. That's the common thing to
do. They like to dig around inside your body and see what's
going on.)
The uterine incision was then closed in two layers, first being a running
interlocking layer of #1 chromic, second being a running, imbricating
layer of the same. Hemostasis was assured via cautery as well as
suture of 2-0 chromic. When hemostasis was assured, the uterus
was returned to the abdominal cavity. The gutters were cleansed
of clot and debris. Hemostasis was assured and the bladder flap
was reapproximated using 2-0 chromic in a running fashion.
Hemostasis was assured and the gutters again were cleansed
of clot and debris. Copious irrigation was done. Hemostasis
was assured and the peritoneum was closed using #0 chromic
in a running fashion. The subfascial layer was made hemostatic
and the fascia was reapproximated using 0 Vicryl in a running
fashion. Hemostasis was assured of the subcutaneous layer
which was reapproximated using 3-0 plain in an interrupted
fashion. Hemostasis was further assured and the skin was
reapproximated using 3-0 Vicryl in a running, subcuticular
fashion. Estimated blood loss was 600 cc. Complications
were none.
**Note: They don't consider depression, a huge gash on
your abdomen, breastfeeding failure, not being able to
walk on your own or without pain, nightmares, etc to be
"complications".
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Obstetrician Proposition
Hey Doc. I have a proposition for you. You say that birth is dangerous and needs you to save the mothers and babies. You say birth is a medical event which requires a hospital. Many of you believe that birth "from below" (vaginal) is old-fashioned and that birth "from above" (abdominal) is superior.
Why did you decide to become a doctor? Why a doctor who "delivers" babies? I know that none of you would admit it's for the money. I'm sure your answer is something like "I want to help women and babies". That is admirable. But what if (humor me here), just what if it could be proven to you... and to the world, really... that you aren't helping mothers OR babies? What if your famous Hippocratic oath is making you hypocrites? You vow that you will "do no harm". Does that really mean you will "do no harm" to your bank account? Your practice? Your staff? Or are you honestly, truly, unabashedly committed to doing no harm to mothers and babies?
Now, my proposition:
The cesarean rate in the United States is horrific. According to the WHOs standards, at least half (if not more) of the sections in this country are unnecessary. Also, our infant mortality rate is shameful. Of all developed countries the United States has the second highest infant mortality rate, and more and more mothers are dying in childbirth as well.
In some countries, such as Sweden, the standard of maternity care is a midwife. Every woman sees a midwife for maternity care unless and until her pregnancy or labor becomes a threat, danger, or emergency to the life of the mother or baby. *GASP*, you say? How can they do something so DANGEROUS you say? Well, if a section rate of 15.4% (Peristat) and an infant mortality rate of 3 per 1,000 live births (Globalis) is dangerous... then let danger be my middle name!
If you truly have the best interests of mothers and babies in mind, then give up your fear-mongering, money-hungry death grip on maternity care in the United States. Afterall, there will still be a need for you. It's just that you will only see the mothers who truly NEED to see you. Aren't those the mothers you really want to help, anyway? Why not try it? Do your little studies. Give it, say, ten years. Five, even.
If the IMR and section rates remain the same, or get worse, I will gladly stand corrected, and you can again take your place on the Obstetric Throne.
Friday, January 4, 2008
SIR, permission to use my vagina, SIR!
Just a thought. . .
"When we give government the power to make medical decisions for us, we, in essence, accept that the state owns our bodies." ~U.S. presidential candidate Ron Paul
Giving the government "the power to make medical decisions for us" means letting the government make
ANY laws about what we can/can't do with our own bodies. It's a frightening trend today. Women being told they "can't" have a vaginal birth for various reasons (pelvis too small, previous section, baby too big, the moon is full, etc...). To quote a now famous line on another group I belong to, "you don't need permission to use your vagina." Did you know there's a certain amount of risk in sex, even? Disease, infection, slight tearing, mild discomfort, even death if an air bubble is pushed into your bloodstream. Since sex is "risky", shouldn't you ask your doctor's permission before you have sex? No? Why? BECAUSE YOU DON'T NEED PERMISSION TO USE YOUR OWN VAGINA... that's why.
