 |
| Each room of the house was a different animal habitat. Ocean |
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| Arctic |
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| Desert |
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| Woods |
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| Power disc cookies! |
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| Power disc cookies! |
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| She wanted to help with her tortuga cake. It came out great! |
Monday, February 3, 2020
Wild Kratts Birthday Pictures
Tuesday, June 11, 2019
Birth Story #3: Kindness, Peace & Provision
Baby #3 has arrived and, since it’s been helpful in the past for me to write out my stories, I want to do so again.
When we found out we were pregnant with #3, I had a pretty good idea of which provider I would choose. We’ll just call him Dr. A. Since I knew I needed to have a repeat cesarean this time around (by the recommendation of not just the doctor who delivered baby #2, but also my midwives), I figured it best to go with an OB. Dr. A is known in our area as being one who does gentle c-sections and he’s also supposed to be a very good surgeon.
After some headaches with the hospital just getting into their system, I finally was able to meet with Dr. A.
Around 20 weeks, we had an ultrasound. I really wanted to be surprised about the baby’s sex this time. Baby #1 was a surprise, but when she was born, no one said “it’s a girl!” I had to ask repeatedly and that was one of the many disappointing aspects of that traumatic birth experience. I was hoping to redeem that this time around. At the ultrasound, we got to see our sweet little one moving around and we were pleased to find that baby seemed healthy and strong.
After the ultrasound we shared some of the photos. To my disappointment, someone who looked at one of the ultrasound pictures commented that baby sure looked like a boy! I hadn’t even been paying attention to that part of the photo and was sad because that person did seem to be right… meaning the baby’s sex was probably no longer a surprise.
But, like God often does, He took that disappointing event and used it for good! That experience helped me realize that, up until that point in my pregnancy, I was kind of just coasting along, letting things happen without really actively deciding things. Had I been proactive in understanding why being surprised was important to me, I may have made a plan that would have prevented the problem altogether.
I came to realize that, moving forward, is need to be more proactive if I wanted things to go a certain way.
I started to wonder if there really was no chance I could try again for a VBAC. I figured probably not. But, at the same time, I wanted to understand why. The answer I’d been given until that point was basically simply “well, you had a uterine dehiscence last time.” I wondered if there was anyone else who might explain more about the dehiscence (my research showed that there’s not necessarily reason to avoid VBACs altogether after a uterine dehiscence). I wanted to know details! But neither Dr. A nor anyone else was providing me with the details I needed. In short, I started to wonder about getting a second opinion.
I contacted my doula from birth #2. She told me about a birth she’d recently attended. It was a TOLA2C. And the OB? A VBA2C-friendly Milwaukee doctor named Dr. W.
I also started to think about my birth plan and the things that I wanted in this birth. And I started addressing those things with Dr. A. One thing that was important to me was to wait until baby was ready to have the c-section, rather than just scheduling it for 39 weeks regardless. This was especially a concern because Dr. A calculated my due date as May 17, when it was in fact May 20. If we scheduled a cesarean for 39 weeks, it would have landed on what was actually 38.5 weeks. When I addressed this concern with Dr. A, he insisted that we leave my due date recorded as May 17. When I asked if we could wait until labor began to do the c-section, he looked at me like I had four heads, and, exasperated, finally said “ok, sure, fine, if that’s what you want I can do that.” The moment I got that condescending answer was the moment I knew I didn’t trust Dr. A to be the one there to help deliver this baby.
So, at 26 weeks, I showed up at Dr. W’s office (located an hour from home) with all my post-op records in hand. I knew I liked Dr. W from the moment I met him. He looked thoroughly through my records. He thoughtfully considered each aspect of what he read. Then he pulled out a diagram of a uterus and explained to me all the factors that influenced his recommendation. Despite being slow to jump to medical interventions, and even with a cesarean rate under 15%, he, for reasons beyond just the dehiscence, believed a c-section to be the best course of action. (He said if the dehiscence had been the only factor, he would have encouraged a VBAC. In my case, however, there were many other issues to consider.)
Meeting with Dr. W was a breath of fresh air. Even though he confirmed that, yes, I’d need a c-section, I was encouraged by his approach in many ways:
Soon enough, the day arrived! God was so kind - He allowed our little one to arrive on one of the days I was hoping for. May 15 and May 24-26 were the only dates that wouldn’t involve some sort of conflict. So I was grateful that God granted my request.
Many friends prayed for me. The following is a prayer I received via text that morning at the hospital:
I arrived at the hospital around 7:30am. Because I ate breakfast (I’m a firm believer in not giving birth on an empty stomach!), I had to wait in the triage room all day playing games on my phone against Eric - haha! I did spend some time journaling and I wrote a note to our baby too.
I texted quite a bit with a dear friend who is a doula - she was a long-distance support to me! I also was living on the edge: I drank water throughout the day despite being told not to eat or drink. I’m such a rebel!
Another friend sent this text with a verse that stuck with me while I waited:
In the late afternoon, after getting postponed twice, it was finally time to meet the baby!
Dr. W and the anesthesiologist met with me before the surgery to go over my birth plan again and ensure they were accommodating all my requests.
When I walked into the room they had my music playing. While they prepped me we talked about the music. One nurse, Janean, heard this Josh Garrels song I had on my playlist and it had been her wedding dance song. That was special for me because it’s kind of an obscure song to begin with, and also probably meant the nurse is a Christian. It’s interesting looking back; the music ended up being a more significant part of the story than I’d expected.
Not having labored first, I was alert and very present. I stayed just as alert even after my spinal block, and every step the doctors took in the surgery prep was explained thoroughly. They told me what to expect. I asked lots of questions: “what’s that slimy stuff you’re putting on me?”
Then Eric came in and sat by my side. He read Bible verses and talked with me. Gosh, I feel like I can do anything when that man is by my side.
While they were doing the surgery, they were asking more questions about the music. One nurse (the one taking the pictures) commented she liked that I included Pride & Prejudice soundtrack. Dr. W asked who was playing when Secret Garden came on.
At 5:02pm, I felt a deep tugging sensation, heard baby cries and Eric’s declaration: “It’s a boy!” They immediately placed Josiah on my chest while this perfectly fitting song played in the background.
While Josiah was on my chest I cried happy tears and just kept telling Eric how happy I was. This is how all (non-emergency) c-sections should be!
