Sunny Side Up

{ February 13, 2012 @ 10:26 pm } · { The Trauma(s) }
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While looking at my medical records, I have made important mental notes about terminology with which I wish to impart my knowledge of in an effort to understand the causes of my trauma, the nature of my trauma, and the results of my trauma.

My daughter presented as occiput posterior.  Commonly known as “sunny-side up,” this presentation of the baby is when the baby is face down but facing your front.  The baby’s back of the head, the occipital bone, is forced against the mother’s tailbone. You can read more here: http://www.babycenter.com/0_posterior-position_1454005.bc?page=1

Sunny-Side Up is not an ideal way to birth your child.  Unfortunately, the care I received during labor was not ideal either, thus compounding a sunny-side up situation.  My daughter was determined to be sunny-side up, yet I was still encouraged to push on for 3 hours, while she was in this position. Labor with a sunny-side up child is pure torture.  Instead of having some semblance or relief in-between contractions, it was actually worse between because that is where my daughter’s unrelenting head met my (now) relenting tailbone.  My hospital records indicate my doctor was out of the room during this time (in the rest area-according to my mother).  After 3 hours of the most painful pushing, the doctor tried to manually turn her by forcing both of her hands into me and twisting. (didn’t work).  Through the use of forceps, my daughter was then delivered.

The consolation…the doctor told me “you should add a pound for a sunny-side up baby, because that is what it feels like you just pushed out.”  So, does 8 pounds 14 ounces get to equal 9 pounds 14 ounces?  I don’t know if this was supposed to make me feel proud or angry at the fact that I should have OBVIOUSLY had a c-section.

Although there is nothing funny about sunny-side up positioning or traumatic childbirth, the following article from Jezebel has an excellent section about the sunny-side up experience in labor.  You can read it here: http://jezebel.com/5867731/natural-childbirth-the-best-thing-i-ever-failed-at?tag=mother-load. 

Thanks for reading,

Lauren

Story Toppers

{ February 8, 2012 @ 10:25 pm } · { The Incontinence Issue, The Treatments }
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About three times a week I attend a water aerobics class.  Because this class is during the day, I find the average age of the clientele in this class to be about 65.  (But, boy, these Grandmas can move!).  Because of the geriatric nature of my watery exercise regimen, I am often bombarded with the phrase “Oh, but you don’t have to worry about that, YET!” while engaged in a social discussion regarding “senior” medical matters prior to or post workout.

One of the favorite topics of discussion seems to be the colonoscopy.  Phrases and snippets addressed to me include: “So and so isn’t hear today, she’s preparing for her colonoscopy…you just wait till that…” “Ughh, I hate the prep work, you’re so lucky you’re young.”

Little do these ladies know, a colonoscopy is the least of my worries.  I think I could wow them all with the amount of enemas I have needed to do, the amount of “awake” rectal testing I’ve engaged in, and the fact that I lost my anal wink at age 27 due to the stress of childbirth.

But the story that tops them all, the story that makes a colonoscopy look like a trip to Disney World, is the defecography.  I never even knew a test like this existed.  To my great “delight” I had the necessary procedure when trying to determine the exact nature of my leaking sphincter. 

Step 1-Give yourself two enemas at home.

Step 2- Drink a glass of Barium (i.e. liquid sidewalk chalk) without promptly throwing it up

Step 3-Have a catheter placed to drain you of all urine

Step 4- Flip over, have a device that looks very similar to a caulk gun push a caulk like substance up your rectum

Step 5- Climb up a ladder onto a toilet bowl that is placed in the center of the room

Step 6-Try to relax while two people hold in place 2 x-ray plates around your body

Step 7-Poop out the substance (this is especially lovely with your audience)

Step 8- Enjoy the video recording of your bowel movement for years to come!

Top that, Grandma.  (Just kidding, I love Grandmas)  And, as unpleasant as this test was, it WAS necessary, helpful, and diagnostic.  It also gives me a story topper to whip out during my aqua aerobics class, but, maybe, I’ll just keep it to my blog.

Thanks for Reading,

Lauren

The “F” word(s)

{ February 7, 2012 @ 2:40 pm } · { The PTSD, The Trauma(s) }
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Two words you often hear in conjunction with PTSD are fight or flight.  These two “f” words are powerful indicators of the physiological response that one experiences while being triggered. For me, this response was caused by a myriad of triggers, and the involuntary response of fight or flight proved devastating each and every time.