So then some would counter "well pregnancy and birth aren't all about the mother. there is another human life that must be considered in the equation". Yes, yes... that's right. The baby. Well... do you ask your doctor's permission before having an abortion? Oh, that's right... it's the DOCTOR who does the abortion. And what about those babies that are aborted because the pregnancy endangers the mother's life? What happened to the "all important" statement that the baby's life must be considered, too?
Messy, messy, messy.
My point is YOU own YOUR OWN body. Nobody has the right to make any decisions regarding your body except you. Nobody has the right to DO anything to your body without your INFORMED consent. And it is the audacity of all audacities when lawmakers make laws "governing" your body.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
The Charade
Sarah's birth video and poem
*interesting note: I let one of my brothers read this poem several months ago and he asked me, "does an oyster die when it's shucked?" Yes, it does.
*interesting note: I let one of my brothers read this poem several months ago and he asked me, "does an oyster die when it's shucked?" Yes, it does.
Shucked
To think of myself as an animal
led to the slaughter
not really choosing
They stripped me
they shaved me
they shot me
full of fear
so I'd be losing
All the feeling
but the feeling never goes
I heard 'oh you won't feel anything'
when I couldn't move my toes
First the
needle
then the
knife
and they say that it's all right
they say I'll feel some tugging
but I don't, I just feel nothing
I was screened from my body
it's bloody
the baby, where's my baby
there's the baby
could be anybody's baby
They take it away
and I'm left on the table
I want to be happy
but right now I'm not able
To see past the blood and the light
and the screen
strapped to a table
the end of the dream
Gutted and cold
in pain and alone
unable to speak, or to cry or
to moan
But the
hate
and the
anger
and the
pain
will subside
after I've grieved
after I've cried
I won't have the nightmares
or wake with such fright
I'll think back and smile
on that terrifying night
This new wrinkly baby
so tiny and pink
at that moment all I could
think
Of was my pain and
my fear
but what about you?
so cold and so scared
so little, so new
I hold you and my scar
and I know what to do
I'll weep and I'll mourn
then I'll tuck it away
doesn't mean it's not there
but I'll keep it at bay
So now when I think about how
my baby came into this world
I choose to think of myself as an oyster
and my beautiful baby
the pearl.
* * * * * *
I was going to share my son's birth poem and video but I'll save that for another day because right now I want to talk about the last two stanzas of this poem. Why did I feel the need to "make nice" at the end? Is it that little voice inside of me, the one that after hearing so many people chide me for hating my section-surgery, finally starts to agree and say tie the laces neatly at the end. be a good girl and play nice, now. This poem should end with the line, "Unable to speak or to cry or to moan". What upsets me most is that this poem was written six months after the surgery and it wasn't written to share with anyone. If I had written it with the intent of sharing it then I could understand why I felt the need to basically negate all my strong, painful feelings by including that crap about the pain subsiding and tucking my scar away.
Here's my point: This poem was a personal poem, written for myself. After just six months of hearing "you should be grateful" I had already begun to internalize that and guilt my true feelings away. How many women are out there, two, three, ten years out from their section-surgeries, who initially were very much not okay with it, but then after hearing that they should be grateful for a healthy baby and that just being alive was all that mattered and that it doesn't really matter how a baby comes out. . . and now they live among us disguised as "I loved my section" women? How many of these women are out there? It's a sad, bizarre charade.
Mothers, don't hide behind your "My section wasn't that bad" mask. Because those who believe you are following you down the hall to the operating room, and those of us who don't believe you hurt for you.
If you would like more information about cesarean awareness and prevention please visit www.ican-online.org
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
The Wound That Can't Be Stitched
An OB cut my abdomen and now every year around this time I feel the need to spill my guts. This post is probably going to get (verbally) violent. In real life I'm a very nice young mother who loves her husband and her children dearly. Please know that today, however, I am speaking from my scar.