After about 10 minutes they took Josiah to weigh him and take care of some things and then Eric got to hold him - our precious boy.
Sewing me up took longer than I thought. I started to get bored/impatient and wanted to just get to my room with my baby! But they finished the job well and thoroughly (even repairing my diastasis recti), so I’m grateful for that.
God really answered our prayers for peace. Of course I’d love to have had a vaginal birth but in a way this was merciful because I was able to have exactly what I wanted/expected and there’s actually mercy too just in the fact that I already know what c-section recovery is like so afterwards I didn’t have to deal with unfamiliar territory.
In the end, though, the peace mainly took the form of simple contentment… almost a good sort of complacency. The peace we all prayed for didn’t come in the form of some sort of deeply-felt spiritual experience. It was more of a quiet, ordinary acknowledgement. When I think about Josiah’s birth, the method of delivery surprisingly matters very little to me. I’m so grateful that God gave me peace that passes all understanding. By giving me a birth team that accommodated my (not unreasonable) wishes, and by working on my heart response, God allowed this birth story to be one of true peace.
This was posted in my Bible reading challenge group this week and it perfectly describes the peace I'm talking about.
In the days that followed, I distinctly felt God’s arms holding me - in the form of people He placed around me.
When the pain was unbearable, God held me up through this prayer and a verse from friends:
When a visit from family was cut short because 20 minutes was all I could handle, God ensured that, through His people, I was met with grace.
When I needed rest, God provided Emily, our gentle and caring night nurse.
When my older kids needed care for five days straight, God’s faithful care took the form of four loving parents who willingly put aside their plans to watch our children (and prune the bushes, and weed the garden, and do the laundry, and clean the house).
When sweet Josiah needed to get more milk faster, God gave us Kathy, a sister in Christ (as well as lactation consultant) whose joy it is to help moms and babies.
When my girl graduated preschool when I was only 6 days postpartum, God’s love took the form of dear family coming alongside us to make the day so very special for her when I didn’t have the capacity for decorations and cupcakes.
When we were weary, spending our days running on fumes, God fed our physical bodies with food provided by our village: His Church. And He fed our souls with His Word: “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst.”
There’s an Andrew Peterson song that articulates this so beautifully. This is what the Church is. Let us not grow weary.
The Pregnancy
When we found out we were pregnant with #3, I had a pretty good idea of which provider I would choose. We’ll just call him Dr. A. Since I knew I needed to have a repeat cesarean this time around (by the recommendation of not just the doctor who delivered baby #2, but also my midwives), I figured it best to go with an OB. Dr. A is known in our area as being one who does gentle c-sections and he’s also supposed to be a very good surgeon.
After some headaches with the hospital just getting into their system, I finally was able to meet with Dr. A.
Around 20 weeks, we had an ultrasound. I really wanted to be surprised about the baby’s sex this time. Baby #1 was a surprise, but when she was born, no one said “it’s a girl!” I had to ask repeatedly and that was one of the many disappointing aspects of that traumatic birth experience. I was hoping to redeem that this time around. At the ultrasound, we got to see our sweet little one moving around and we were pleased to find that baby seemed healthy and strong.
After the ultrasound we shared some of the photos. To my disappointment, someone who looked at one of the ultrasound pictures commented that baby sure looked like a boy! I hadn’t even been paying attention to that part of the photo and was sad because that person did seem to be right… meaning the baby’s sex was probably no longer a surprise.
But, like God often does, He took that disappointing event and used it for good! That experience helped me realize that, up until that point in my pregnancy, I was kind of just coasting along, letting things happen without really actively deciding things. Had I been proactive in understanding why being surprised was important to me, I may have made a plan that would have prevented the problem altogether.
I came to realize that, moving forward, is need to be more proactive if I wanted things to go a certain way.
I started to wonder if there really was no chance I could try again for a VBAC. I figured probably not. But, at the same time, I wanted to understand why. The answer I’d been given until that point was basically simply “well, you had a uterine dehiscence last time.” I wondered if there was anyone else who might explain more about the dehiscence (my research showed that there’s not necessarily reason to avoid VBACs altogether after a uterine dehiscence). I wanted to know details! But neither Dr. A nor anyone else was providing me with the details I needed. In short, I started to wonder about getting a second opinion.
I contacted my doula from birth #2. She told me about a birth she’d recently attended. It was a TOLA2C. And the OB? A VBA2C-friendly Milwaukee doctor named Dr. W.
I also started to think about my birth plan and the things that I wanted in this birth. And I started addressing those things with Dr. A. One thing that was important to me was to wait until baby was ready to have the c-section, rather than just scheduling it for 39 weeks regardless. This was especially a concern because Dr. A calculated my due date as May 17, when it was in fact May 20. If we scheduled a cesarean for 39 weeks, it would have landed on what was actually 38.5 weeks. When I addressed this concern with Dr. A, he insisted that we leave my due date recorded as May 17. When I asked if we could wait until labor began to do the c-section, he looked at me like I had four heads, and, exasperated, finally said “ok, sure, fine, if that’s what you want I can do that.” The moment I got that condescending answer was the moment I knew I didn’t trust Dr. A to be the one there to help deliver this baby.
So, at 26 weeks, I showed up at Dr. W’s office (located an hour from home) with all my post-op records in hand. I knew I liked Dr. W from the moment I met him. He looked thoroughly through my records. He thoughtfully considered each aspect of what he read. Then he pulled out a diagram of a uterus and explained to me all the factors that influenced his recommendation. Despite being slow to jump to medical interventions, and even with a cesarean rate under 15%, he, for reasons beyond just the dehiscence, believed a c-section to be the best course of action. (He said if the dehiscence had been the only factor, he would have encouraged a VBAC. In my case, however, there were many other issues to consider.)
Meeting with Dr. W was a breath of fresh air. Even though he confirmed that, yes, I’d need a c-section, I was encouraged by his approach in many ways:
- He is the first doctor who has ever listened to the story of my first birth with compassion in his eyes.
- He is the first doctor who has ever acknowledged that “You’re right. They didn’t give you a fair chance at a vaginal birth and I’m so sorry that happened.”
- He is the first doctor who was willing to sit and talk as long as I needed to explain in-depth the answers to my questions and actual evidence-based recommendations for my particular situation.
- He wasn’t bothered in the slightest when I said I wanted to wait until early labor started to head to the hospital for my cesarean (rather than scheduling ahead).