Fight or Flight.  Your body’s response to adrenaline, your body’s response to a perceived “true” danger that is now physiologically circuited in your body system as if it were truly happening then and now.  Believe me when I say this, even if I wanted to “talk” myself out of this response, the involuntary nature of the body would not allow me to.  When you experience trauma, that trauma can be caught in your neural networks, creating a pathway of a fight or flight response whenever your body perceives, (a trigger), the trauma.

My fight or flight response generally consisted of an immediate panic attack, complete with screaming, and huddling to the floor in a fetal position.  The nature of my response included fight (the panic), flight (the dropping to the floor), and another “f” word I would like to introduce as “Freeze.”  The arrest of all “sensible” activity whilst being triggered caused the “freeze” component of my life.  The inability to do more at that time, the inability to pull out of it, the inability to move forward.

Other “F” words I can associate with PTSD….frustrating, friendless, f***Kd

Thanks for Reading,

Lauren

6 months

{ February 6, 2012 @ 1:21 pm } · { Interstim, The Treatments }
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As of this past weekend, I have had my Interstim implant in for 6 months!  It is amazing how my life has been completely turned around for the last half a year.

The decision to have the implant was really a no-brainer.  I had exhausted the other “non-surgical” routes with little success.  The non-surgical routes of exercise, diet, and physical therapy are all components that serve to strengthen my Interstim now, but did little to appease the nerve function that I lacked prior to the implant.

Just for reference, the surgical route prior to Interstim was a scary prospect.  Before Interstim, my choice was to have my sphincter cut, then sewn back together tighter….repeat surgery every 5 years.  The prognosis of a successful surgery was limited, and there was a very real chance that more harm could be done.

With the sphincter cutting surgery as my only option, you can imagine my relief when my rectal surgeon recommended Interstim.  The surgery itself is low risk, and the prognosis of success is pretty high.  There was no hesitation for me to embark on this journey 6 months ago, and I cannot wait to see where it leads me!

Thanks for Reading,

Lauren

 

Hemorrhage

{ February 2, 2012 @ 3:20 pm } · { The PTSD, The Trauma(s) }
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One of the major traumas that I endured during the birth of my child was postpartum hemorrhage.  You can read all about it here: http://emedicine.medscape.com/article/796785-overview#a0101.

To the average reader, postpartum hemorrhage is when you bleed after delivery.  In my case, after I delivered my child, she was quickly whisked away to be suctioned by NICU nurses (she had swallowed meconium) As I struggled on the table to glimpse my new baby, I began to feel completely drained.  This was the beginning of the postpartum hemorrhage.  My body just wouldn’t stop bleeding.

I feel the need to be totally honest in my posts, and, if I lose some of my readers here…I apologize. At this point of my trauma, I left my body.  Whether you believe in this phenomenon or not, I truly believe that this happened.  From my out-of-body vantage point, I saw things I couldn’t have possibly seen while laying there bleeding.  I felt calm, relaxed, and at peace-even though I saw my ravaged body lying on the table, heard the nurses shouting “she’s bleeding!, and watched the frantic scurrying of the medical personnel at my bedside.  From my out-of-body location, I could actually see my child, while holding my husband’s hand, and looking down at her. (This all “occurred” while I was bleeding on the delivery table)

The thing that “snapped” me back in was the administration of medication rectally.  I found myself lying there broken on the table.  No more bleeding, but severely weakened.

I’m not asking you to judge my experience.  I just find it amazing that the body seeks to protect, even in the most challenging times.  Had I not “gone outside myself” the fear that I would have experienced at that point could have been overwhelming.  I am grateful that my body knew what to do.

Thanks for reading,

Lauren

“Even More Amazing”

{ February 1, 2012 @ 2:29 pm } · { My Birth Position, The Purpose }
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Becoming passionate about something allows one’s focus to be all-encompassing.  As I was looking at my yahoo page this morning, a story about a “14 pound baby born” scrolled across my news feed.  My first thought was, “ouch.”  My second thought was “the only reason this is news is if this baby was born vaginally.”  So, I decided to watch the video segment promoting the headline “14 pound baby born”

This segment was part of Good Morning America’s morning show and had the male reporter all excited about the “turkey” sized child that had been birthed “naturally.”  Watching the video, one can only cringe at the reporter’s claim of “even more amazingly, Kendall (the mother) did it all naturally, no c-section, no epidural.”  This statement, by the reporter, allows for the thought that a 14 pound baby birthed by c-section or with the help of pain medication would be anything less than amazing.  To me, that’s just not right.  A 14 pound baby in its own right is amazingly big, enough said, no matter how he makes his entrance. 