If you've noticed my counter box to the right then you know that my daughter's third birthday and the third anniversary of my section-surgery is just ten days away. Do you know that I haven't even cried about my section yet? Not once. I teared up a little while telling my "birth" history to my midwife, but that's about it. I WANT TO CRY! Desperately.
As my doula was driving me to the hospital to get cut she told me that everything was going to be fine. I told her I wasn't scared about the baby dying, I was scared that I was going to die. I didn't cry then. I didn't cry as I waddled under the blood-red EMERGENCY ROOM sign, or as I was handed a Property of Baptist Hospital gown and sent to the bathroom to change. When nobody could adequately explain to me exactly why it was that I was going to be cut, and as everyone stood around the hospital bed staring at the beeping machine I was attached to, and as my husband just STOOD there as I was wheeled past him down that ammonia-mopped floor. I didn't cry. When I was in that room with the metal table, needles, machines, masks and knives I didn't even cry. A needle in my arm, didn't cry. A needle in my spine, didn't cry. A pinch to see if I was numb, didn't cry. My arms tied down, a drape over my chest, not being able to feel myself breathe, I didn't cry.
The surgeon didn't even talk to me. I could have been a dead cow on that butcher block for all she cared. Maybe it's because I didn't cry. Maybe if I'd have cried she would have realized I was actually a real, live person with feelings and she was about to cut into me and leave a wound that she would be forever blind to and that would never heal. Maybe...
Then afterwards the morphine made me outwardly giddy and so no one knew that inside I was numb and horrified and dead. You're not allowed to have morphine forever so the next day I was weaned from the poison and given little white pills that were supposed to help. You have a new baby and white pills and sterile sheets so everything is wonderful and you should be so grateful. I didn't cry then because it physically hurt to cry. I was afraid that if I cried my stitches would burst open and I'd bleed all over the pretty white sheets, and everyone would know that I hadn't been a good little girl.
So I was a good little girl, took the pills, didn't complain and healed "nicely". I have a cute little scar to prove it. In the following weeks as I battled to nurse my baby and my scar I was too weak, weary and depressed to cry. The fear of my incision ripping open haunted me for well over a year.
Now here I am. It's January 2, 2008 and nearly three years after my section-surgery. I haven't "gotten over it", nor will I ever. I think that's fine and I don't believe it's unhealthy. I have since had a few birthdays (taking me to my mid-twenties and then a smidge beyond) and a vbac. While I didn't choose to have my son to help me heal from my section-surgery, I did wholeheartedly believe that it would. It didn't. It was a pretty good birth (though it was a planned homebirth turned hospital transfer) and I felt absolutely wonderful afterwards. With my section, I didn't know what birth was supposed to be and how fun it could be. All I knew was that I was robbed of something and that both my baby and I suffered because of it. After my vbac I saw what birth was supposed to be like. It made me mad! So, my daughter and I were robbed of THIS?! I was angry, outraged, shocked, sad. . . but I still couldn't cry.
I know those tears are inside of me. I feel them every day. They burn and they ache. I'm afraid that if I begin crying, I won't be able to stop. Because my pain is never going to go completely away, so why should my tears?
If you've noticed my counter box to the right then you know that my daughter's third birthday and the third anniversary of my section-surgery is just ten days away. Do you know that I haven't even cried about my section yet? Not once. I teared up a little while telling my "birth" history to my midwife, but that's about it. I WANT TO CRY! Desperately.
As my doula was driving me to the hospital to get cut she told me that everything was going to be fine. I told her I wasn't scared about the baby dying, I was scared that I was going to die. I didn't cry then. I didn't cry as I waddled under the blood-red EMERGENCY ROOM sign, or as I was handed a Property of Baptist Hospital gown and sent to the bathroom to change. When nobody could adequately explain to me exactly why it was that I was going to be cut, and as everyone stood around the hospital bed staring at the beeping machine I was attached to, and as my husband just STOOD there as I was wheeled past him down that ammonia-mopped floor. I didn't cry. When I was in that room with the metal table, needles, machines, masks and knives I didn't even cry. A needle in my arm, didn't cry. A needle in my spine, didn't cry. A pinch to see if I was numb, didn't cry. My arms tied down, a drape over my chest, not being able to feel myself breathe, I didn't cry.
