It has been almost a whole month since my little one came to this world. All of the emotional turmoil has calmed down and I am able to reflect on how incredibly fortunate I am.

I need to start my recent birth story with my previous birth experience due to the enormity of complications we were facing throughout the whole pregnancy. In May of 2015 I was 40 weeks pregnant with baby boy. I was impatient to meet him even though my spouse support was slipping away, I was hoping for the best, counting on the enormous love I have felt for my soulmate for the previous 15 years...I continued to bravely tread forward. Due to my age (36 at the time), I was strongly recommended by my OB to get induced, however I have decided to proceed with induction due to the fact I had limited maternity leave, thus I thought it was the best not to wait for the baby to come on his own but to meet him as soon as possible. I had everything planned, my hospital delivery, my maternity leave, my at home recovery and the next 2 years of at-home childcare by the immediate family.

For my hospital delivery, my husband did not want to be in the room with me, but he was close by and I was OK with that. I had my friend with me who was also experienced doula. I was all set.

On the Sunday at midnight, my induced labor began. Everything progressed quickly; with the several hours with only one dose of misoprostol, I was advancing fast to 5,6,7 to 10 centimeters and my water broke. I and did not need to get a lot of oxytocin. Everything was going so fast that my pain level was enormous and honestly, I was not ready for it. I decided to get an epidural, but did not get much pain relief from it (later I have learned that my epidural failed completely). Labor continued and soon I was able to reach down and feel by baby’s head and was told that with only several pushes he will be out.

However that was not the case, my labor stalled and I nothing I tried produced any results. Things started to get worse and I developed severe fevers and chills (later I was told I had severe chorioamnionitis) and I had to have IV antibiotics. The longer I had fever/chills there was more chance my baby will get it too. I was told that most likely I will not be able to deliver my baby vaginally and papers to sign consent for C-section was thrown in front of my face. I really had a bad feeling about the surgery and I cried silently, wishing my husband was in the room with me holding my hand. (I was not sure what happened to him, he left I couldn’t reach him)

Unfortunately, my fears did come to the fruition, as surgery was difficult and complicated. I had to go under general anesthesia and had to have multiple hours of surgery. The baby was stuck in my pelvic area and my emergency C-section needed to be converted to Classical C-section (T-incission). That means that my uterus was not only cut horizontally but vertically, creating inverted T. Due to the vertical incision, uterine muscle will never be able to be strong enough to withstand labor contractions. I was told afterwards that I will never be able to have a labor again due to extremely high risk of uterine rupture. Furthermore, if the uterine rupture occurs, it is an immediate death sentence for my baby and likely death sentence for me if I don’t get the immediate health intervention. I was terrified!

The recovery from that wretched C-Section took a long time, many months and it didn't help that I had to return to work after only 8 weeks. Luckily, baby boy was adorable, my breastmilk was plentiful and he thrived. I had family help at home, I was mentally getting ready to return to work. Unfortunately, my husband was going in and out of focus, we fought bitterly and he continued to be unsupportive and unhelpful.

A whole year flew fast. We celebrated the first birthday of my adorable baby boy, and during that time my little family was doing relatively well; my husband was back to being my loving dear soul that I loved for the most part of my adult life, my baby was thriving and I got promoted at work. And then BAM, I got pregnant again. Unplanned and surprise so big that it took my breath away. I have immediately started the search for the specialist and OB that will follow me through my new pregnancy. I have reviewed medical and non-medical literature to make sure I am getting the best recommendation for my pregnancy. All of the literature and the doctor’s recommendations stated that I should not continue my pregnancy past 36 weeks to avoid going into labor and to avoid rupture. I was also aware that the last development stages occur in the last several weeks of pregnancy and I wanted to wait as long as possible to give this little soul the best possible start in life. I really loved this little baby from the minute I have known I was pregnant.

At my 2nd pregnancy announcement my husband lost it, he "slipped again" and went into his addiction craze, emptying our savings, emotionally and almost physically abusing me. He also started to pressure me to terminate the pregnancy, but I would have none of it! He only went to the single pregnancy follow up with me, 20 week ultrasound scan that he actually walked out after 5 minutes as “he felt this pregnancy has nothing to do with him and there is no point of him being there.”

My pregnancy continued non-eventfully and I did not have many issues other than horrible fear infusing every minute of my day and night. What if the labor starts early, what if I don’t get help fast enough? What if my little boy at home loses both mother and brother in the same day? Days moved forward and I slowly reached last trimester. I needed to schedule next C-section date. After a significant amount of soul-searching and after many discussions and objections from my my OB I have decided to wait past 38 weeks. I was afraid baby will be too small and there is a chance of going into the NICU if lungs were not mature enough if I did the surgery at 36 weeks.

At the same time, I grieved that I will never have a natural labor, never have a chance to push the baby with all of my strength into this life. Grieved that I will not have the natural recovery without the scars. I grieved because I will not have any more babies and because my husband’s abandonment and indifference was so tangible and ever-present.

Time relentlessly pushed forward and the day came, I worked until the day before and I checked into the hospital on the scheduled day. I made my non-supportive husband be in the operating room with me and then had my sister for recovery support. I was anxious and terrified. I had difficult time breathing and focusing on the baby being born. I hated the sterile feel of operating room, coldness and smallness of the operating bed (I had a feeling I will fall off how narrow it was). The trauma of the previous delivery was still replaying in the endless loop behind my eyes.

And then he came, he was cut out of me and placed in my arms. He was a force not afraid to scream his entry into our world. He screamed loudly and his skin was red and covered in vernix. He was a big boy, born at 38 weeks and 2 days, 22.5 inches, 8 lbs 15 oz. Our skin touched and I started breathlessly talking to him. He calmed to the sound of my voice, something my absent husband even noted. I apologized to him, hoping this little soul should will not suffer too much due to his father’s indifference. I prayed out loud to have a strength to be a father and a mother and everything else this little soul needs. The moment was prefect, the culmination of all of pain, fear, anxiety was infused in that moment of holding him and talking to him. He was perfect and I wanted to be perfect for him. Surgery was completed shortly after that and I was wheeled into the post-op room.

After the surgery, I was told that they had to repair my uterine muscle at the previous incision site as it was a miracle it didn’t come apart as it was barely holding together. My OB surgeon said that he never seen anything like it his 30+ years in practice. We made it to the other side, both alive and well! I have managed to get my self discharged from the hospital 24 hrs after my baby got delivered. I wanted to be home to start recovering from the surgery, I had my family at home to help me and I wanted to be home for my older boy.

I am not sure what the future will bring but I have enormous love for my little boys and I feel I could move the mountains for them. I am sad that their father is slowly detaching himself from this world and I am sad that there is nothing we can do for him (believe me, we have tried so much, nothing worked). I will keep silent and outloud prayers for my boys with hope life will treat them fairly, I will always be enough for them and they will not miss their father to much.

Thanks for reading our story

With love

Maria