The saving grace of this video segment is actually the mother.  She talks about women being able to research the way they want to give birth, and she DOES NOT dispel the notion that c-section is right for some.  She believes that all should have the choice.  Go MOM!

So, Kudos to Kendall for pushing out that beautiful baby boy, however, kudos to all mothers who are educated about their choices for childbirth and pre and post natal care!

To see the video segment in its entirety, view here : http://gma.yahoo.com/video/parenting-26594265/woman-delivers-nearly-14-pound-baby-28105614.html

Thanks for Reading,

Lauren

The Business of Being Born

{ January 30, 2012 @ 10:51 pm } · { My Birth Position, The PTSD, The Purpose, The Trauma(s) }
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So, for a long while, people have been urging me to, and asking me if, I have watched the movie “The Business of Being Born.”  You know, the one with Ricki Lake, where she goes on her crusade for a “natural” birth.  Truth be told, this movie has been sitting in my Netflix queue for a LONG time.  I think I have always wanted to see it, however, the triggers that it may have held prevented me from pressing play, until now.

Last night, I watched it.  It was terrifyingly one-sided.  Much as I expected it to be.

As an aside, it is important to note, that my personal crusade is not for c-sections, it’s not for non-instrumental birth, it IS for women’s choice, consent, education, and the ability to have all options recognized and respected in the birth realm. 

“The Business of Being Born” paints a picture of women who choose the route of c-sections as being weak.  At one point a statistic was recited about c-sections in new york and the woman interviewed’s response summarily said, “that’s so high, I thought New York women were stronger than that.”  Ahem, stronger than what?  Making an educated decision for yourself IS strong.  Deciding what you want to do with your body IS strong.  This IS feminism people, women’s choice!  I am not degrading or demoralizing natural birth.  Because that is YOUR choice.  Get it, it’s choice that should be the issue.

Another huge scare tactic they put in the movie is the fact that women will not be able to achieve the natural oxytocin high that comes with pushing a baby out of your vagina without drugs.  This in turn will cause the ability to bond with the child to be difficult if not, non-existent. (Their words, not mine.)

Well, I have to tell you.  Had I given birth to my baby without drugs or intervention in an effort to achieve this natural high they are raving about, I would most likely be dead.  And, probably the baby too.  How natural is that?

We need to stop being so one-sided on issues giving women the choice.  I wish this movie presented the facts about natural birth and the natural act of cesarean birth in a more positive choice promoting manner.  Throughout the movie, the producers are touting the fear based agenda that the medical community and the community of women buy into about not wanting a natural birth.  However, this movie could serve to instill a fear base in viewers regarding cesarean section.  Is that any better?  Creating a flip-side fear community?  I would love to see a movie that presents all aspects of birth impartially, because there are many women who need to know the facts, not just someone’s agenda. 

Thanks for Reading,

Lauren

I’m OK too

{ January 27, 2012 @ 11:50 pm } · { Interstim, The PTSD, The Purpose, The Trauma(s) }
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Recently, I commented on a blog that also explores the very real diagnosis of PTSD after childbirth as well as the issue of birth trauma.  The post that I commented on, “Thank God the Baby is ok!” can be read in its entirety here. http://www.tobreatheagainbook.com/2011/12/thank-god-baby-is-ok.html#comment-form

I tend to agree with this posting.  So many times while relating my story to others, (family, friends, and medical professionals), I hear the phrase “At least the Baby’s OK.”  Whether it is in those exact words or some other phrasing with the same meaning, I inwardly cringe.  I know this is a well-meaning statement.  I know the people saying it to me are trying to show they care.  I know that there is a thrust in our society to look for the best of the situation.  However, I have to agree with Kerissa from “To Breathe Again” (see link above) when she states “Baby’s matter. A lot. But mom’s matter, too.”

Knowing my baby was ok and is ok does matter.  In fact, as a mom ,it was really important to me that she was ok.  In fact, I hoped that she was more than ok.  I hoped that she was healthy, beautiful, smart, joyous, etc.  All those hopes that mom’s have for their kids.

