Kahlil's Labor + Birth Story...My Journey To A VBAC
The Reason Why I Was So Focused On A Non-Medicated Birth
My journey to a VBAC starts with the AC part…After Cesarean. (as they all do)
Ira’s birth June 2, 2016 began in the early morning of May 31 and was a planned home birth.
I have a blood clotting disorder called Factor V Leiden so I am on Lovenox (blood thinning) injections two times a day every day during pregnancy + 6 weeks of postpartum. Because of the blood thinning injections, doctors like to suggest being induced right at 39 weeks.
The reasoning is IF you want an epidural, you will need to have had 12 hours between your last shot and said epidural. Or if you needed an emergency cesarean and therefore needed a spinal, you’d need 12 hours between last shot & that needle going in (or you’d have to go under general anesthesia).
Because I was not only planning and hoping for a non-medicated labor + delivery, but also at home, there were zero reasons for me to be induced, despite the MFM doctors perpetual suggestion.
My homebirth midwife attended a few of my Maternal Fetal Medicine appointments with me, to ask questions and be sure we knew what risks were doing a home birth.
The doctor’s were not in support of a home birth, but they rarely are — these are two entirely different worlds.
Through many conversations, it became clear that the main risk was if I took an injection and then somehow delivered the baby within that 12 hours…I could potentially hemorrhage. My midwife is able to inject shots of pitocin in these cases and has dealt with hemorrhaging before, so she felt prepared if that happened.
The other risk factors that accompany Factor V Leiden and pregnancy were essentially dismantled because I was on lovenox — placenta abruption being one of the main (terrifying) risks. The likelihood of that happening was just as small with my injections as though I didn’t have the blood clotting disorder.
As a former doula and a birth photographer, I had supported, documented, and witnessed all types of births: in homes, in the hospital, even a cesarean. I looooove birth. It is powerful.
I have never feared birth and deeply anticipated that experience of pushing an entire human through my body and pulling them up onto my chest.
As my first labor with Ira didn’t progress after 12 and then 24 and then 36 hours…my team of midwives and I made the devastating call to transfer to the hospital. Baby was not in distress, but we didn’t want to put him in distress from being in active labor for so long.
My midwife’s suggestion was that we transfer, maybe I get an epidural at that point to rest, have some pitocin to see if that will indeed move my contractions into transition, and help Ira move.
He was mal-positioned…he was asynclitic.
After two failed epidurals, pitocin not really working either, and four entire hours of pushing at 10 cm dilated…my midwife-now-doula pulled me out of my zone, “Natalie…you’ve done everything you can. You have tried every single position, you have fought harder than anyone I’ve ever seen…I think it is time to opt in for a cesarean before baby does go into distress. You have worked so hard.”
Even typing those words out makes me cry. Every time. Because I was in the ZONE of pushing, bearing down, with all my might, SURE HE WOULD COME OUT. But his head was driving straight into my right hip, swelling and not turning.
I succumbed and signed the documents for a cesarean.
At least I’ll still have that magical moment of meeting him…of having him placed on my chest after working so hard. That was truly what I had been envisioning the entire labor process: having him placed on my chest. Finally.
We discovered there is some sort of weird webbing in my nervous system. This is why the Pitocin didn’t work correctly, why two epidurals failed. This is why when they placed the spinal to numb me up for the surgery, I could still feel them pinching me. This is why they had to place me under general anesthesia.
Which then in turn dropped Ira’s heart rate to nothing, needing resuscitated at his retrieval, neither mom nor dad present with him his first moments. His apgar 1.
Waking up after surgery was a form of torture itself, having the nurses do their necessary job of pushing on my uterus every 15 minutes…but it now had 8 layers of stitches and zero numbing medication for it.
Tears stream my eyes when I think of meeting Ira. I was sobbing, wailing, screaming, begging them to stop the pain, and here came my husband bringing our perfect baby to us.
The grief in how poorly our birth went…when I had done everything “right.”
