My beautiful nursie baby

Just a simple picture to share. My older daughter took the picture.

A Hard Question

I began questioning the so-called outrageousness of me having to travel to have my VBAC last night as I watched the Olympics. There was a male figure skater who was skating for Italy and the announcer said that he was actually French but the European Federation wouldn't allow him to skate for France. So, with lofty Olympic dreams in his head, this young man denounced his French citizenship and became at Italian citizen. You might say, "Wow! What an ambitious young man. Now that's a person who had a dream and wasn't afraid to sacrifice to follow it. Good for him. Bravo!" Indeed, the announcer's tone of voice seethed admiration for the young man's actions.

After the young man skated I recalled another skater in this year's Olympics, a woman, who gave up her Japanese citizenship to skate for Russia. She even changed the spelling of her last name. The reason given was that there was no couple's skating "legacy" in Japan.


With all this in mind, my hard question: Is it really so "outrageous" that I had to travel to another state to have a VBAC?

When I was going through the ordeal I thought it was ridiculous. Why should I have to inconvenience my family and myself just to give birth vaginally to my baby? Why should I have to travel so far away? Why wouldn't the doctors or midwives here just attend my baby's birth?

Yet, what would have happened to the young skater from France or the young skater from Japan had they had similar thoughts? Had they scoffed at the inconvenience their dreams produced, I wouldn't know who they are because they wouldn't be in the Olympics.

Every day people go through unimaginable circumstances and face such extreme obstacles to getting what their hearts desire. Think about people who travel to other states or countries for state-of-the-art medical treatments. Do they complain about the inconvenience?

So I'll repeat my hard question:

Is it really so "outrageous" that I had to travel to another
state to have a VBAC?

A new carrier

Since Caleb was a baby I've carried my babies in a ring sling. I loved my ring sling. It was easy to put on, easy to put baby in and easy to take baby out. After a recent trip to the chiropractor, my husband decided that it was wreaking havoc on my back. I'd heard many moms sing the praises of the Ergo baby carrier so I ordered one and... it came today! I hated it for about an hour but it's growing on me. I still stand my my assertion that it wasn't designed for shorter people though.

Anna Lily 7.5 months

I've wanted to write about this for several weeks now. Actually, about 10 weeks. One of my sisters is pregnant. . . again. She's my only sister (out of four) who has given birth without a cesarean. She's the sister who gave birth at 15 years old, at 38 weeks, to a still born baby boy. That was four years ago and I wrote about it here.

Now sister L is 19 years old. She's so excited to be pregnant. She found out last week that she's having another son (his name is Damien). But. . .but. Just before the became pregnant she was diagnosed with Grave's Disease. From what I've read, this doesn't have to interfere with the pregnancy in any way. Again, but. Her doctor also found that she has the MTHFR gene mutation. From pregnancy-info.net:

Because of a mother with MTHFR’s inability to efficiently metabolize folic acid and
vitamin B9, the disorder has been linked to a variety of pregnancy complications
such as chromosomal abnormalities, such as Down syndrome, and congenital
malformations.

Elevated levels of homocysteine have been associated with
placental disease, preeclampsia and recurrent pregnancy loss. 21%
of women with high levels of homocysteine experience recurrent pregnancy
loss.

She has already been "counseled" about her "options". No doubt, being 19 and facing the chance of a baby with Down's Syndrome, spina bifida or still born she was "counseled" to abort my sweet nephew. What kind of doctor tells a mother who has lost a child that she should kill her next child? No, this new little guy is one of the most fortunate babies on this earth. His mama is going to love him jealously and protect him fiercely.

We're all so worried for sister L though. She faces the very real chance of losing Damien. She lost Izaiah at 38 weeks, so it's a very long road ahead, littered with egg shells. None of us will breathe until Damien is safe in L's arms.

The part of L's story I struggle most with is her decision to schedule a c-section at 37 weeks. In my head I understand why she's made this choice. In her mind, if she'd had a c-section at 37 weeks with Izaiah, he would be a 4 year old little boy playing with worms and catching frogs, instead of a painful 4 year old memory. There are many things I want to tell her that I dare not. I want to tell her that he might not be ready to be born at 37 weeks and may suffer complications. Babies born too soon frequently die. He could have problems that plague him the rest of his life. What about L? She could lose her uterus (at 19!). She could suffer crippling adhesions. She could contract meningitis or MRSA. She could suffer from secondary infertility. She could die.

I worry so much for her. Helping her grieve the loss of another son would tear me apart. Hearing her speak flippantly about a section that was "great" would make me wince. Allowing her to share her tears over a section that was "awful, painful, why-didn't-you-tell-me-how-bad-it-was-going-to-be" would crush me.

There's just no right answer. Nothing right to say to her. My job until the end of July will be to listen to her, share her joy and pray with every ounce of faith that is in me.

Today is the Section Anniversary

When I talk about my cesarean do you hear that I'm judging you? What you should hear is that five years ago I had a surgical birth that I didn't want, wasn't prepared for, and still mourn. What I'm saying is that whether or not mine was necessary it left a scar that healed in the shape of a frown and a scar that is still open. If you really listened to me, you'd know that I don't believe all c-sections are unnecessary and evil but that there are a heck of a lot of them being performed that aren't necessary and those are evil. Birth in this country has become a high-stakes football game with women and babies acting as that old "pig skin". The fact is: cesareans aren't safe. Your skin and uterus are cut and they weren't meant to be. If I stretch a rubber band too tightly it will break because it wasn't made to stretch that far.