To best explain why the statement “At least the Baby’s OK” rubs me the wrong way, it is important for you to understand my perspective of that day.  The day of my daughter’s birth. The day of my trauma. It was the most wonderful day and the most horrifying day simultaneously.  I separate those two events, even though they happened at the same time.  If I am relaying to you my story, I am telling you my trial, my horror, my hell.  I am not connecting that trauma to the wonderful person that entered this world and blesses our lives daily.

I appreciate all of the support for my journey.  Yes, my daughter is ok, she’s more than ok.  And guess what?  Through hard work, therapy, some totally awesome medical interventions,  and lots of tears, I’m ok too.

Thanks for reading,

Lauren

Too Personal

{ January 26, 2012 @ 10:10 pm } · { The Incontinence Issue, The PTSD, The Purpose, The Trauma(s) }
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I’ve been told by some people that they won’t read my blog because it is “too personal.”  Yes, vaginas, sexuality, rectal scarring, anal winks, pooping, mental illness, yes, it’s personal.  But sometimes, it is easy to confuse “too personal” with shameful, dirty, and stigmatized.

I write my blog to free myself of the stigma that surrounds my circumstances.  It’s not easy to be suffering with issues that no wants to talk about, read about, hear about, listen to, etc.  To date, there are many medical issues that have reached the acclaim in our society that make them easy to talk about, empathize with, and join together for a common cause.  However, I am sure that there were people that needed to champion those causes and efforts prior to them becoming easy to talk about over a cup of tea.

I believe that I am one of a growing number of women who are no longer going to be silent.  Medical interventions, successful therapies, and political awareness only come about when there is a movement to have our voices heard.  Birth Trauma and the physical and mental devastation it can leave in its wake is an issue that I am not ready to concede is “too personal.” 

Thanks for reading,

Lauren

The Crap He Puts Up With

{ January 26, 2012 @ 2:53 pm } · { The Incontinence Issue, The PTSD, The Trauma(s) }
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This post is dedicated to my husband….and the crap he puts up with.  Figuratively….and Literally. 

While engaged in full-blown PTSD, my husband was always there, fully supportive of the shell of my former self that I had become.  Immediately after the birth of our child, but prior to any real diagnosis, my husband recognized that I needed help, support, and unconditional love.  And, he gave me all these things without question.  My husband did ALL of the housework, ALL of our life maintenance (bills, shopping, answering phone calls, making appointments, filling our cars with gas, driving, etc), and most of the childcare.  Yes, I fed our child, however, my husband changed her, brought her to me when she needed to be fed, helped me play with her, attended to her in the night when she was crying, etc.

A typical day for me during full-blown PTSD looked like this:  My husband waking two hours before me to work on the house, grocery shop, or do bills.  My husband waking me up gently (alarms were a trigger for me), my husband handing me the baby to be fed, my husband burping and changing the baby, my husband urging me to shower, my husband ironing and washing my clothes, my husband making my breakfast, my husband getting the baby ready for daycare, my husband handing me my ready-made lunch and placing my work stuff into the car (which he always made sure had gas), my husband driving my daughter to daycare (even though it was right across the street from where I worked-leaving her was a trigger) before he brought himself to work, me going to work in a haze, me leaving work, me picking up my daughter, coming home and feeding my daughter, me sitting in a comfortable chair with her until my husband came home from work, my husband making dinner, playing together as a family, my husband helping me with bedtime routine, me sitting in my chair, my husband cleaning up the house, both going to bed, my husband helping me through nightmares, twitches, and teeth grinding while simultaneously attending to the baby in the other room. REPEAT DAILY.

That’s a lot of figurative crap to put up with.  Not to mention the literal.  Fecal Incontinence is not pretty, and yes, there is a lot of literal crap.  Was I doing the laundry?  Was I emptying the trash filled with used incontinence pads?  Was I purchasing the pads, enemas, and fiber supplements? No, it was my husband.

Now, I would never claim my husband is a saint, but, I know he’s a better person than most to be able to navigate the trials of PTSD and fecal incontinence with grace and courage.   It is my hope that everyone could have someone just as wonderful to help them through their own trauma, however; the reality is some marriages cannot sustain the angst that sickness and trauma thrust upon the parties involved. Our marriage has survived and strengthened through this major medical trauma in my life, and I am truly grateful that my husband was able to remain by my side holding not only my hand, but my heart throughout the duration.

Thanks for Reading,

Lauren

 

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