Coco: A Birth Story
If you don’t know, now you know: our daughter Corinne Elizabeth Woods Contreras (“Coco”) was born almost six weeks ago (but like how has it been six weeks already?!). Anyway, like most of the plans I make, my birth plan was basically shot to hell. The plan was to have a magical home birth. 6 hours tops of beautiful labor aided by crystal healing sound bowls and candles and all the things. Birthing her into the tub with my partner and my son by my side, maybe with some Stevie Nicks playing softly in the background because that’s just how I roll. No complications, no delays, no crises (check out this post for my epic first birth story), just smooth, easy, healthy, and beautiful.
Honestly, my life is pretty easy and flows most of the time. I live with the loves of my life in a house with ocean view in Hawaii. I’m healthy, my family is healthy, our bills always get paid, and I’m building a business I couldn’t have even dreamed up just a year ago. Once I decide I want something, I almost always get it. Things flow pretty easily and I really don’t have much to complain about. However, when it comes to things I have no control over, there always seems to be some kind of obstacle or crisis to overcome. This story is no exception.
My entire pregnancy with Coco turned my world upside down. The first trimester sucked physically and the second and third trimesters sucked mentally and emotionally (listen to episode 7 of Aligned Motherhood to know what I mean). Then at 37 weeks, my OB told me baby was breech then asked if I’d like to schedule a C-section (“uh, no thanks.” I never went back.)
I went to my home birth team and asked what I should do. The weeks following were full of moxibustion, Spinning Babies breech protocol, visualization, massage, acupuncture, countless handstands in the ocean, and desperately asking baby what it needed me to do to help it turn. “Baby! What is the gooddamn lesson here?!”
Finally one night in the bath at around 39 weeks, in the middle of my ugly sobbing tears, I got an answer from baby: “just let go and relax,” and so I did. I decided that my acupuncture appointment the following day would be my last effort to turn baby. I got out of the bath, lit a candle, pulled tarot and angel cards, and wrote out my birth story as if one long affirmation. I decided I was going to visualize every detail and then let it go.
Needless to say, the acupuncture didn’t work, and neither did my little manifestation ritual. So at 40 weeks, my midwife asked if I’d like to revisit the idea of a manual version. She expressed her concerns about delivering a breech baby at home and we agreed with her, so I called to schedule the version ASAP because I felt strongly that baby was ready to come out like now, and I reeeeeally did not want to have to give birth in the hospital.
We dropped our son at a friends house and headed to the hospital to see if a doctor could turn the baby from the outside. I write this nonchalantly now, but you should know that I have a deep, intense fear of anything medical. Hospitals, doctors, needles, drugs, all of it. Just the thought of getting an IV had me breathing heavy. But I was doing this for the baby and in a last ditch effort to preserve my dream birth, so I was doing it. And I am damn proud I did!
Anyway, after hours of questions, getting pricked, and being monitored, we were finally told by the anesthesiologist that we would have to wait another 4 hours because of the Lara bar I ate in the waiting room. “In case we need to perform an emergent c-section, it’s important you don’t have anything in your stomach that you could aspirate on.” Information that would have been super duper helpful before we got there - just saying. We obviously couldn’t wait because we have a 3 year old to take care of, so they told me to go home, have a big dinner and good night’s sleep, and return at 5:30 am for the version.
We went home, I ate some leftover veggie soup, and then I proceeded to projectile vomit (sorry) into the wee hours of the morning. While hunched over the toilet around midnight alternating between crying (“NOW what’s the goddamn lesson, baby?!”), hoping I wouldn’t go into labor, and dry heaving, I thought “I can’t do this.” It was yet another pretty raw moment for me, but one where I did not have a choice but to relinquish any ounce of illusionary control I was still clinging to.
Of course I overslept and was racing out of the house at 6am, but I made it and they got me right in. (Major shoutout to my girl Fauzia for schlepping to the hospital to keep me company while Mike held it down at home. You the real MVP.) They prepared me for the version, making sure to stress how painful it would be if I declined the epidural. They asked if I was ready and I said “no, but do it anyway.” After 4 attempts, baby did finally flip around! But only to flip right back to breech again. Shaking with tears rolling down my face (it was indeed painful without the epidural), I listened as the doctor said he was not comfortable trying again as it might put baby at risk. I nodded my head and whispered a sad “thank you” before he walked out the door.
Until this point, the plan was to attempt a home birth whether or not baby cooperated with the version. Either way, I planned to leave the hospital and be in the comfort of my own home for labor. But at that moment, I was unwaveringly certain that I needed to stay in the hospital and have my baby via c-section. Tears rolled down my cheeks along with my last hope for a home birth as I asked the nurse to schedule it.
2.5 hours later, they were wheeling a very scared Krystal into the operating room. 30 minutes after that, they were telling me we had a baby girl (I actually said “what?! Are you sure?!”) and bringing that beautiful bundle to my face. I’ll never forget how I felt when I heard her cry for the first time (very different from how I feel when I hear her cry now, ha). She was 8 pounds, 1 oz, 20 inches long, with a whopping 15 inch head circumference. Mike told me the tugging I felt was them trying to pull her head out of me because it was so big. Thank goodness I did not attempt to have that baby breech at home.
I had planned to name her Marion Corinne or Ruby Corinne, after some lovely ladies in my family (Mike named Matt so I got to name this one). But the day after she was born I couldn’t give her either name, and decided on Corinne (after my mom) Elizabeth (my middle name and my great-grandmother’s middle name) Woods Contreras, aka “Coco.” You would think my mom would be stoked, but instead she complained that her nickname should be “Cece” because she loves the show New Girl. Nice, mom!
Anyway, I busted right out of that hospital 24 hours after the procedure because did you know it’s almost impossible to actually get any rest in a hospital?! The recovery has been no joke, but I have had some really great support this time around which has made life possible these last few weeks. Make sure you take a listen to the podcast for even more details and reflections. Definitely subscribe too because soon I will be sharing my Fourth Trimester experience in all it’s messy, smelly, emotional glory and you don’t wanna miss that!
I want to hear from you! Did you have the birth you hoped for? If not, did you struggle to let go of what you thought it would be? Do you feel you had enough support following birth? Leave a comment or reach out to me directly.