- He attends all of his patients’ births - whether he’s “on call” or not.
As the weeks progressed, I continued to be sure of my choice to switch to Dr. W. Still, I had a hard time embracing the idea of a repeat cesarean. I sent the following email to some friends that articulates well where I was at:
Most of you know at least some of my birth story history. Anyway, I have a prayer request regarding this coming birth for baby #3. As most of you know, I will 99% likely be having another cesarean. This will be either whenever contractions become regular or May 25, whichever comes first.
I’m not doubting that this is the right plan at this point. I feel comfortable (rationally) with this being the best way to go given the situation, and it’s what has been recommended by multiple providers (both OBs and midwives) who I trust.
However, I’m still just not thrilled about the idea of being cut open again. I balk at the concept of my child’s birth being more in the “major medical procedure” category than the “natural occurrence” category. So my main prayer request in this regard is simply that God would work in the next however many days before baby arrives to bring me from my current place of resigned acceptance to a place of deeply-felt peace with doing things this way (essentially closing the door to ever experiencing a natural birth).
The Delivery
Soon enough, the day arrived! God was so kind - He allowed our little one to arrive on one of the days I was hoping for. May 15 and May 24-26 were the only dates that wouldn’t involve some sort of conflict. So I was grateful that God granted my request.
Many friends prayed for me. The following is a prayer I received via text that morning at the hospital:
Lord, give Christi peace today. Help her rest in the process of bringing this baby safely into the world. If possible, give her the desire of her heart, and if that is not safe, then help her heart desire what You’ve allowed.
Give the doctor and his team all the wisdom they need to keep both Christi and the baby healthy.
Help Christi and Eric be a light for You in the hospital, glorifying Your name while knowing how and when to speak up for what Christi and the baby need.
Thank you for the blessing of this baby. You have formed “him” lovingly for the last nine months, and we can’t wait to see Your beautiful handiwork.
In the name of Jesus who died so we could have life, Amen
I arrived at the hospital around 7:30am. Because I ate breakfast (I’m a firm believer in not giving birth on an empty stomach!), I had to wait in the triage room all day playing games on my phone against Eric - haha! I did spend some time journaling and I wrote a note to our baby too.
I texted quite a bit with a dear friend who is a doula - she was a long-distance support to me! I also was living on the edge: I drank water throughout the day despite being told not to eat or drink. I’m such a rebel!
Another friend sent this text with a verse that stuck with me while I waited:
Praying for your heart to have only peace and joy as you trust in your loving Creator who has provided this particular means of bringing your babies safely into your arms! ❤️
Psalm 34:8
Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good! Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him!
In the late afternoon, after getting postponed twice, it was finally time to meet the baby!
Dr. W and the anesthesiologist met with me before the surgery to go over my birth plan again and ensure they were accommodating all my requests.
When I walked into the room they had my music playing. While they prepped me we talked about the music. One nurse, Janean, heard this Josh Garrels song I had on my playlist and it had been her wedding dance song. That was special for me because it’s kind of an obscure song to begin with, and also probably meant the nurse is a Christian. It’s interesting looking back; the music ended up being a more significant part of the story than I’d expected.
Not having labored first, I was alert and very present. I stayed just as alert even after my spinal block, and every step the doctors took in the surgery prep was explained thoroughly. They told me what to expect. I asked lots of questions: “what’s that slimy stuff you’re putting on me?”
Then Eric came in and sat by my side. He read Bible verses and talked with me. Gosh, I feel like I can do anything when that man is by my side.
While they were doing the surgery, they were asking more questions about the music. One nurse (the one taking the pictures) commented she liked that I included Pride & Prejudice soundtrack. Dr. W asked who was playing when Secret Garden came on.
At 5:02pm, I felt a deep tugging sensation, heard baby cries and Eric’s declaration: “It’s a boy!” They immediately placed Josiah on my chest while this perfectly fitting song played in the background.
While Josiah was on my chest I cried happy tears and just kept telling Eric how happy I was. This is how all (non-emergency) c-sections should be!
After about 10 minutes they took Josiah to weigh him and take care of some things and then Eric got to hold him - our precious boy.
Sewing me up took longer than I thought. I started to get bored/impatient and wanted to just get to my room with my baby! But they finished the job well and thoroughly (even repairing my diastasis recti), so I’m grateful for that.
God really answered our prayers for peace. Of course I’d love to have had a vaginal birth but in a way this was merciful because I was able to have exactly what I wanted/expected and there’s actually mercy too just in the fact that I already know what c-section recovery is like so afterwards I didn’t have to deal with unfamiliar territory.
In the end, though, the peace mainly took the form of simple contentment… almost a good sort of complacency. The peace we all prayed for didn’t come in the form of some sort of deeply-felt spiritual experience. It was more of a quiet, ordinary acknowledgement. When I think about Josiah’s birth, the method of delivery surprisingly matters very little to me. I’m so grateful that God gave me peace that passes all understanding. By giving me a birth team that accommodated my (not unreasonable) wishes, and by working on my heart response, God allowed this birth story to be one of true peace.
This was posted in my Bible reading challenge group this week and it perfectly describes the peace I'm talking about.
The Days Afterward
In the days that followed, I distinctly felt God’s arms holding me - in the form of people He placed around me.
When the pain was unbearable, God held me up through this prayer and a verse from friends:
Dear God, you gave your body so that we could be your children. You know exactly the pain Christi is going through. Please give her relief and more of yourself. Draw especially close to her and her family today. Amen.
For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. Romans 8:18
When a visit from family was cut short because 20 minutes was all I could handle, God ensured that, through His people, I was met with grace.
When I needed rest, God provided Emily, our gentle and caring night nurse.
 |
| Emily |
When my older kids needed care for five days straight, God’s faithful care took the form of four loving parents who willingly put aside their plans to watch our children (and prune the bushes, and weed the garden, and do the laundry, and clean the house).
When sweet Josiah needed to get more milk faster, God gave us Kathy, a sister in Christ (as well as lactation consultant) whose joy it is to help moms and babies.
 |
| Kathy |
When my girl graduated preschool when I was only 6 days postpartum, God’s love took the form of dear family coming alongside us to make the day so very special for her when I didn’t have the capacity for decorations and cupcakes.
When we were weary, spending our days running on fumes, God fed our physical bodies with food provided by our village: His Church. And He fed our souls with His Word: “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst.”