Five years ago I bled nails and hot tears
Now I bleed bitter sweetness and love
But it still hurts, and I still bleed

My first child, my sweet little girl, will forever share her spot in my mind with an awful memory. Maybe that's what hurts the most. It's not fair to her and it's not fair to me. So, each January 12 I smile and congratulate, give sweet hugs and pretty presents, and marvel as this little 3lb baby continues to grow and learn. But in the evening I close my door and I hurt. I hurt.

I know many of you will say that it shouldn't be so bad this year because I finally "got the birth I always wanted." I wanted that kind of birth for my babies! Not for me. Sarah didn't get that birth. I was able to give it to her two younger siblings, but not her. Not her. That's never going to change.

January 12, 2005
The day of my daughter's exit from my open womb.
My baby's birth.

Weeping

There is a chance of snow here (in mid/south Georgia no less!) on Sarah's 5th birthday. The 5th anniversary of my section. Words almost fail me, as I feel I cannot describe what a beautiful gift that would be.

Snow, white, pure, fresh, forgiven snow.

Snow, frozen water, like tears. Beautiful frozen January tears. As if the Lord himself was weeping with me and quenching this still-burning ache in my heart.

Snow, clean and light, on the very day my heart feels the dirtiest and most burdened.

Snow... snow!

My baby boy is 3!

I fought so hard for Caleb. I planned the kind of birth I felt would be best for him, and because of my choices I endured many raised eyebrows and questions that doubled as insults. I don’t even pretend to know what was said when I wasn’t around. I think what many people didn’t know was the extent to which my whole heart was in Caleb’s birth plans. Sarah’s birth destroyed me—ruthlessly, unmercifully annihilated anything that I had ever been, and Sarah suffered for that. Still suffers for that, though it is a work in progress. I was not going to just lie down and let that happen to Caleb. I just wasn’t.

What people probably thought was that I was sectioned by a doctor in a hospital so I just wasn’t going to see a doctor or go into a hospital for Caleb’s birth. That wasn’t true. As John can attest, I read books, researched on the internet, spoke with people both online and in person, until the only words that came from my mouth were pregnancy and birth related. My plans for Caleb’s safe birth were all-consuming. I even had a consultation with a perinatologist at the hospital who told me, outright, that my best chances at a VBAC were at home. We hired a wonderful midwife with decades of experience and over a thousand births under her belt.

Contrary to popular belief, I did not want what some homebirth opponents call a “spa birth”. I wasn’t planning to give birth in a dim, candle-lit room with soft music in the background. I had no illusions of an easy, pain-free birth. I had every thought and expectation that it would be the most painful, scary, intense thing I had ever done. And that it would be safe.

I knew from very personal, very recent experience that the thing we call “birth” doesn’t always go as planned and can sometimes have a tragic end. Just 8 weeks before Caleb was conceived one of my sisters lost her son at 38 weeks. She wasn’t even in labor. He just…died. I was the one with her when the doctor told her. Mine were the first hands she desperately squeezed. My arms were the first to support her. My eyes were the first to see her tears. I saw her heart split right open and I’ll never, ever forget the enormity of the black grief that flowed out. But, all the hospital-birth-planning in the world wouldn’t have saved my little nephew. Babies die all the time in hospitals. If it was the Lord’s will for my baby boy to die in birth, it would happen whether or not we were in a hospital. In my opinion, a peaceful death is as important as a peaceful birth.

I really can see Jesus in Caleb. I look at him and marvel, “this is what Jesus must have been like at age 1, at age 2, at age 3”. What a blessing He must have been to His mother! If Sarah challenges and blesses me intellectually, Caleb challenges and blesses me emotionally. I look at him and just melt. He is so kind and tender-hearted! There’s a story in the Bible about two women who bring a baby to the king, both claiming it’s her baby. The king tells the women that since he can’t tell whose baby it is, he’ll have it cut in half and each woman may have half of the baby. The mother who spoke up and said, “no, don’t cut him in half. Give him to her” was the woman the king decided must be the baby’s mother. I did something similar with Sarah and Caleb when they were fighting over who would get to play with “baby Anna”. Before the words were even out of my mouth Sarah said, “I’ll take the top half”, but Caleb protested with a concerned look on his face, “No! It’s hurt her!”

He’s like the walking New Testament! He is patient and kind. He isn’t jealous, doesn’t brag and is not arrogant. He does not act unbecomingly, does not seek his own, isn’t easily provoked, doesn’t take into account a wrong suffered (and forgives nearly instantly!). He does not rejoice in unrighteousness (and if on rare occasion he does something he shouldn’t, he “tells” on himself immediately). My sweet little Caleb bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things and (as Sarah Elizabeth is his sister) endures all things.

I can’t imagine my life without my little guy, and he and his birth have brought so much healing into my life. I am so grateful for that in this Thanksgiving season.

What his name means-
Caleb: Faithful, Bold
Joshua: Jehovah saves
Amen, and amen.

Caleb's birth story

Caleb's birth video

This post is lovingly, gratefully dedicated to Vicki Taylor, L.M., C.P.M., without whom I would still be that scared little girl sitting in a corner crying over her scar.