Preparing For A TOLAC
When I got that positive pregnancy test in November 2019, I was terrified of reliving and repeating that traumatic birth experience.
I wanted to attempt a Home Birth After Cesarean (HBAC) but Oregon laws have made it illegal for me to do so — they changed the verbiage in Community Midwifery Licensing making it illegal for people with blood clotting disorders to birth at home under the care of a midwife.
My pregnancy was already grief filled for a number of reasons. It took me until July 7th to accept that I was not birthing this baby at home or in a birthing center. PLUS we are living in a pandemic which adds in a million other losses.
I spent many evenings of my third trimester soaking in the tub, listening to birthing affirmations, attempting to practice deep breathing techniques. I imagined baby coming out of me, all the things I did to prepare the first time, but this time as I’d do these things I’d also be thwarted with images of a repeat birth trauma experience.
What if baby again didn’t line up in my birthing canal right?
I did birth trauma tapping as I approached my due date.
As my belly grew rounder and due date came closer, I was having a lot of flash backs from Ira’s birth.
Many appointments with the Maternal Fetal Medicine doctors, I was asked to be induced at 39 weeks. Why? I would ask. It was always about planning to get off my blood thinners in case I wanted an epidural…which I had stated over and over again, I didn’t want one.
I had a call with an anesthesiologist to discuss the chance of a repeat failed spinal if I ended up needing a cesarean. He said it was very likely my body wouldn’t take the meds, just as it didn’t the first time.
I knew without a doubt that I wanted to go into labor on my own.
Pitocin —or other medical inductions— forces your body into labor when you or baby are likely not ready.
These contractions are synthetic; they are MORE painful than natural contractions. They are harder on the mother and the baby.
Often, because our bodies aren’t ready to be in labor and we are forcing it do contract, labors last waaaaay longer and end in cesareans.
Most moms who are induced need an epidural because the contractions are so intense and so much more painful than natural contractions (which are already painful as hell).
Epidurals can slow the contractions / slow labor down.
Again, leading to a cesarean.
Because baby ends up in distress or mama does, or both.
It is a cascade of interventions. One I wanted to avoid at all costs.
I had zero need to be induced, and yet the doctors continually pushed it.
Prodromal Labor + Birth Trauma Flashbacks
July 5th was when prodromal labor began. Contractions every 6-7 minutes apart, all night long, but they didn’t get crippling.
July 7th they did and I was convinced it was the real deal — I had to focus my breathing through them, I was incredibly irritated, called my boys’s dad to come get them, I was sure I was in labor with contractions 3-4 minutes apart, 60 seconds long. After six hours of this and my midwife/doula arriving (and baby daddy), she said let’s transfer to the hospital!
Me snapping a few pics, really thinking this was it:
Because it is a pandemic, my hospital wasn’t allowing anyone but dads to assist labors.
I needed Julia.
We last minute changed hospitals and drove to OHSU, where I delivered Ira.
As soon as we pulled into the parking lot, my contractions slowed and my heart dropped — the flashbacks started and I felt a physical change in my body. We were sent home a few hours later.
I knew in those moments I couldn’t birth at OHSU.
At 39 weeks pregnant, I switched hospitals so I could have both baby’s dad + doula present.
Most every night I had these consistent contractions, close together, but they didn’t get as intense.
Wednesday July 22, Kevin asked me if I wanted to join him and his boys at a hotel for the night downtown Portland.
I brought my Young Living happy mail I was preparing and was grateful for a big bed to sleep in! I have a twin at home, haha.
We rode the electric scooters downtown, each of us with one of the big boys, my belly really taking up space.
I had taken one black cohosh pill every hour for five hours. And had zero contractions all night!
It’s Time!
Thursday morning around 10 am, July 23, I noticed my underwear was soaked and I assumed it was just new kinds of discharge. Ya know! Pregnancy and stuff.