There’s an Andrew Peterson song that articulates this so beautifully. This is what the Church is. Let us not grow weary.
They flew us down to Oklahoma City
Yeah, but I could hardly stand there on the stage
So sick I couldn't speak
And the fever wouldn't break
But when I stepped up to the microphone I heard it
It was the voices of the brothers at my side
They were singing out my song
When the song in me had died
Oh, shine your light on me
And the servants of the secret fire
Were gathered there
The embers of the ages
Like a living prayer
And all at once I saw the shadows flee
Shine your light on me, on me
Be a light unto my path
And a lamp unto my feet
Monday, April 16, 2018
Apple & Fruit Muffins, Translated & Modified
I made these apple strawberry muffins today from A Mummy Too. They turned out well! But I just wanted to post my own version to go back to, with a few changes from the original recipe so it's easier for me to go back to my version.
Here's my modified recipe.
Here's my modified recipe.
Apple Fruit Muffins, Translated & Modified
Ingredients
- 4 apples, peeled & grated
- 6 eggs
- 1-2/3 c. unbleached all-purpose flour
- 2 tsp. baking powder
- 2/3 tsp. salt
- 4 tsp. cinnamon
- 4 tbsp. pure maple syrup
- 2/3 c. coconut oil, canola oil, applesauce, or a combination
- 1 to 1-1/4 cup chopped dried strawberries, dried blueberries, dried cranberries, or raisins
Directions
- Preheat oven to 390°F (355°F convection).
- Whisk the eggs with the maple syrup, cinnamon and oil/applesauce.
- Grate the apples and stir into the egg mixture with the dried fruit pieces.
- Then fold in the flour, baking powder, and salt.
- Spoon into greased silicone muffin cups, and bake for approximately 20-23 minutes, until golden and cooked in the center and passes the toothpick test.
Yields 14 muffins.
Monday, January 29, 2018
Our Dory & Nemo Themed Birthday Party
We just had a great Nemo & Dory-themed 4th birthday party for our kiddo! Here are some of the ideas we used—feel free to use them as inspiration for your own Nemo & Dory party!
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This homemade piñata took FOREVER, but it was a blast!
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| Party favors! |
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| The fish net and fish bowl added a lot to a simple snack. |
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| This is the recipe I used for the blue velvet cake |
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| For the cake toppers, I used these bath toys. |
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| For the room decor, I got this kit for only $5 on Amazon. |
Monday, August 29, 2016
My Birth Testimony: A TOLAC Success Story - Part 3
The Learning Points
:::::::::::::::::::::
So, as I mentioned, it was clear that God was protecting baby #2 and me in our crazy labor and delivery!
There are many things I've been learning as a result.
::::::::::::::::
My doula told me about a website called Surrender Birth, where people share their birth testimonies. She encouraged me to write my own (hence these posts).
Anyway, as I read these testimonies, I sensed some bitterness when I read the stories that were along these lines: "I've never felt as close to God as I was during my delivery! It was magical and went exactly the way I wanted—home birth in the birth pool and everything! What an answer to my fervent prayers!"
Or this mom who accidentally had a natural birth. (How is THAT fair?!)
I've spent a bit of time fighting that bitterness and the "why couldn't I just be one of those women who can birth naturally?" question. I've visited Scriptures that remind me who I am and who God is... like the end of Job. He gives and takes away.
Why does God say "no" to anyone about anything?
Why are there some who can't have kids at all?
Why are there some whose loved ones die too young?
I get that, in the grand scheme, my problem is small compared to some others. But that doesn't mean I don't still have to process through the Big Question: Why pain?
I've spent some time reading The Problem of Pain by C.S. Lewis to grapple with this question more. This Big Question is something I've been wrestling with for the past few years, as many friends and family have passed away in the past few years as well.
I still don't have all the answers. But God's been humbling my heart to come under His sovereign authority over all things—life, death, and birth stories.
Job 42:1-3 -
Then Job answered the Lord and said: “I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted. ‘Who is this that hides counsel without knowledge?’ Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know.
::::::::::::::::
For a while at first I felt embarrassed that this VBAC I talked about wanting so badly was not something I ended up accomplishing. People kept asking about it, and I sometimes I felt a little silly having to tell everyone it didn't work out how I'd hoped.
I've had to wrestle with that a bit, too. There's simply nothing to be embarrassed about.
I still don't have all the answers. But God's been humbling my heart to come under His sovereign authority over all things—life, death, and birth stories.
Job 42:1-3 -
Then Job answered the Lord and said: “I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted. ‘Who is this that hides counsel without knowledge?’ Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know.
::::::::::::::::
I've had to wrestle with that a bit, too. There's simply nothing to be embarrassed about.
::::::::::::::::
But it also helped to provide closure for me. No more wondering or open-endedness. Just a closed door that I can fully grieve now, which is a blessing in a sense.
And the planner in me intends to fully enjoy the benefits of a scheduled cesarean next time, like lining up all my babysitters and getting a good night's sleep beforehand!
::::::::::::::::
- The entire staff at Mt. Sinai (besides the OB's I had to deal with afterward for an infected incision) was AMAZING. The whole time during labor and delivery I felt heard and respected. With each step the midwives took they explained my options and allowed me to make the decision that I wanted. They were not in a hurry to get the baby out. I knew I could trust them completely. Even the anesthesiologist was wonderful. And every nurse. They just have amazing staff there.
- They gave me time to process and grieve even during the labor, when things didn't go how I wanted. When we decided to have the c-section, I knew better this time. I knew I needed to process. Last time I was whisked away too quickly (and for no good reason, since it was not an emergency) and sobbed the whole way to the OR. This time, I asked to be left alone with Eric and Amanda for a while. I had Eric come sit on the bed and hold me and tell me true things while I cried and let out all the things I was feeling. It was SO GOOD to have that time beforehand to process the surgery before it happened.
- That awesome epidural that allowed me to still move around easily.
- I had the opportunity to TRY. I know I did everything within my power to make a VBAC happen. The only "what-if" I'm left with is "what if there was no knot in his cord?" There are no other questions like the many I had last time (such as "What if I'd known to choose a different provider or tell this one no?"). I have no regrets and wouldn't do much differently if I could.
- I didn't feel laughed at. I didn't feel like they thought I was silly for trying, or like they were looking down on me or questioning my decisions.