The surgeon didn't even talk to me. I could have been a dead cow on that butcher block for all she cared. Maybe it's because I didn't cry. Maybe if I'd have cried she would have realized I was actually a real, live person with feelings and she was about to cut into me and leave a wound that she would be forever blind to and that would never heal. Maybe...
Then afterwards the morphine made me outwardly giddy and so no one knew that inside I was numb and horrified and dead. You're not allowed to have morphine forever so the next day I was weaned from the poison and given little white pills that were supposed to help. You have a new baby and white pills and sterile sheets so everything is wonderful and you should be so grateful. I didn't cry then because it physically hurt to cry. I was afraid that if I cried my stitches would burst open and I'd bleed all over the pretty white sheets, and everyone would know that I hadn't been a good little girl.
So I was a good little girl, took the pills, didn't complain and healed "nicely". I have a cute little scar to prove it. In the following weeks as I battled to nurse my baby and my scar I was too weak, weary and depressed to cry. The fear of my incision ripping open haunted me for well over a year.
Now here I am. It's January 2, 2008 and nearly three years after my section-surgery. I haven't "gotten over it", nor will I ever. I think that's fine and I don't believe it's unhealthy. I have since had a few birthdays (taking me to my mid-twenties and then a smidge beyond) and a vbac. While I didn't choose to have my son to help me heal from my section-surgery, I did wholeheartedly believe that it would. It didn't. It was a pretty good birth (though it was a planned homebirth turned hospital transfer) and I felt absolutely wonderful afterwards. With my section, I didn't know what birth was supposed to be and how fun it could be. All I knew was that I was robbed of something and that both my baby and I suffered because of it. After my vbac I saw what birth was supposed to be like. It made me mad! So, my daughter and I were robbed of THIS?! I was angry, outraged, shocked, sad. . . but I still couldn't cry.
I know those tears are inside of me. I feel them every day. They burn and they ache. I'm afraid that if I begin crying, I won't be able to stop. Because my pain is never going to go completely away, so why should my tears?
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
Monday, December 31, 2007
Top 5 Most Underreported Birth Stories of 2007
Following the lead of Time.com’s “Top 10 Most Underreported Stories of 2007” I thought we could take a look at our country’s top 5 most underreported birth stories of 2007. So, here it is:
Top 5 Most Underreported Birth Stories of 2007
A year-end review brought to you by www.nowombpods.blogspot.com
5. An
(http://www.wftv.com/news/6253589/detail.html)
The birth for this mother was smooth. It’s what happened afterwards that left her unable to hold or care for her newborn. Claudia Mejia went into a hospital to give birth but when she left the hospital, her arms and legs stayed behind. She is now a quadruple amputee and the hospital refuses to tell her why. She was told she had streptococcus and toxic shock syndrome but the hospital will not tell her how she contracted them. It is unlikely Ms. Mejia would have contracted the illnesses had her baby been born at home.
4. A
(http://www.sptimes.com/2007/05/19/news_pf/Tampabay/Why_she_died_a_puzzle.shtml)
Caroline Wiren was a young, healthy mother who was excited by the upcoming birth of her child. She touched his head, told her mother to tell the baby that she loved him, and then she was gone. Mrs. Wiren had her labor induced just seven days past her baby’s due date, even though it is common for a woman’s first child to be born as much as two weeks after the given due date.
According to http://www.medpagetoday.com/OBGYN/Pregnancy/dh/4334, one possible complication of induction of labor is amniotic-fluid embolism, which can lead to death.
