Sybil's Birth Story

I'm dusting off the ol' blog to write about my second born's birth.

Because who doesn't love a good birth story? They're the female equivalent of war stories, complete with gory battle scars.

Plus, Errol got a substantial entry for his birth - can't have Sybil feeling left out.

Now, something you need to know about Sybil's birth story is Errol's birth story. Here's the long version: link. The short version is that that kid. wrecked. me. up.

Pushed for 3.5 hours; shoulder dystocia (baby stuck in birth canal); vacuum; code blue; third degree tears; 9 lbs 14 oz, 21.5 inch baby Errol.

But he was worth it.

And thank heavens for an epidural.

I had a new OB-GYN with Sybil because we'd moved since having Errol. Once my doctor had confirmed that my shoulder dystocia was legit and not just someone at the Calgary hospital being overly dramatic with their charting, she emphatically offered me a C-section.

Apparently, if you've had a shoulder dystocia delivery once, you very likely could have it again. Turns out these childbearing hips I've been toting around my whole post-pubescent life are worthless.

I was hesitant because I'd heard recovery with a C-section was a lot worse than with a vaginal delivery - and, you know, the usual negative feelings associated with someone slicing open your stomach.

But then I really looked at the possible negative side effects with shoulder dystocia. 

We got really lucky with Errol. He was virtually unscathed, save a bruised head from the vacuum. But it can be a lot worse.

I think all the medical staff involved in Errol's birth kind of downplayed the risks of shoulder dystocia because it had already happened - out of the woods. Why torture the poor woman who has just had a healthy behemoth baby forcefully sucked out of her nethers.

Broken arms/clavicles I knew were a possibility, but I didn't realize that that could result in permanent nerve damage. Brain damage is even a possibility if the cord were to get stuck. That was something I was absolutely not going to risk.

Recovery and gutting be darned.

C-section was the safest way to go for Sybil, and ultimately for me. I can't imagine trying to deliver vaginally, expending all that effort, only to have to have a C-section in the end; especially if Sybil had come so far that they needed to push her back up to be able to perform the C-section. Shudder.

Perish the thought!

Now having had the C-section, hot dang! That's the way to go! 

C-sections have my endorsement.

C-sections all the way!

Votes for C-sections, step in time!

I'm a neurotic control freak; so to have an actual it's-happening-for-reals date ticked off on the calendar was a thing of beauty. No fretting about when or where you're going to go into labor. No panicked drive to the hospital. No contractions!

And I was able to be completely prepared, which included being well-groomed.

With Errol's birth, I'd neglected to shave my legs until it was too late. I will forever remember having gross, prickly legs added to the list of delivery discomforts.

Sybil's C-section date was September 20th. So on the 19th we went in for a pre-op appointment. It was a brief check-up to make sure everything was good to go and to answer any questions we had. It was nice to find out exactly what to do and where to go; for Errol's birth, we had to search for the labor and delivery, me waddling along leaving a trail of amniotic fluid behind me.

Sleep didn't come very easily that night for me - which wasn't much different than usual during the third trimester.

I wasn't dreading the surgery or fearing for my life or anything, but obviously there is some level of anxiety with any procedure like this. And immediately after said procedure I'd have a new baby, which is one of the best ways I can think of to completely obliterate the comfortable inertia of the life you once knew.

My mom came over during the night to watch Errol. We had to leave insanely early, 5:30 or some such nonsense because the surgery was scheduled for 7:30 and we had to drive to Lethbridge and check in an hour or so early.

It was a strange feeling to be calmly walking into the hospital, no contractions, no broken water; just, here I am. Get a baby out of me now, s'il vous plait.

When we got to labor and delivery, we changed into our surgery gear, went to our waiting area, and I got an IV.

Then we played the waiting game.

I had a bed and Eric had a chair that did a funky maneuver to become bed-like. We ended up having to wait longer than anticipated because they'd had an emergency C-section occur. This wasn't the worst thing because the added nap time was welcome after a poor sleep.