- I got to labor outside in the sunshine on a perfectly beautiful day (something I didn't even know I wanted till it was happening).
- Despite the One Big Request being answered with a "no," there are many specific prayers that God graciously answered with a "yes," just to remind me that He hears me. These "yes" requests—these Small Kindnesses—included:
- being able to labor in the whirlpool
- making it past 7cm (where things stopped the last time)
- being able to experience natural/non-induced contractions
- not having my water break before contractions began
- having Eric with me the whole time
- having Amanda AND Eric in the OR (not typical)
- having Eric present for everything they did to the baby
- Recovery has been a thousand times better this time—even with the infected incision and much resulting antibiotic ridiculousness. I'm much more able to do things and feel already at three months the way I felt at a year or more after my oldest was born. I think this is because I'm pretty sure I had mild PPD (postpartum depression) after my first delivery, which is not the case this time. Now, I'm like "What?! You mean I can feel mostly like my normal self and not living in a dark cloud after having a baby?! I had NO IDEA!"
- Amanda (my doula) was able to be present for the actual birth. This was a concern because she had to leave a few times since my labor was so long. But when the actual birth happened, she was there for it.
- My little guy has been a super nurser! He had latching figured out from the very beginning and is efficient, too. He's also been a good sleeper overall (despite his recent sleep regression). He's such a happy, low-key, straightforward kid.
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We were created for heaven, so life under the sun is bound to be less than what our hearts long for (recent Ecclesiastes sermon series influence there).
When God cursed Eve after the Fall, He said she would bear children in pain. It never says that pain is limited only to the pain of contractions and pushing. It very well can be the pain of births not going as planned, of surgery and resulting complications, etc. it also never says anything about my being exempt from the effects of the Fall.
It is my hope that, as I process through these ideas, my "mad at God" attitude will continue to dissipate and become instead humility and a longing for That Day.
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Well, there it is, guys. My whole birth testimony. I hope you can see how I can call it a TOLAC Success Story despite a repeat cesarean, and I hope you enjoyed reading these posts! It helped me so much to write them.
If you had a disappointing delivery or a difficult recovery, can I encourage you to write out your story? Grab a journal or a computer... and just write away. It can be so therapeutic. I'd be happy to read it if you want to share ♥
Thursday, August 18, 2016
My Birth Testimony: A TOLAC Success Story - Part 2
Birth #2: A Second Chance. And a Chance to Trust Him.
Before reading, check out Part 1 here.
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In August 2015, we found out we were pregnant again!
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In August 2015, we found out we were pregnant again!
I'd known since the day I had my daughter that I'd want to try for a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean). I also knew I would need to go with a different provider if that endeavor were to have any chance at success.
So I opted for a group of midwives in Milwaukee (45 minutes away). They came highly recommended by the doulas in my ICAN group.
I could tell at my prenatal appointments that this experience would be totally different. They had a very mom-centered approach to childbirth.
I could tell at my prenatal appointments that this experience would be totally different. They had a very mom-centered approach to childbirth.
I hired an amazing doula (Amanda).
I did everything a woman should do if she is trying for a VBAC.
And then the day arrived!
Here's how it all went down. It's a long story, because it was a long labor.
Saturday, May 7, 2016
6:00 pm (hour 0)
Contractions became regular and increasingly stronger while we celebrated an early Mother's Day with Eric's parents.
9:00 pm (hour 3)
JM was in bed for the night after I dawdled putting her to bed because I knew this was the last time I would with her being my only baby. I tried to sleep as best I could despite increasing contractions.
Sunday, May 8, 2016 (Mother's Day)
4:00am (hour 10)
I could no longer sleep through contractions. They were 4 minutes apart and a minute long, which is typically indicative of active labor. So we called my in-laws and our doula and headed to the hospital (a 45-min drive). Amanda met us there.
6:30am (hour 12.5)
It was determined that, though completely effaced, I was only 1/2 cm dilated. How discouraging! But, I was trusting God—and my providers—to help me persevere. We walked around the hospital for a bit to try and move things along. We also grabbed some breakfast.
8:00am (hour 14)
I was still only 1 cm, so we went ahead with a membrane sweep, and they told me to leave the hospital until things progressed further (How will I know if things have progressed further if I'm already having contractions 4 minutes apart?!?!). Amanda went home to rest up for when we needed her most.
9:30am-2:00pm (hours 15.5-20)
Eric and I took a nap in the car, then walked around Milwaukee for a while (didn't want to drive all the way home just to have to drive all the way back). We walked around the Marquette campus (Eric gave me a tour of his alma mater), while I did some exercises that my doula sent me.
It was a beautiful day and laboring in the sunshine on that beautiful campus was therapeutic for me. The tulips were in full bloom, and the way the sun hit them had them shining golden, violet, and red like jewels.
I would close my eyes and lift my face to the sun during contractions, and I could feel God's tender care for me through the warmth and light. These moments were glimpses of the "ideal birth" I'd always pictured: intensely painful, to the point that it brought me into some other realm of being where I could commune with God and fall completely dependent into His arms.
Eric and I held hands and talked about anything and everything. It was like your typical perfect date... um, except for the being in labor part. That part was not typical date material.
By the time we finished our sweet onion chicken teriyaki sub from Subway, my head was swirling with the pain, contractions were closer, and it all felt unbearable.
2:30pm (hour 20.5)Here's how it all went down. It's a long story, because it was a long labor.
Saturday, May 7, 2016
6:00 pm (hour 0)
Contractions became regular and increasingly stronger while we celebrated an early Mother's Day with Eric's parents.
9:00 pm (hour 3)
JM was in bed for the night after I dawdled putting her to bed because I knew this was the last time I would with her being my only baby. I tried to sleep as best I could despite increasing contractions.
Sunday, May 8, 2016 (Mother's Day)
4:00am (hour 10)
I could no longer sleep through contractions. They were 4 minutes apart and a minute long, which is typically indicative of active labor. So we called my in-laws and our doula and headed to the hospital (a 45-min drive). Amanda met us there.
6:30am (hour 12.5)
It was determined that, though completely effaced, I was only 1/2 cm dilated. How discouraging! But, I was trusting God—and my providers—to help me persevere. We walked around the hospital for a bit to try and move things along. We also grabbed some breakfast.
