To the C-Section Warriors

April is C-section Awareness Month.

C-sections are often looked at in a controversial light. Five years and three children later, I am now comfortable saying I am a C-section mother, and I am proud of it.

I remember when my husband and I toured the hospital prior to giving birth to our first born. When we reached the pre-op and surgical areas, the reactions were similar for many of us soon-to-be mamas. Ain’t nobody got time for that. There I stood, basically tuning out the tour guide talking about what occurs in the event of a C-section (I should have been listening!), looking at my birthing plan I had created that day and playing in my head my idea of the perfect birth.

Fast forward to a month later, going into the hospital at 39 weeks because my water had broke, and my OB and I both agreed it was go time.

The Pitocin started, the hours crept by, and it felt like an eternity. When I got to the 5 cm dilated mark, following my birth plan, I requested an epidural. I needed some help. I was exhausted and in pain. I wanted to be able to focus to push. They attempted an epidural twice as my body battled a hot spot and the right side refused to go numb. Despite this, I made it to 9 CM. From there, no more progress, contractions were stacking due to Pitocin, and baby was not ready to vacate.

My OB checked me and explained that he could feel her cord around her neck. Her heart was looking pretty good, but I was swelling and digressing, so he felt for our safety, it was time for a C-section. I did not hear those last words. Denial set in, tears set in. Since my epidural had only worked on the left side of my body after two attempts, I was feeling numb on one side and extreme pain on the other, and it was hard to process and think.

Finally, after a pep talk from my husband and motivation from my mom, I was taken back to the OR.

Unfortunately, after several attempts in the OR, the hotspot continued on the right side of my body. Shear, screaming terror came out of me as the procedure began. I did not want to be put under general anesthesia. My OB, the team, everyone in that room, was trying all they could to help me. The pain felt was unbearable. I had not done a whole lot of research into C-sections, but I had been told by several others that theirs went just fine.

Here I was, over 18 hours of labor in, now strapped on a table and able to identify when the knife cut through the right side of my body.

My OB moved quickly, and the CRNA was gathering a variety of pain-relieving medications. I finally heard a cry, and this one was not from me.  My husband, who was trying his best to juggle keeping me together and watching the birth of our daughter, was handed a beautiful baby girl. I did not get to hold her first. I did not get to start our first minutes together doing skin-to-skin. One by one, my checklist of the perfect birth had come unraveled.

But I watched my husband, watched him proudly hold her for the first time and raise her to my face. I kissed her face, I kissed the 8.2 pound baby, and I knew I would get cut open a million times over for that tiny 8 pound human. The CRNA offered to take our first family photo. That was the last thing I could remember in the OR. All the pain medication kicked in. Our first photo as a family of three is me passed out with oxygen on my face, and Tom smiling proudly with our daughter.

For a while after having Autumn, I did not like to tell many my birthing story.

I had battled so hard and, for a little bit, felt l had lost. However, as I started opening up and sharing my birth story to others, it made me realize that I had started making sacrifices for my child before she was even here. I had to forgo my perfect birth plan for her safety. I went into the OR with just a minute’s notice and realization that I was about to have major surgery. I fought through a hot spot and partial feeling during the procedure, but knew it had to be done so that I could be awake to see her face, even if just for a moment. And when the moment came for me to hold her for the first time, two hours after she was born, it felt perfect. I did what I had to do for my baby. I put her needs before my own desires. If that is not real motherhood, I do not know what is.

Cheers to all moms, but today, I raise a caffeinated beverage to C-section mothers. May we always be proud of our battle scar, and never forget the bravery we had to have to bring our child safely into this world. We are warriors.