3. 3. Two
http://www.nownj.org/njnews/2007/0518%20Moms%20decry%20high%20N.J.%20C-section%20rate.htm
Two young, healthy mothers entered a hospital in
2. The most updated birth data from the CDC shows that the cesarean rate in the
(http://www.cdc.gov/nchs/data/nvsr/nvsr56/nvsr56_07.pdf)
This latest number (from 2006) represents a 10.4% increase from ten years ago, and a 3% increase from the previous year. The report also indicates that the percentage of low birthweight babies and preterm babies is on the rise. Consumer Reports names the cesarean as one of the 10 most overused tests and treatments (http://www.consumerreports.org/cro/health-fitness/health-care/medical-ripoffs-11-07/10-overused-tests-and-treatments/medical-ripoffs-ten-over_1.htm).
1.
According to Save the Children researchers, infants in the
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Not Just Another Way to Give Birth
WARNING! There are some very graphic pictures in this slide show. If it bothers you, then please feel free to turn away. Know, though, that those of us pictured here (myself included) can never turn away from our pain and our grief. Our fear. Our loss.
Your Pelvis Is Too Small
Have you ever been told by a doctor that your pelvis is too small to give birth vaginally? Did you labor with your baby, only to be told you have CPD and would need a cesarean in order to get your baby out?
CPD stands for cephelopelvic disproportion. In true cases, this means that the pelvis is too small for a baby to pass through. True CPD can only be diagnosed after a trial of labor because women's bodies are amazing, and the pelvis stretches and opens to allow passage of the baby through. Also, babies' bodies are amazing, and their heads mold to make this passage easier.
As you will see in the video below, CPD may also stand for "care provider doesn'tknowwhathe'stalkingabout". Each woman you will meet in this video was told she had CPD and would never be able to give birth vaginally. Each of them went on to give birth vaginally, most times to a baby much larger than the one their doctors said would never fit through their pelvises.
CPD stands for cephelopelvic disproportion. In true cases, this means that the pelvis is too small for a baby to pass through. True CPD can only be diagnosed after a trial of labor because women's bodies are amazing, and the pelvis stretches and opens to allow passage of the baby through. Also, babies' bodies are amazing, and their heads mold to make this passage easier.
As you will see in the video below, CPD may also stand for "care provider doesn'tknowwhathe'stalkingabout". Each woman you will meet in this video was told she had CPD and would never be able to give birth vaginally. Each of them went on to give birth vaginally, most times to a baby much larger than the one their doctors said would never fit through their pelvises.
It Happens
It happens every day. Somewhere. To someone. To a mama. To a baby. To women. To a family. To a nation. We can't ignore it and we have to change it.
Woman burned during c-section
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aIeUWmtFwds
A Bakersfield woman goes to a local hospital to give birth, but catches on fire during delivery. The woman says it happened at San Joaquin Community Hospital last year. To make matters worse she says neither the hospital nor the doctor will take responsibility for what happened.
Two New Jersey women die after their c-sections
http://www.philly.com/inquirer/health_science/daily/20070510_Teachers_joined_in_birth__death.html
In March, the staff, students and parents of Avon Elementary School threw a surprise baby shower for teachers Valerie Scythes and Melissa Farah.
Mere weeks later, both young women were dead.
They died, 15 days apart, after delivering by cesarean section at Underwood Memorial Hospital in Woodbury, Gloucester County. They left behind healthy infants - Isabella Rose Scythes and Grace Melissa Farah.
**my note: The World Health Organization (WHO) recommends a cesarean rate of 10-15%. New Jersey’s cesarean rate is 37%.**
American babies are three times more likely to die in their first month as children born in Japan, and newborn mortality is 2.5 times higher in the United States than in Finland, Iceland or Norway, Save the Children researchers found.
Only Latvia, with six deaths per 1,000 live births, has a higher death rate for newborns than the United States, which is tied near the bottom of industrialized nations with Hungary, Malta, Poland and Slovakia with five deaths per 1,000 births.