8:00am (hour 14)
I was still only 1 cm, so we went ahead with a membrane sweep, and they told me to leave the hospital until things progressed further (How will I know if things have progressed further if I'm already having contractions 4 minutes apart?!?!). Amanda went home to rest up for when we needed her most.
9:30am-2:00pm (hours 15.5-20)
Eric and I took a nap in the car, then walked around Milwaukee for a while (didn't want to drive all the way home just to have to drive all the way back). We walked around the Marquette campus (Eric gave me a tour of his alma mater), while I did some exercises that my doula sent me.
It was a beautiful day and laboring in the sunshine on that beautiful campus was therapeutic for me. The tulips were in full bloom, and the way the sun hit them had them shining golden, violet, and red like jewels.
I would close my eyes and lift my face to the sun during contractions, and I could feel God's tender care for me through the warmth and light. These moments were glimpses of the "ideal birth" I'd always pictured: intensely painful, to the point that it brought me into some other realm of being where I could commune with God and fall completely dependent into His arms.
Eric and I held hands and talked about anything and everything. It was like your typical perfect date... um, except for the being in labor part. That part was not typical date material.
By the time we finished our sweet onion chicken teriyaki sub from Subway, my head was swirling with the pain, contractions were closer, and it all felt unbearable.
We went back to the hospital, where they found I was at 1.5 cm (womp womp). They brought me to a labor and delivery room (even though I was still technically not admitted) because triage was full. They wondered if baby was nudged in wrong, hindering dilation—possibly posterior. So I labored on a birthing ball, continued doing the Miles circuit as best I could, and also tried to get some rest.
6:30pm (hour 24.5)
I was sent home for the night. Things were simply not progressing very quickly. Despite it feeling otherwise, I was still in early labor. But going home only produced a ton of anxiety for me. I felt like I was going backwards.
7:30pm (hour 25.5)
When we got home, the neighbors were having a huge, loud party (seriously—there was even a bouncy house). Some kids were coming into our yard, and I yelled at them as if I was a grumpy old man. Our landlord (who lives upstairs) saw us arrive and was concerned there was no baby yet. All of our parents were there because they were switching who was watching our daughter. It was good to see them and to see my little lady, but the commotion was more than I could handle being in labor. Soon enough everyone left and the party next-door died down. I ate some lasagna from the freezer.
9:00pm (hour 27)
I called my angel chiropractor and met her at her office way after hours for a middle-of-labor adjustment to try and get my little guy in the right position to descend. I then tried to get some sleep—and failed miserably.
11:00pm (hour 29)
Around midnight things got super-intense. I couldn't handle the contractions. They were super-long, and I wasn't getting any breaks in between them. I could no longer breathe through them well on my own. Life was basically one big contraction at this point. So we went back to the hospital. I called my doula, who joined us there—again.
Monday, May 9, 2016
12:00am-3:00am (hour 30-33)
I was 1.5 cm and stayed in triage for a while with Nancy, the midwife who was on shift at that point.
4:00am (hour 34)
I was finally admitted to the hospital at 2 cm after baby descended a bit more.
5:00-6:30am (hours 35-36.5)
I got to labor in the whirlpool. I finally got to relax for a while. It was so desperately needed. I'm so grateful I had an opportunity to labor there. My exhausted mind melted into the twinkle lights on the ceiling. I think I may have even gotten some sleep.
I rested in bed, as my contractions had become much more spaced out after the whirlpool (good for resting, bad for progressing). Nicole (one of the midwives I hadn't met and hands-down the best midwife I had the whole time, which is saying a lot because they were all great) came on shift. God was gracious to place her there for this part of my labor. She was amazing. She even let me order oatmeal (which was a big accomplishment, believe me)!
9:30am (hour 39.5)
Nicole took about an hour to thoroughly discuss with me my options for either getting some more rest or speeding things along. I could do some walking (which hadn't accomplished much of anything up to this point), go home (we all saw how poorly that went last time), do therapeutic rest (morphine so you can sleep, essentially), or induce with Pitocin. I opted for induction, as I have had adverse reactions to narcotics in the past and had a relatively high Bishop score that indicated conditions for induction were favorable (basically every factor was cooperating except dilation, which was still only at 4 cm).
11:00am-9:00pm (hour 41-51)
I labored this way all day, for about 10 hours. I spent some time in the shower, and tried many positions in the bed. Labor definitely intensified during this time since they were now Pitocin contractions. I had a lot of back labor, and during every contraction Nicole, Eric, or Amanda would push on my back for counterpressure, which felt so good (relatively speaking, anyway). I could hardly bear contractions without that each time. I really, really wanted to have my Bible verses for labor read to me during this time, but we couldn't find them in our bag. I was disheartened and frustrated about it, but didn't have the wherewithal to communicate how much I needed them. By 8:00pm I was at 4 cm, fully effaced, and at -1 station.
9:00pm (hour 51)
At this point I opted for an epidural. Fatigue was a bigger enemy than any potential results of an epidural. I had the best epidural EVER. The doctor who did my epidural was a total sweetheart—complete night and day from the snarky anesthesiologist who had done the epidural for my first birth. I could barely feel the contractions but was still able to use my legs well enough to change positions pretty easily on my own! I slept well that night, and woke every hour or two to switch sides since gravity was causing the epi to lose effectiveness on either side after a while.
Tuesday, May 10, 2016
2:30am (hour 56.5)
We decided to have them break my water and put in an internal monitor to better regulate the Pitocin.
5:30am (hour 59.5)
My IV came out so they put in a new one. They also topped off my epidural since I started to feel too much. Rockstar Amanda went home for a while to care for her kids and get some rest. My backup doula, Eleanor, arrived (she has a British accent, which is essentially always a calming thing).
7:00am (hour 61)
I measured 6 cm. Baby was at -1 station and had some caput (scalp) swelling. Midwife Paul came on shift. I continued to labor in various positions. There were a couple times that baby's heart rate decelerated, which brought in crews of OBs and nurses to help me change position and monitor him until things improved. Those moments were a little scary. We started to wonder what might be causing that and trying different positions to get him off his cord.
8:00am (hour 62)
I reached 7 cm—the point at which labor had stalled with my first labor.
12:00pm (hour 66)
I was 9.5cm and 100% effaced! It seemed like it'd be happening soon! Things were getting so close. Eleanor left and Amanda returned.
