It was very early in the morning on
February 4 of this year when I woke my husband and we headed to the hospital.
Today was the day I was having my first baby. She wasn't arriving as myself, or
most mothers expect. A few day prior to this date I had been told at my exam
that my body still wasn't anywhere near ready to have this baby (I was due
February 7th). The doctor informed me that he believed that the baby wasn't
going to come unless induced and he was going to be out of the office for a
week and that means that I probably wouldn't be induced until February 21st. I
took one look at my husband and I could tell that he knew exactly what I was
thinking. Ummm...no thanks. Get this baby out of me now! I had complications
towards the end of my pregnancy with an enormous amount of swelling happening
in my left ankle. At this point I could barely walk and was already on partial
bed rest because of it. The decision was made (yes...here come the grumblings
and gasps from other mothers would never even think of doing what I'm about to
agree to) to have an elective c-section.
I didn't plan on having a c-section. In fact, I had planned from the start to have the baby naturally. We even toyed with the idea of delivering at home. I consider myself a pretty tough gal. I knew that I could give a natural birth a good go at least. I don't like medication and all of that other fluff. In fact, I own a natural beauty company. I prefer to let things happen as they would. But, that all went out the window when I was sitting in that OB office with an ankle/foot the size of head, listening to my doctor tell me I was going to have to wait at least two more weeks to have this baby. I was tired. I was in pain. I was done.
After agreeing to the c-section, we scheduled a date and headed home. We got a few blocks away from the office and I started to have these overwhelming feelings of guilt and shame. What had I just done? Did I really just agree to have my baby voluntarily cut out of me? That's against everything I had wanted and planned for the birth of my first child. What will my friends and co-workers think of me? Will they think I'm a wimp and took the easy way out? Will they think my baby will have complications and somehow miss out on a certain connection mother's are supposed to have with their child when they give birth naturally (or so I had read)? Has this one decision already doomed my relationship with my only baby?
No. It didn't. Not even the slightest.
I was excited and nervous (more nervous than excited) when we arrived at the hospital the morning I was having my c-section. I wanted to get in, get sliced open, have my baby, and be on with our merry lives. Well, things never go as planned for our family. They informed me that two women that were pregnant with twins had arrived that morning and they were going to have to push my c-section back to make sure a room was available for them. So, while I waited in my freezing room with nothing on but a very sterile smelling gown that left my whole butt exposed, my feelings of excitement became more feelings of nervousness. That time waiting in that room gave me the chance to actually think about what was going to happen. I became terrified. I started thinking about what was about to happen. Started thinking again about what everyone had told me about why it wasn't good to have a c-section. Started remembering all of those horror stories I read about c-sections on the internet (P.S. Here's a little friendly advice...If you are a new expecting mom- don't EVER read the internet). I told my husband that I was freaking out. Maybe I didn't want to do this. I think we should just go home and wait for the baby to come on her own.
Now, for anyone who knows my husband, they know he's like the tin man- in the nicest way possible :) He never gets too worked up. Never really gets mad. Never really gets crazy. During my moment of panic, he just looked at me with a very calm demeanor and told me to relax. And to just think about the fact that in just a very short amount of time, we'll be holding our beautiful daughter.
So I did my best to relax and a few minutes later they were ready for me.
And it all went perfectly! In to the operating room I went. Out came the beautiful healthy baby. And up I went to the Mother & Baby floor to recover.
And recover I did!
My recovery went extremely well. It was nothing like those horrible stories you've heard about the women who can't walk for days. Or the woman who was left with the gigantic scar. I was up and walking within hours after having my baby girl. It was a little painful, but not horrible. My incision...it was tiny. I honestly still can't believe that a baby was pulled out of that tiny of a space. The nurses were great and did an excellent job of making sure I was doing fine. It was a very pleasant experience. Now, breastfeeding on the other hand...that was another story. Another story for another day indeed.