I and Kevin went to our own homes; he lives 30-45 minutes from me depending on traffic.
I was working on happy mail, stacking newly enrolled members under my very first business leg (hey Hannah!), and trying to clean my nasty house. My big boys Sage and Ira were at their dads because his parents were in town.
I noticed my underwear was wet again; it had no smell or color to it. I was not sure if the black cohosh had done anything or not…and was hoping for a DRAMATIC water break if my water broke haha. I was bouncing on my yoga ball and kept feeling small bits of water come out but didn’t want to get my hopes up.
I texted Julia, my midwife/doula, and she asked if I was soaking through pads. SMART. So I stuck a pad in.
Around 1:30 I figured I should eat; I started making 3 eggs + toast. As I stood at my counter gushes of water kept coming down. By 2 pm there was a small puddle below me on the floor and my spandex were soaked.
Sterling (housemate/landlord) came down to help me with a spider nest. I felt a contraction start and worked really hard to focus on what Sterling was telling me about remodeling the basement.
I texted Kevin at 3:09 pm, “I might go to Petco to get test strips to see if this is pH for amniotic fluid lol.”
He texted back, “What????”
Ten minutes later after the puddle was growing in the kitchen I texted him, “I mean, this is definitely my water. I am not going to get strips.”
“Okay, then should I come that way? Do I have time to shower?” he asked.
“Yes you’re fiiiiiiine. Just poop, shower, chill. I am not having intense CLOSE contractions quuite yet…Julia said they start within 24 hours of water leaking typically — I’m going to eat my food, finish working, maybe clean?, shower, try to rest.” I remember feeling so cool calm and collected. Like, we good, all is good, aint nothing to see here.
He texts, “Okay so I don’t need to rush there? WTF. I’m lost!”
I said, “I feel oddly calm right now but also my contractions are not suuuper intense yet. Don’t chill like sit down and nap, I mean shower and stuff, but don’t be freaking out.”
45 minutes later at 4:15 I texted him, “I can’t get off the toilet to do anything because I am leaking and need a diaper. My hips are RAGING. I am about to try and vacuum and sweep, but I can’t stop leaking. Also Sage and Ira are almost here to ‘get their bikes’ but really just so I can give them big hugs.”
… three minutes later I sent him a really bad “F” word and also “THE CONTRACTIONS ARE HERE AND HARD AND ITS GO TIME.”
My boys came around 4:35 and my contractions were 45-60 seconds long, 3-4 minutes apart. We got some quick hugs, kisses, and snapped one last pic before they left.
I went back down into my basement, had my essential oils going, and I sat on my yoga ball to breathe my way through each contraction. I was wishing I had told Kevin to get here earlier, because my hips were killing me.
I labored at home alone until he arrived around 6 pm.
Julia arrived by 6:45 pm.
Leading up to this point and at this point and still today and likely forever…I will be super sad we were unable to have a birth photographer. This pandemic has taken so much from so many of us, and I will forever let myself be disappointed that it took away my chance at having this incredibly special labor documented.
Julia suggested we transfer at that point because my contractions were 2-3 minutes apart, 60 seconds long, and very intense.
We grabbed our bags and our masks, loaded up, and drove.
I sat in the front seat backwards…leaning over the seat / hugging it / trying to breathe through and maintain focus on not letting myself get out of control from the pain.
We pulled up to Portland Providence Hospital’s Emergency entrance around 7:40, someone rushed me a wheel chair, Kevin + Julia parked, I thought about asking for a photo in our masks but the words couldn’t come out of my mouth.
I was supposed to have a COVID test done at admittance, but because I was having contractions 1-2 minutes apart, they waived it and let us get set up with the midwives at the hospital (which is a blessing because I had requested this and they said it will all depend on how full they are…and they didn’t really want to because of my blood clotting disorder…but they let us!)