And there was a couple on the other side of our room's screen partition that was scheduled for the C-section slot after ours; so they had to wait even longer.

We were finally ready to go into the operating room sometime around 9:00 am. One could certainly view the O.R. room as intimidating. It was quite sizable, obviously very sterile, with menacing looking instruments.

They sat me down on the operating table, introduced the operating team and gave Eric and me a brief rundown. The first step was the spinal anesthetic. The anesthesiologist was the sweetest man.

My OB-GYN seems to have a similar personality to mine, at least in this setting - all business, somewhat stoic.

So while I totally relate to my OB-GYN, it was lovely to have the anesthesiologist there to just be gushing over me with caring attentiveness.

Besides, my OB-GYN was to be occupied extracting my baby from me - not a lot of time to be assuaging.

They had me sit, leaning over, squeezing a pillow, to receive the spinal injection. This wasn't especially daunting - I'd had an epidural with Errol, and I don't think that there are a lot of differences between the two; I believe C-section spinal anesthesia is just stronger. Slight needle prick - not that big of a deal.

After that, it was crazy how fast it all went. That operating team was movin'!

They splayed me out on the operating table - arms awkwardly spread out in a 'T' formation. My hospital gown was pulled up above my stomach and the partition was put up just below my chest. I can imagine this aspect would be excruciating for some because my whole completely frozen lower half was front and center.

Literally, middle of the room, spotlights shining.

But I have no shame in such circumstances. It's a medical staff, this is their job, they see this everyday. No reason to be embarrassed.

Besides, I had freshly shaved legs this time.

They did a thorough scrubbing with iodine, which at that point I could barely feel - the anesthetic took effect so quickly.  They'd put a blanket on my upper half because anesthesia can make you cold and give you the shakes.

The sweet anesthesiologist noticed I was getting shivery and got me another blanket.

He stayed up by my head the whole time. I imagine it was to monitor the anesthetic, but he also soothed and explained every minute step of the procedure. If you can request an anesthesiologist for an operation, I will be requesting him for the assumed next C-section.

One of the nurses asked me if I could feel something she'd done on my stomach. I responded with a confused, "Huh?".

The anesthesiologist laughed and said, "Good answer".

So they went to work. I could feel pressure on my stomach which kind of felt like pulling. It didn't feel like much. So when the anesthesiologist said, "Oh, there's the head"...

I was shocked they were already getting her head out.

Immediately after that she was pulled out and we had our Sybil Jane! Born 9:19 am, September 20th, 2018, 8 lbs 1 oz, 20 inches.

Just that easy.

No contractions, no pushing, no straining, no pain. I can't get over how I put zero energy or effort into having to get my baby out of me. It was a dream.

After pushing for 3.5 hours with Errol, I felt like I had run a marathon. I was so exhausted and everything hurt.

This time, the only thing that felt at all strained was my jaw from trying to withstand the shakes I was getting from the anesthetic.

Once Sybil was out, the nurses calmly took her over to the weighing station where they sucked out mucus, weighed her, measured her, and wrapped her up. It was all so calm and laid back. With Errol, it was a chaotic scene when he was delivered.

There had to be 20 people in my tiny delivering room. High drama.

Then they brought Sybil to me and I awkwardly held her on the operating table.

You know that face women always seem to make when you see birth photography or when actresses are portraying birth? Sort of a breaking down with utter elation?

Yeah, I don't make that face. Eric and I have joked about how to the medical staff it must have looked like we weren't excited or loving at all, just the most blase attitudes.

Just another day at the office. 

It's a magical moment and all, but I'm surrounded by people I don't know, I'm in an awkward position to be holding a baby, and said baby has just exited me and is puffy and covered in goo...

Plus, I'm not a great sharer, especially even when it comes to feelings.

My magic moment comes when everyone is gone, and it's just me and my new baby. We're all cleaned up and settled in comfortably, and I can hold my baby, unobserved, and soak in everything about them.

While I awkwardly held Sybil, they stitched me up, which included cauterization - that's a fun experience to smell your own flesh burning.