"The United States has more neonatologists and neonatal intensive care beds per person than Australia, Canada and the United Kingdom, but its newborn mortality rate is higher than any of those countries," said the annual State of the World's Mothers report.
http://www.cnn.com/2006/HEALTH/parenting/05/08/mothers.index/index.html
Infant mortality rate, US: 6.78 (CDC)
Infant mortality rate, Cuba 5.8 (medicc.org)
C-section complications
http://pregnancy.emedtv.com/pregnancy/c-section-complications.html
Bleeding After C-Section
C-Section Scar
Postpartum Depression After C-Section
Infection After Cesarean Section
Wound Breakdown After Cesarean Section
Nerve Injury After Cesarean Section
Medication Risk and Cesarean Section
Uterine Rupture After Cesarean Section
Bladder Injury Following a Cesarean Section
Organ Injury With Cesarean Section
Adhesions and C-Sections
Blood Clots Following a C-Section
Delayed Bowel Function Following a C-Section
Bowel Injury After C-Section
Fetal Injury During a C-Section
Urinary Tract Infection and C-Section
Hear the Hurt
http://www.freewebs.com/birthcut/poetry.htm
Feel the Failure
http://www.freewebs.com/birthcut/cesareanstories.htm
See the Scar (graphic)
http://pregnancy.about.com/od/cesareansection/ig/Cesarean-Scar-Gallery/index.htm
*Then* tell me "it doesn't matter".
Woman burned during c-section
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aIeUWmtFwds
A Bakersfield woman goes to a local hospital to give birth, but catches on fire during delivery. The woman says it happened at San Joaquin Community Hospital last year. To make matters worse she says neither the hospital nor the doctor will take responsibility for what happened.
Two New Jersey women die after their c-sections
http://www.philly.com/inquirer/health_science/daily/20070510_Teachers_joined_in_birth__death.html
In March, the staff, students and parents of Avon Elementary School threw a surprise baby shower for teachers Valerie Scythes and Melissa Farah.
Mere weeks later, both young women were dead.
They died, 15 days apart, after delivering by cesarean section at Underwood Memorial Hospital in Woodbury, Gloucester County. They left behind healthy infants - Isabella Rose Scythes and Grace Melissa Farah.
**my note: The World Health Organization (WHO) recommends a cesarean rate of 10-15%. New Jersey’s cesarean rate is 37%.**
American babies are three times more likely to die in their first month as children born in Japan, and newborn mortality is 2.5 times higher in the United States than in Finland, Iceland or Norway, Save the Children researchers found.
Only Latvia, with six deaths per 1,000 live births, has a higher death rate for newborns than the United States, which is tied near the bottom of industrialized nations with Hungary, Malta, Poland and Slovakia with five deaths per 1,000 births.
"The United States has more neonatologists and neonatal intensive care beds per person than Australia, Canada and the United Kingdom, but its newborn mortality rate is higher than any of those countries," said the annual State of the World's Mothers report.
http://www.cnn.com/2006/HEALTH/parenting/05/08/mothers.index/index.html
Infant mortality rate, US: 6.78 (CDC)
Infant mortality rate, Cuba 5.8 (medicc.org)
C-section complications
http://pregnancy.emedtv.com/pregnancy/c-section-complications.html
Bleeding After C-Section
C-Section Scar
Postpartum Depression After C-Section
Infection After Cesarean Section
Wound Breakdown After Cesarean Section
Nerve Injury After Cesarean Section
Medication Risk and Cesarean Section
Uterine Rupture After Cesarean Section
Bladder Injury Following a Cesarean Section
Organ Injury With Cesarean Section
Adhesions and C-Sections
Blood Clots Following a C-Section
Delayed Bowel Function Following a C-Section
Bowel Injury After C-Section
Fetal Injury During a C-Section
Urinary Tract Infection and C-Section
Hear the Hurt
http://www.freewebs.com/birthcut/poetry.htm
Feel the Failure
http://www.freewebs.com/birthcut/cesareanstories.htm
See the Scar (graphic)
http://pregnancy.about.com/od/cesareansection/ig/Cesarean-Scar-Gallery/index.htm
*Then* tell me "it doesn't matter".
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