When Small Boy was born, I went into labor at 6:30 in the morning. I wasn't fully dilated until 2:30 a.m. or so, and that's when I started pushing.
I pushed hard. I pushed really hard. I wanted Small Boy to be born. I wanted to stop laboring. I pushed really hard for more than 2.5 hours. I'm in mediocre shape at best, and by the end I was so tired I could barely breathe, but I knew I couldn't stop. After 2.5 hours Small Boy had progressed downwards not at all. My cervix was good and swollen, but the situation was otherwise unchanged.
Then Small Boy (who had been a trooper the whole time) started having some decels, and the OB called a c-section for fetal distress and failure to descend. He had been monitoring me remotely; when he burst into the room and was like "lady, you are done here" I burst into tears.
I had rather wanted an unmedicated birth. I had badly wanted a vaginal birth. But when I burst into tears, I wasn't upset because I wasn't going to get the birth I wanted. I cried because I was so relieved and grateful. I knew that I could not keep going much longer. I was just too tired.
We later found out that Small Boy's head was severely impacted in my pelvis, and that there was no way he was exiting in any direction other than out of my abdomen. I could have pushed for hours more, I could have been twice as strong and determined, and nothing would have changed.
I'm too tired. I'm putting this down for six months. My plan for spacing my kids is scuppered. My plan for giving birth to both kids before 40 is scuppered. I'm never doing a fresh cycle again. The embryos aren't getting any older. I need to stop for a while. My family needs me to stop for a while. I need to let this white whale go, for a time, at least. Maybe I'll return to it and maybe I won't.
Maybe I'll learn that I can live with this, and that the pain of the missing person grows less over time. Maybe it'll get worse.
In any case: right now, I am putting this down. In six months I'll see where I am.
I love you and I admire your strength.
ReplyDeleteThanks, hon. Sometimes it feels like strength and sometimes it feels like giving up, and sometimes it feels like giving up takes strength, and sometimes it just feels like defeat. I'm going to see where it evolves.
DeleteThis sounds like a really tough decision, but it makes a lot of sense. The whole TTC process is so intense and draining. I hope the time off gives you some time to recover and some space to figure out what comes next. Thinking of you guys.
ReplyDeleteYeah, I feel like the only thing I know for sure right now is that I need a break. I'm so tired of this.
DeleteThinking good thoughts for you too -- I'm so glad Sprout is here safely, even if she was a bit early! The early weeks are tough times, but I hope with the benefit of hindsight it's a bit easier to remember that this stage passes. Of course, knowing it and feeling it are different.