Julia gave all the people my birth plan:
(If you have questions about this, let me know! I’m here to help other mamas feel empowered to make their own educated decisions)
At this point, it all goes so fast and slow in my head. It is vivid in memory. I was really and truly in my birthing zone, so memory is an interesting thing.
I recall the midwife, also named Julia, asking me to reconsider having an IV placed so that if anything happened where they needed IV access, it was already there.
I breathed through another contraction then said, “I’d prefer not to have one.”
She asked me to think about it and said we could talk again later.
I moved from the yoga ball to the toilet to the tub.
Around 9:30 in the tub my body transitioned into pushing.
I heard Julia the midwife gently say, “We can’t do water births here unfortunately, so you will need to get out of the tub …”
I went to the squat bar to the bed and back to the squat bar and back to the bed.
With every contraction I needed Kevin and others to be pushing my hips in towards each other, which is something I have done for many women while they birthed.
Julia asked me if she could check me for the first time…it was 10 pm.
My body had already been pushing through the contractions, and she wanted to ensure I was fully dilated. I sure the heck was. And baby was +1!
I then began bearing down and putting everything I had into my pushing.
“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,” I kept saying.
Michelle, the nurse, told me to instead say, “Come out, come out, come out.”
I was on my hands and knees pushing and I kept having intense flash backs from pushing Ira. I had pushed for four hours, and I remember being on my hands and knees SURE he was about to fly right out of me, and throwing up tons of pink gatorade all over the hospital bed.
The flashbacks were bringing me out of focus from my pushing and it was hard for me to stay in my birthing zone.
I told my doula Julia I was struggling with flash backs. What if I was pushing for hours and all this pain with no medication only to end with another terrible cesarean?
She reminded me the two labors have been totally different.. my contractions started at 3:30/4…and it was 11 pm. Only 7 hours and already pushing! With Ira it was TWO DAYS of active labor before pushing.
I asked her to count through the pushes for me; I remember that helped last time.
“I need you to get 3 good pushes per contraction,” she said, “And I’m going to count to 7 each push.'“
SEVEN?! Why was I thinking three!
She and Kevin would count, I would close my eyes and go deep within myself and push all my air and strength down through my butt.
At some point Nurse Michelle asked if we wanted the mirror to see his head, because you can see it every time I pushed. I immediately answered “NO EFFING WAY” but no words came out, I was just in my head screaming NO WAY and I heard Kevin’s excited voice say, “Yes! Bring the mirror!”
It felt like he was crowning + we were in the ring of fire for a solid 30 minutes — that burn and sting so intense words will never describe it or bring it justice.
I remember saying over and over again, “Come on baby, come out Kahlil,” when really I wanted to say, “I can’t, this hurts, this hurts, bad words bad words bad words, this hurts.”
I remember going so deep into myself it was pitch black with every push, and I kept reminding myself there is no way to get rid of this pain except pushing him through.
There is no way out of this but through.
I had to literally push life through my body, through the pain, in order to find some sort of relief. I could do this, I was doing this.
As I reminded myself this with every intense moment over the course of those 1.5-2 hours of pushing, I would look into the mirror (which was a mixture of horrifying and empowering) and see more and more of my baby’s hairy head.
Kevin, the two Julias, and Michelle were the best birth team. Counting through every push. Excitedly saying “LOOK AT HIS HEAD!” and encouraging me through.
Every time I entered the pitch black place in my head, I felt like an actual animal.
As I bore down and pushed with everything I had and more, a bit of relief burst through as his entire head plopped out and everyone was rooting and cheering and telling me HIS HEAD IS OUT, JUST ONE MORE BIG PUSH.
Julia pulled me out of my zone, “Natalie..Natalie, his head is out, reach down and pull him out and onto you.”
It took me a moment to regain hearing and I felt someone pulling my arms towards my baby to pull him out and on my chest at 11:41 pm. It was like I needed to come back into my body.
The weirdest sensation having his body wiggle-flop out of me.
I had always expected I would sob at this point.
I think I didn’t because I was in so much shock…and he was quiet.