As far as missing that special connection and experience you are to have when naturally giving birth to my baby girl, I don't feel I missed a thing. When they handed my baby girl to me there was without doubt a connection. A bond that is inexplicable. We hadn't known each other for years, but we knew each other far deeper than years can bring any other individuals together. They could have pulled that girl from anywhere in my body and I have no doubt the feelings would have been the same.
So there it is. An elective c-section mother's account. It wasn't at all what I had feared, or what others had made me fear, it was going to be. It was wonderful. It was magical. It was life.
I didn't plan on having a c-section. In fact, I had planned from the start to have the baby naturally. We even toyed with the idea of delivering at home. I consider myself a pretty tough gal. I knew that I could give a natural birth a good go at least. I don't like medication and all of that other fluff. In fact, I own a natural beauty company. I prefer to let things happen as they would. But, that all went out the window when I was sitting in that OB office with an ankle/foot the size of head, listening to my doctor tell me I was going to have to wait at least two more weeks to have this baby. I was tired. I was in pain. I was done.
After agreeing to the c-section, we scheduled a date and headed home. We got a few blocks away from the office and I started to have these overwhelming feelings of guilt and shame. What had I just done? Did I really just agree to have my baby voluntarily cut out of me? That's against everything I had wanted and planned for the birth of my first child. What will my friends and co-workers think of me? Will they think I'm a wimp and took the easy way out? Will they think my baby will have complications and somehow miss out on a certain connection mother's are supposed to have with their child when they give birth naturally (or so I had read)? Has this one decision already doomed my relationship with my only baby?
No. It didn't. Not even the slightest.
I was excited and nervous (more nervous than excited) when we arrived at the hospital the morning I was having my c-section. I wanted to get in, get sliced open, have my baby, and be on with our merry lives. Well, things never go as planned for our family. They informed me that two women that were pregnant with twins had arrived that morning and they were going to have to push my c-section back to make sure a room was available for them. So, while I waited in my freezing room with nothing on but a very sterile smelling gown that left my whole butt exposed, my feelings of excitement became more feelings of nervousness. That time waiting in that room gave me the chance to actually think about what was going to happen. I became terrified. I started thinking about what was about to happen. Started thinking again about what everyone had told me about why it wasn't good to have a c-section. Started remembering all of those horror stories I read about c-sections on the internet (P.S. Here's a little friendly advice...If you are a new expecting mom- don't EVER read the internet). I told my husband that I was freaking out. Maybe I didn't want to do this. I think we should just go home and wait for the baby to come on her own.
Now, for anyone who knows my husband, they know he's like the tin man- in the nicest way possible :) He never gets too worked up. Never really gets mad. Never really gets crazy. During my moment of panic, he just looked at me with a very calm demeanor and told me to relax. And to just think about the fact that in just a very short amount of time, we'll be holding our beautiful daughter.
So I did my best to relax and a few minutes later they were ready for me.
And it all went perfectly! In to the operating room I went. Out came the beautiful healthy baby. And up I went to the Mother & Baby floor to recover.
And recover I did!
My recovery went extremely well. It was nothing like those horrible stories you've heard about the women who can't walk for days. Or the woman who was left with the gigantic scar. I was up and walking within hours after having my baby girl. It was a little painful, but not horrible. My incision...it was tiny. I honestly still can't believe that a baby was pulled out of that tiny of a space. The nurses were great and did an excellent job of making sure I was doing fine. It was a very pleasant experience. Now, breastfeeding on the other hand...that was another story. Another story for another day indeed.
As far as missing that special connection and experience you are to have when naturally giving birth to my baby girl, I don't feel I missed a thing. When they handed my baby girl to me there was without doubt a connection. A bond that is inexplicable. We hadn't known each other for years, but we knew each other far deeper than years can bring any other individuals together. They could have pulled that girl from anywhere in my body and I have no doubt the feelings would have been the same.
So there it is. An elective c-section mother's account. It wasn't at all what I had feared, or what others had made me fear, it was going to be. It was wonderful. It was magical. It was life.