1:30pm (hour 67.5)
Things were not looking good. Baby had more swelling on his head, and things had regressed to 9cm and 70%. Something was causing the little guy to move back up instead of descending properly. Paul recommended a c-section. We agreed and opted for the cesarean. We knew something wasn't going right for our baby and just knew it was the right decision. I asked for some time alone with Eric and Amanda.
When all staff had gone, Eric came over and held me in his arms. I cried and cried and cried. I had peace about the decision, but was still grieving the loss of the VBAC I'd wanted. I asked Eric to tell me true things, and he preached the Gospel to me, reminding me who (and Whose) I am. The OB stopped in, asking if I was ready, and I said that I needed a little more time. It was so very good to have the time I needed to cry and grieve in the moment. I'm grateful to have had the realization to know I needed it, and the strength—even after 68 hours of labor—to ask for it. Besides that little "intrusion" from the OB, I did not feel rushed to finish the grieving I needed to do.
3:00pm (hour 69)
They prepped me for the cesarean. I was able to feel too much when they tested the epidural strength so I had to be too drugged to remember the actual operation.
3:53pm (hour 70)
Little Man was born at 3:53pm!
I'd hoped for a family-centered c-section where I'd be awake, have immediate skin-to-skin, etc. That didn't happen because I was essentially on another planet during the surgery. But the first thing I remember upon "coming to" was having my baby placed on my chest to nurse—a welcome change from last time.
While doing the surgery, they found two things that could have been catastrophic had we continued to labor much longer: Baby's cord had a knot in it. (He was a little blue, needed oxygen, and his 1-minute APGAR was only 5.)
I labored this way all day, for about 10 hours. I spent some time in the shower, and tried many positions in the bed. Labor definitely intensified during this time since they were now Pitocin contractions. I had a lot of back labor, and during every contraction Nicole, Eric, or Amanda would push on my back for counterpressure, which felt so good (relatively speaking, anyway). I could hardly bear contractions without that each time. I really, really wanted to have my Bible verses for labor read to me during this time, but we couldn't find them in our bag. I was disheartened and frustrated about it, but didn't have the wherewithal to communicate how much I needed them. By 8:00pm I was at 4 cm, fully effaced, and at -1 station.
9:00pm (hour 51)
At this point I opted for an epidural. Fatigue was a bigger enemy than any potential results of an epidural. I had the best epidural EVER. The doctor who did my epidural was a total sweetheart—complete night and day from the snarky anesthesiologist who had done the epidural for my first birth. I could barely feel the contractions but was still able to use my legs well enough to change positions pretty easily on my own! I slept well that night, and woke every hour or two to switch sides since gravity was causing the epi to lose effectiveness on either side after a while.
2:30am (hour 56.5)
We decided to have them break my water and put in an internal monitor to better regulate the Pitocin.
5:30am (hour 59.5)
My IV came out so they put in a new one. They also topped off my epidural since I started to feel too much. Rockstar Amanda went home for a while to care for her kids and get some rest. My backup doula, Eleanor, arrived (she has a British accent, which is essentially always a calming thing).
7:00am (hour 61)
I measured 6 cm. Baby was at -1 station and had some caput (scalp) swelling. Midwife Paul came on shift. I continued to labor in various positions. There were a couple times that baby's heart rate decelerated, which brought in crews of OBs and nurses to help me change position and monitor him until things improved. Those moments were a little scary. We started to wonder what might be causing that and trying different positions to get him off his cord.
8:00am (hour 62)
I reached 7 cm—the point at which labor had stalled with my first labor.
12:00pm (hour 66)
I was 9.5cm and 100% effaced! It seemed like it'd be happening soon! Things were getting so close. Eleanor left and Amanda returned.
1:30pm (hour 67.5)
Things were not looking good. Baby had more swelling on his head, and things had regressed to 9cm and 70%. Something was causing the little guy to move back up instead of descending properly. Paul recommended a c-section. We agreed and opted for the cesarean. We knew something wasn't going right for our baby and just knew it was the right decision. I asked for some time alone with Eric and Amanda.
When all staff had gone, Eric came over and held me in his arms. I cried and cried and cried. I had peace about the decision, but was still grieving the loss of the VBAC I'd wanted. I asked Eric to tell me true things, and he preached the Gospel to me, reminding me who (and Whose) I am. The OB stopped in, asking if I was ready, and I said that I needed a little more time. It was so very good to have the time I needed to cry and grieve in the moment. I'm grateful to have had the realization to know I needed it, and the strength—even after 68 hours of labor—to ask for it. Besides that little "intrusion" from the OB, I did not feel rushed to finish the grieving I needed to do.
3:00pm (hour 69)
They prepped me for the cesarean. I was able to feel too much when they tested the epidural strength so I had to be too drugged to remember the actual operation.
3:53pm (hour 70)
Little Man was born at 3:53pm!
I'd hoped for a family-centered c-section where I'd be awake, have immediate skin-to-skin, etc. That didn't happen because I was essentially on another planet during the surgery. But the first thing I remember upon "coming to" was having my baby placed on my chest to nurse—a welcome change from last time.
While doing the surgery, they found two things that could have been catastrophic had we continued to labor much longer: Baby's cord had a knot in it. (He was a little blue, needed oxygen, and his 1-minute APGAR was only 5.)
AND, my uterine scar had a 7cm window in it that could have become a rupture! So, all in all, it's obvious that God was protecting us, and I'm thankful that He very clearly showed us WHY, which He didn't have to do.
Yes, it was still really disappointing to have another cesarean. And, given the circumstances, all my providers agreed that in the future I should only have cesarean birth(s), which was also disappointing news, as I know that only increases potential risks and complications... and major surgery is no walk in the park.
But, I'm grateful for God's protection and His clarity in showing me the "why" and in clearly closing that door. In some ways, it'a a relief to at least know the door is closed, so I can fully grieve and move on. I will always wonder what would have happened had I had a different experience with birth #1 (what if I'd been able to wait for labor to begin naturally, what if I'd waited to agree to the c-section to see if things progressed more, etc.), but I simply must take this as an opportunity to trust that God knows what he's doing and allowed all of it to happen that way for a reason. He could have given me more knowledge about my options back then, but He didn't for a reason. And I know my God, and I know He's trustworthy and perfect. I know He's faithful. So, despite the questions, in the end, that's all I need to know.
Wednesday, August 17, 2016
My Birth Testimony: A TOLAC Success Story - Part 1
NOTE: If you are currently expecting your first baby, you may want to use caution in proceeding with reading this. Just because I had a traumatic experience with my first birth does not mean you want to hear about it in this season of your life!
