Business of Being Born - Part 1

Last night I finally had a chance to see The Business of Being Born. I think I cried through at least 40% of it. Not tears of sadness, per se. Tears of release perhaps. Rather cathartic. Obviously, I'm still dealing with my previous birth with Xaelen. Don't get me wrong - I have a healthy, happy, amazing toddler out of all this. But it was everything that I had wished would never happen to me. Intervention after intervention.

I guess today, I really wanted to talk about something I don't usually talk about. I wanted to address the intervention that actually happened back in 1990 or perhaps it was 1991. The actual dates are lost on me now. I realize that my road to a c-section did not begin on May 5th when I went in to labor. My road to a c-section started when I was 16 or 17 years old.

I lost my virginity right before 11th grade started. I was in love, or I guess what was possible to be love at so young an age. I had sex. The only fear plaguing my mind at the time was the prospect of getting pregnant - god forbid. There was no pregnancy, so I breathed a sigh of relief and went on with my young and naive little life. I visited a gynecologist sometime that year. Routine pap. Nothing fancy. My first pap spear, and wouldn't you know it - it came back abnormal. 1 punch biopsy later (you really don't want to know how painful that was), I was determined to have HPV which leads to cervical cancer if not treated. I had cervical dysplasia. This was way more than I could really even deal with at this age. I was told the only way to treat this and come out healthy on the other end was to have cryotherapy (again, you really don't want to know how painful this was either). I did what I was told to do. It was painfully, emotionally and physically. It made me feel broken. What's worse, my boyfriend at the time seemed to claim no responsibility. In fact, he questioned whether it was even from him that this was derived. Sad. He was the only one, and would remain that way for years to come.

Over the years I had routine paps done. In the beginning it was twice a year. Then just once a year. Clean, every one of them. Over a decade of normal paps. I was in the clear. It never occurred to me that this situation would rear it's head again.

But it did. On May 5th, I went in to labor with Xaelen. For those who don't know my birth story, I never dilated. When checking my cervix, nurses couldn't even tell if I was 10 cms dilated or 0. That's common with a scarred cervix. My cervix is scarred. My brokenness wailed down upon me again. They tried Pitocin, which required an Epidural, which led to distress, which led to this, which led to that, which led to a long corridor leading to an operating room where Xaelen was removed from me. I didn't birth him. I had surgery to remove something from my uterus which happened to be my son. Sad.

The more research I've done, the more I've come to realize that my c-section might be a direct result of that chain of events back in 1990. With this next baby, I might be fighting an unwinnable battle to birth him naturally. I don't know, and no one else seems to know for sure either. We can only try and see what happens.

The reason I bring all this up, is that The Business of Being Born addresses what's flawed in American hospitals when it comes to birth. That avoiding unnecessary intervention can be achieved more likely through homebirths, midwives, birthing centers, etc. I can't take that risk. I may never dilate on my own. I may rupture. Anything can happen. So I'm left with birthing at the hospital and hoping beyond hope that I can do this.