And So The Lion Fed The Lamb To The Wolves

My husband and I had trouble staying pregnant. I've lost seven babies in the first trimester. So we had quite a bit of time to read up on birth and what happens and instinctively I wanted to have a home birth.

Of course everyone thought I was crazy and feared me. You know 'fear?'

"What if the baby is too big?! You'll both die."
"Won't that hurt?! You'll need drugs!"
"Who will catch the baby?!"
"Who will clean up?!"
"Who will make sure you're not bleeding to death?!"
"What if the baby stops breathing?!"

I could go on and on. But the worst was when it was pointed out to me that I was born via section. And I argued it. We know so much more now.

But I compromised.

I went and found a practice of Midwives that practice in a hospital. They offer hospital birth. I thought, best of both worlds right?

After our third miscarriage, I went to one of the midwives and sobbed 'why?!' I wanted to know what was happening, why this was happening to me, what I could do to stop it.

Her responce: "You should look into gastric bypass. You have PCOS, you should loose weight."

Now, I do not have PCOS. I am fat. I own it. I'm never going to be a size 4. Fuck, I'd be happy to be a ten. But you know what? I'm not. And that's okay. What's not okay is looking at me and making a decision based on my ass.

Symptoms of PCOS (via WebMD)

• Acne.
• Weight gain and trouble losing weight.
• Extra hair on the face and body. Often women get thicker and darker facial hair and more hair on the chest, belly, and back.
• Thinning hair on the scalp.
• Irregular periods. Often women with PCOS have fewer than nine periods a year. Some women have no periods. Others have very heavy bleeding.
• Fertility problems. Many women who have PCOS have trouble getting pregnant (infertility).
• Depression.

Most women with PCOS grow many small cysts on their ovaries. That is why it is called polycystic ovary syndrome. The cysts are not harmful but lead to hormone imbalances.

Now, lets look at this. I'm fat. I do not have trouble loosing weight. I don't have extra hair. I have hair that Angelina Jolie would kill for.  I had regular periods. I miscarried. I did NOT have trouble getting pregnant. Who the fuck isn't depressed.

Right, so this 'midwife' right off the bat says 'your fat, that's your problem.'

What she should of done was looked at my history and said 'wait a second, she might have ciliac.' It turns out that I have a gluten intolerance.

Symptoms of gluten intolerance:

• Abdominal pain
• Abdominal distention, bloating, gas, indigestion
• Constipation
• Decreased appetite (may also be increased or unchanged)
• Diarrhea, chronic or occasional
• Lactose intolerance (common upon diagnosis, usually goes away following treatment)
• Nausea and vomiting
• Stools that float, are foul smelling, bloody, or “fatty”
• Unexplained weight loss (although people can be overweight or of normal weight upon diagnosis)

A partial listing of nonintestinal symptoms:

• Anemia (low blood count)
• Bone and joint pain
• Bone disease (osteoporosis, kyphoscoliosis, fracture)
• Breathlessness (due to anemia)
• Bruising easily
• Dental enamel defects and discoloration
• Depression
• Fatigue
• Growth delay in children
• Hair loss
• Hypoglycemia (low blood sugar)
• Irritability and behavioral changes
• Malnutrition
• Mouth ulcers
• Muscle cramps
• Nosebleed
• Seizures
• Short stature, unexplained
• Skin disorders (dermatitis herpetiformis)
• Swelling, general or abdominal
• Vitamin or mineral deficiency, single or multiple nutrient (for example, iron, folate, vitamin K)
• Recurrant Miscarrages 

That's right. Look at all that. And guess what? I had 13 of those symptoms. THIRTEEN of them.

I should of known right then and there, she wasn't what I needed. She was fatphobic.

I left that appointment feeling pissed off and trapped. This midwifery practice was the only one in the area that offered hospital births. They took our insurance. Money was tight, I had to go there or risk being treated by an OB practice.

Why didn't I want an OB practice? I don't like men touching me. Newsflash, I'm a rape survivor. I have been raped twice. Once at gun point. So for a man to have access to my 'party' area, we need to have a little more rapport then a co-pay.

So we stayed with this practice.

I didn't think much of it threw the pregnancy. Shit, I didn't think much of it until . . .just this week.

But she led me to the section.

She did.

I'll say it again. It's not my fault I trusted her. I should of trusted her. She took advantage of that trust. Wow, now I'm sobbing. I can't even put into words how I feel right now.

Wow.

The day my son was born, and I'm sure I'll go deeper into this as time goes on, we went to the hospital in what I thought was active labor. I was having beautifully intense surges and I was going with them. We were 41+5 and I was not going to be induced!

We got there, I was checked. It was the first time I was checked my whole pregnancy. I was 20% effaced and not dilated. Not one bit. She hooked me up to a EFM and did a stress test and since I was there, wanted to do an ultrasound just to make sure everything was fine. I should of said no.

I threw up. I got in the shower I kept bouncing on the ball. Surges stopped. False labor.

After the ultrasound she came in with 'grim' news. My son was 'dry.' He had no amniotic fluid and he wasn't practice breathing. She was concerned because he had a single artery cord he was at a greater risk of it getting trapped between my uterus and his body and shutting off his lifeline. She wanted to induce or section me. 'We need to get him out as quickly as possible. He's in danger.'

I asked her what she wanted to do. She said we could start with cervidil and then you'd have to have pitosin. Or, we could save you the trouble and section. I asked her can't I refuse the pitocin? She said No. Again, more bullshit.

I sobbed. I bawled. My body was failing me again.

My husband asked 'what our chances of birthing him' with the induction. She said there was about an 80% chance I'd be sectioned. The pit would cut off his oxygen and put him into stress and that would be it.

I cried harder.

Now, why wouldn't she let me labor if the cervidil worked? Or . . .was it because I'm fat? She didn't expect me to get this far, why would I have a vaginal birth? I kept asking questions and I kept getting 'no.'

I asked her 'what would you do?'

And she said 'I'd have the surgery.'

And I trusted her. I TRUSTED HER to be honest with me. And I shouldn't have. I should of tried. I should of refused the pit. I should of FUCKING TRIED. But I was told it was an 'emergency.'

She brought me the consent forms. 'Here is the consent for the elective surgery.'

That is what she said. I should of stopped her right there. 'elective.' I asked her, she said 'it was medically needed.' Quickly changing her wording.

I shouldn't of trusted her. I shouldn't have. She abused that trust that I gave her.

I told this story in therapy. And My Therapist asked me 'how similar was this to your rape?'

And it was very similar. I was raped at a friends house. A friend I trusted. I was restrained. I was talked into it. And that is where this all got real.

The section triggered the memory of the initial rape and the trauma, which I'll get into later and at a more decent hour, pushed me over.

. . ..

. . . .

. . . .

I've been updating this all night, the memories and visions so fucking brilliant in my mind. I don't even have a clue if I should try and go back to the day I was raped or if I should focus on this. But then an amazing friend said 'deal with this. make peace with this. Then move on.'

So here I stay.