I might as well call this portion "the epidural." But let me back up...
It took me six weeks before I could sit down comfortably after I had Ellie. Some days, I would go entire days without sitting at all. Other days, I'd plan the times I'd need to sit down that day. Did I have a lunch date? Did I want to watch America's Next Top Model with my husband? I tried to sit no more than two hours per day, better if it were broken up. The upside was that with all that breastfeeding in bed--on my side--I got a lot of reading done, a relief after months and months of pregnancy brain.
As you may know, the reason my recovery was so difficult was because I had a forceps delivery, which required a large, painful "extended episiotomy," which is a special incision used to accommodate the forceps. I also had a pretty serious tear, which they were afraid would affect my ability to go to the bathroom on my own (I only found this out later, thank God). It didn't.
Now let me back up even further...
I was induced and I had an epidural. Both are said to increase the
chances of a forceps delivery and c-section. At every stage, I discussed the possibility of these outcomes with my doctor, and at every stage he reassured me (rightly so, I believe). Just before the pushing stage, I asked both the doctor and the midwife if I should let the epidural wear off so that I could feel myself pushing. I had a mobile epidural, which is a weaker form than the old spinal blocks, and they both emphatically said no. The doctor said that while it was my decision, if I chose to let the epidural wear off now I'd be in a tremendous amount of pain, and that if I choose to top it up again he could teach me how to push. I agreed.
Here is how he taught me how to push: He held onto my arm, looked me in the eyes and said, in his very proper English accent, "I want you to push like you're going to crap the bed."
It wasn't bad. I could still feel the contractions, though they weren't painful, and since I could remember how to, well, take a crap, I pushed with all my might. I couldn't tell if I was making any progress, but all three (the doctor, midwife, and Yan) assured me that I was doing very well. Yan told me later that he could see the results as I was pushing.
About 20 minutes into pushing, my doctor said, "You're pushing really well but the baby keeps sliding back up, so I'll need to hold on to her while you push." They told Yan to put on a pair of scrubs and wheeled me into the operating theater, where they gave me a full spinal block, performed the incision, inserted the forceps, and, three pushes later, Ellie was born.
I was feeling pretty proud of myself after the birth--Yan told me I pushed really well and everybody kept saying how great it was that I didn't have a c-section (we had come very close to it, and at one point I thought I might prefer it) and the midwife said that now that I'd delivered an 8-pound baby vaginally any future births would be really smooth. It wasn't until a few days after the birth when I started experiencing a lot of pain that I started second guessing myself. Had I done something to cause all this pain? Could it have been avoided? Would a c-section have been preferable after all?
A health visitor who came to the house to check on the progress of the baby and me (standard practice in England) took a look at my discharge paperwork and said, "Ah. You had lift-out forceps. That's because of the epidural."
When I took the baby in to my old job, when I told one of the women I work with that I'd had a forceps delivery, she said, "Oh, because of the epidural?"
I started to panic a little. Could I have avoided all this pain if I hadn't had the epidural? Hadn't been induced?
After weeks of Googling and reading and reliving the experience, I finally got up the nerve to ask my doctor at our last visit, my six-week postnatal check. Timidly I asked, "Is there anything I could have done to avoid the forceps? Was it the epidural?"
He put down his prescription pad (was writing me a prescription for the Pill), looked at me intently and said, "Sweetie. Nobody could have pushed better than you. You did an amazing job."
And just like that, I was cured. I could even sit again! It's funny how we beat ourselves up over the birth of our children. Funny, how all along, I'd said that if I needed a c-section in the end, I'd be totally fine with it, so long as Ellie was delivered safely. But after more than 12 hours of labor when my doctor said it may go in that direction, I burst into tears. I still wish I had been able to deliver my baby without the use of forceps, but you know what? In the end, it just doesn't matter.
.
Postscript: I don't mean to scare you preggos out there--for one thing, I had a forceps birth, which is not that common, and for another, I am much, much better than I was. So much better. In fact, when I saw my doctor he said, "Last time I saw you, you were limping. This time you bounded up the stairs." (Actually, I was happy to see him. I love that man.)
Aside: Just so you know it's not that kind of love, here is a picture of he and Ellie:
He has a granddaughter who is seven weeks older than Ellie. Now that that's cleared up. Ahem.
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