While they were finishing that up, Eric and Sybil went to the recovery room just outside of the operating room, where I joined them shortly after.

My shakes had not subsided. One of the nurses noticed and asked if I wanted something to deal with that. Bless her. I also had some pretty sweet pain meds that made me feel buzzed and dozy for a good part of the day.

We hung out in the recovery room for a little while to be monitored. Sybil was doing a lot of loud purring, which is common with a C-section baby because they don't get the lung goo squeezed out of them like in vaginal birth, so they have to work it out themselves.

Other than that, we were all good. Sybil latched like a champ. Eating and gaining weight is not something my babies have ever had an issue with.

They eventually wheeled us over to the maternity ward and our room. I liked being wheeled around in a bed. Made me feel very grand and highfalutin.

We were initially put in a room with other people. No bueno.

Luckily, it was very temporary; they just needed to prepare our private room. Si.

Eric stuck around for a bit and then left to get back to Errol. Then it was just Sybbie and me, chilling in our private room in the hospital. It honestly was like a nice little vacation for me.

Not being pregnant anymore is such a treat. It was sublime to not have my hips hurt anymore - they had hurt so bad in the third trimester. And the nurses kept on top of my pain meds and took great care of me. Plus, I had an adorable little Sybbie to cuddle.

She's always been such a good baby.

Happy, eats well, sleeps well. It was such a drastic difference from poor acid reflux baby Errol. And having the confidence and know-how that comes from already having had a baby is everything.

I was under the impression that pretty much anything and everything was going to kill Errol.

I was so much more relaxed with Sybil. I could just soak it all in and enjoy it.

I had a voracious appetite, which I was not expecting at all after the surgery.

So I ate a ton, slept a ton, and watched movies on my tablet, all while cuddling my cute baby. It was great.

I healed exceptionally well. I never felt like I was in much pain, which was definitely different from recovery after Errol's birth.

My sister came the first night to help out, which was awesome because she is a nurse and knew the drill completely, and then my mom came the second night - you are both all-stars! I appreciated it so much. So much better being close to family this time.

The surgery was on Thursday and we were able to leave by Saturday. And after that, there were really no issues. I felt way worse recovering from Errol's birth than from a C-section. I'll take being stitched up in the stomach over stitched up in the crotch any day.

(Representation of what it was like to walk around after a third degree tear)

And C-section scar? What C-section scar? As if you could pick it out among my numerous stretch marks.

Perhaps the worst thing during recovery was the absence of BMs for a worrying time, especially with the aforementioned voracious appetite. But...

And eventually my innards got themselves movin' again.

Errol has been such a champ throughout these big life changes. The poor little guy was sick when Sybbie was born. We'd initially wanted to have him come visit in the hospital, but the cold put a damper on that. We found out later on that it was actually an ear infection. He's so dang tough and happy that we didn't even realize it was anything more than a cold.

Then 3 weeks after Sybil was born, he jumped off the bathroom counter and broke his heel bone and had to get a cast! My poor first baby!

But then subsequent x-rays made it look like the heel wasn't broken so the cast came off, only to find from later x-rays that it actually had been broken the whole time.

It was quite the time. But Errol has just remained the best little trooper.

His interest in Sybil has waxed and waned. Ambivalence is usually the order of the day. But gosh darn it, they're going to be inseparable one day, so help me.

Overall, my experience with a C-section was, clearly, so much more preferred. And, although the change from one child to two has obviously had its challenges, I think I'll always find the change from not parents to parents to be the most earth-shatteringly difficult. But regardless of how they got here, I'm just thankful they are healthy and two of the most stupendous and magnificent humans in existence. They complete me.

I'd lost my swaddling skills, and she was not cooperating. So she's looking a little lumpy here.

And some more recent pictures. 20 weeks old and 18 pounds. Cutest little chunk. She just cut her first tooth, and she's such a sweetheart that I didn't even realize there was a tooth coming until the day before it cut. Love her!

Life is good.