It had been three years since my twin boys were born by emergency caesareans (emergency c-section). One of those sweet boys was taken by RSV, a loss that carved deep lines of grief into my heart. Since then, every cough, every fever, every ache during pregnancy has had a way of pulling me back to those moments, stirring a storm of fear I still carry.
Now, in my sixth pregnancy, I was carrying my seventh child. I wanted a vaginal birth after cesarean (VBAC) desperately. It wasn’t just about the way I delivered; it was about reclaiming my body’s story after my twins’ birth. But I knew this pregnancy came with risk.
Using the Hear Her Campaign Template
Early on, I discovered the Hear Her Campaign from the CDC. My doula and I filled out the template together, listing:
- My history of c-section
- My previous complications
- My PTSD triggers
- The symptoms I needed to watch for
- The exact words I could use if I felt something was wrong
A few weeks later, I began noticing fluid leaking and a heaviness I couldn’t explain. My doula reminded me of the template and the importance of speaking up. I told my provider, “I’m worried about the fluid I’ve been noticing. I know you might think it’s normal, but I feel it’s different. Can we check to make sure my membranes aren’t leaking?”
Those conversations weren’t easy, but they gave me reassurance and kept my care team alert. Every time, my doula reminded me, my voice was my baby’s protection.
When Labor Began
The day labor started, it felt calm and steady. My contractions built slowly, and I breathed through each one, swaying and leaning on my doula for counterpressure. She kept me hydrated, whispered affirmations, and helped me stay grounded.
When I was admitted, I got an epidural and finally felt my body relax. For a while, everything felt manageable, until it didn’t.
When Everything Changed
Without warning, a deep, burning pain erupted low in my abdomen. It cut through the epidural like it wasn’t even there. This wasn’t normal labor pain it was sharp, unrelenting, and terrifying.
My doula leaned close and reminded me of the words I had practiced. Through the haze, I said, “something is wrong. This is not normal pain. I can’t manage it even with the epidural. Please check for uterine rupture or placental abruption.”
The room changed instantly. Nurses and doctors moved fast, monitors beeped louder, and voices grew urgent. They checked and realized my epidural had failed. The pain was overwhelming. With the suspicion of uterine rupture or placental abruption, there was no time to waste.
The Decision for Surgery
My VBAC dream disappeared in a blur of surgical prep. My doula stayed beside me, holding my hand. The anesthesiologist told me I would need to be put under general anesthesia for the emergency c-section. Tears burned my eyes, but I nodded. I had to trust them.
My last memory before drifting off was my doula’s voice in my ear, “you’ve spoken up. They’re listening. You’re safe.”
Waking Up
When I opened my eyes in recovery, the first thing I saw was my doula’s face. She was holding my hand, telling me my baby was safe. My birth hadn’t gone as planned, but because I had spoken up, and because I had someone there to help me find my voice, my baby and I were here. And that’s all that mattered.