Did I have a second c-section?
I had a very traumatic birth experience. I had wanted a completely natural, unmedicated, vaginal birth. Unfortunately, this dream of a natural birth was shattered.
I fought bitterness, anger, and feelings of failure for a long time.
I still do, a little bit.
(In retrospect, I've come to realize that I also may have had postpartum depression. I know now that PPD is more common after c-sections and is more common than you might think).
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Yes.
Was my TOLAC (Trial of Labor After Cesarean) successful?
Yes.
The two are not mutually exclusive.
The two are not mutually exclusive.
After my second birth, my doula pointed me to the Surrender Birth website. She encouraged me to write a birth testimony.
Thing is, my birth testimony starts about three years ago, when we were newly pregnant with #1...
Birth #1 and My Heart
We found out we were pregnant with our little Poppyseed in May 2013. Hooray!
Like many women, I started excitedly making plans. I figured I should probably get in to see a doctor soon, so I asked a few friends for recommendations and picked an OB who seemed good and was in my network.
In retrospect, I wish I'd taken a lot more time to choose the right provider for me and my birth. Many OB's in the United States today are simply do not have the same birth philosophy I do. Or, perhaps a better way to say it is that most are in a different place on the natural birth/medical intervention spectrum than where I'm at on the spectrum.
But I didn't know. I didn't know that provider and place make a HUGE difference in your birth experience.
Or I underestimated how important it would be to me to have a positive birth experience.
Or perhaps it was simply that I wasn't used to how very medical everything is when you are at the hospital... I just wasn't prepared for IV's, BP cuffs going every 15 minutes, nurses coming an and out every time I closed my eyes to rest...
There's so much more I could say than the following, but the story of birth #1 is as follows:
Worse, I did not often feel respected, valued, or genuinely cared for as a patient during my six days at the hospital. I truly believe that no one person, but rather the system in place, is at fault for this outcome.
After my water broke on January 27, 2014, we headed straight to the hospital to be induced (as instructed). After about 9-10 hours of laboring this way (which included sweet moments of God bringing Scripture to mind as I labored), I opted for an epidural (those nasty Pitocin contractions!). Around 36 hours after my water had broken, they told me I had been at 7cm for several hours. They thought I should have a c-section because "things weren't progressing."
So I did what they said. Because I figured it's probably best to listen to the doctor. I didn't know there were other equally safe options.
I hadn't written an "in case of c-section" birth plan. Because I didn't know there are different ways to do c-sections. They didn't cover that in the hospital birth class.
And I sobbed the whole way to the operating room.
Laying, cold, on a hard operating table.
In a fog, spiraling amidst bustling.
Then, baby cries!
No one said "It's a girl!" I had to ask. And ask. And ask. Repeatedly.
No snuggles.
No celebrating.
Just a brief glance.
And then whisking my baby away.
Then waiting over an hour before I got to see my husband or by baby.
In the following days...
Nurses waltzing into the bathroom talking on the phone while I'm peeing and would like privacy.
People making me look at paperwork while I'm attempting to nurse and bond with my new daughter.
Nurses asking me, without explanation to breathe into an incentive spirometer while I'm trying to talk with my doctor.
This is a once-in-a-lifetime event I'll remember all my life.
And for them, it seems just another day in the grind.
Laying, cold, on a hard operating table.
In a fog, spiraling amidst bustling.
Then, baby cries!
No one said "It's a girl!" I had to ask. And ask. And ask. Repeatedly.
No snuggles.
No celebrating.
Just a brief glance.
And then whisking my baby away.
Then waiting over an hour before I got to see my husband or by baby.
In the following days...
Nurses waltzing into the bathroom talking on the phone while I'm peeing and would like privacy.
People making me look at paperwork while I'm attempting to nurse and bond with my new daughter.
Nurses asking me, without explanation to breathe into an incentive spirometer while I'm trying to talk with my doctor.
This is a once-in-a-lifetime event I'll remember all my life.
And for them, it seems just another day in the grind.
And I sobbed a lot for a long time afterward.
That week in the hospital was the most traumatic experience of my life. I wrote this to a friend about a month later. It gives a pretty accurate picture of how things were for me in the early days after that experience:
It's been a lot to process, because labor and delivery did not go at all how I wanted. I was writing in my journal the other day everything I could remember from my time there, and I realized that I'm angry, because I hardly remember what it was like to hold and feed my baby for the first time. And just the way things are run at hospitals, I felt like I couldn't just be together with my family and enjoy bonding with our new baby.
She really felt like a stranger at first. Our second night at home, I remember sitting on my husband's lap and just sobbing that I just wanted her to go away because she was an intruder and I just wanted to watch a movie with my husband and then go to bed and sleep all night like we'd always done. And then I felt like a terrible mother for thinking such terrible things about my baby.
But things have gotten better now. There was one day that I realized that, since I'm not just doing motherhood for my husband or for my daughter or for myself, but because it is what God has called me to do... that made it easier to do. I don't know if I could have the strength for it otherwise.
It's still hard sometimes. I'm actually sick with sinus stuff right now, so I'm really hoping the baby doesn't catch it. Yay for antibodies in breast milk :) Today was a hard day because my head hurt so much and was all in a fog, so I was not a very attentive mommy... but there was one sweet, cherishable moment when I looked at JM and said, "Sorry I'm being a lame mommy today, sweetie." And she looked at me and gave a big smile :) I'm really glad that happened today in particular.
Grieving it took a long time. I joined the local ICAN chapter. I realized I'm not the only one who has had a disappointing birth experience. I wrote letters to some of the doctors and nurses who were there for my labor and delivery. I met many friends who were grieving their births, too. And when I talked with them, they understood: I needed permission to grieve.
"You should be happy! You have a healthy baby!" Many say.
I may have a healthy baby. But that does not mean I don't have a loss to grieve.
Birth is something inherently part of who a woman is.
This is something I'm supposed to be able to do!
This is something women just do.
Why can't I?
This is something I'm supposed to be able to do!
This is something women just do.
Why can't I?
I fought bitterness, anger, and feelings of failure for a long time.
I still do, a little bit.
(In retrospect, I've come to realize that I also may have had postpartum depression. I know now that PPD is more common after c-sections and is more common than you might think).
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