I kept asking, “Why isn’t he crying? Baby, come on, cry, where are your lungs, please cry and make sound baby.”
We were rubbing him and eventually a small whimper escaped his little perfect mouth followed by his little lamb cry. Relief.
About 10 minutes later, Daddy cut the cord.
Post Delivery Deets
I was struggling to focus on my victorious VBAC because of the intense pressure down in my vaginal/anal area. Now I know it’s because of the hematoma I had internally…but hematoma pain is no joke. It is not common, and I wish it weren’t even possible. Four weeks later I can stand and even walk without wanting to cry. I went on my first neighborhood walk yesterday (two blocks lol).
My body had so many hormones / adrenaline rushing through me the first two hours after he was born, I was shaking intensely + my jaw was chattering. I was freezing cold even with multiple hot blankets on me.
I ended up with about 5 tears, three of them to the second degree and right next to my clitoris and urethra. Four weeks later, these tears still hurt when I sit a certain way.
I had no medication or even an IV site, so they tried numbing the area with local anesthesia before stitching me up…but like before, the numbing didn’t take. That sucked.
She was also nervous about stitching my urethra + clitoris, so had to insert a catheter to make sure she didn’t.
I loaded up with ice packs in my vagina + butthole, asked if I could have fentanyl now, LOL, they said no. I ended up needing another catheter because my pelvic bowl was so traumatized it wouldn’t relax to pee.
I did have to have the COVID nose test which lasted 30 seconds and sucked, but was over quickly.
The nurses said my placenta was the healthiest, most vibrant placenta they’ve seen and I sweeeaaar it’s because of Ningxia Red.
I’m super sad there aren’t any photos of me laboring nor really any of me directly after birth. Part of the losses of COVID-19.I had brought my DSLR camera but had no brain capacity to ask anyone to document me — plus there were no extra hands in my room.
Since the beginning of this pregnancy, I was told my chances of a repeat mal-positioning with baby would likely happen & it would be shocking if it didn’t — which isn’t accurate information.
Every appointment I was met with push back, constantly suggesting I change my mind about induction / scheduling a section.
I was told at 36 weeks this baby would be “too big” for my body — he wouldn’t fit thru my canal created to birth, which is an entire notion I have qualms with.
At my 38 week app, I was told by Dr B she wouldn’t ALLOW me to go past 41 weeks, which in & of itself is an unethical approach to medicine. This is my body.
At my 40 week app the doctor said it seemed as though I was more concerned about having a vaginal birth than ensuring my baby was ok — there were ZERO signs of distress. What kind of manipulation is that to lay into a mother?
I was also told at 40 weeks that because baby’s head was not engaged in my birthing canal, it meant his shoulders were too broad to fit and I could hurt him very badly trying to birth him vaginally. Did you know after your first birth, second/third/fourth/etc baby’s don’t engage UNTIL labor?
History shows when the healthy body & baby are given room to go into labor without medical induction, it will happen between weeks 38–42 gestation. My instinct was not to be medically induced until 42 weeks, unless of course baby showed signs of distress, but I was sure we’d go into labor before that.
With doctors at multiple MFM clinics, I sat & I listened to them tell me why I was making bad decisions for my body + my baby. When I asked why or for an explanation, I was met with generalized and false fear-based stats + suggestions to control this process.
Again: baby never in distress, which is important to note.
This body isn’t the medical field’s.
I am my sons mother.
I knew all along what we needed for a CHANCE to conquer a successful VBAC.
I am grateful I listened to myself, instead of allllll the voices telling me I was crazy, inadequate in knowledge, and selfish.
I trusted myself with my first birth, it still went traumatically haywire.
I knew this birth could also go haywire, but I also knew what I needed to do in order to have a chance at a VBAC (no meds, not even an IV site).
Mamas, there is no shame in any type of birth.
Thank you to everyone who has covered us in prayer! What a gift it was to experience a VBAC.
