Part I: A Brief History
I have been thinking about this post since I started this blog, but have not really had the courage to write it. I feel I need to before I have a second birth experience with my daughter, and Lord knows that could happen any day now. Plus, this three part series will probably explain a lot of my feelings and thoughts towards my daughters birth story, whatever it shall be, and whenever I post it. So here it goes.
As mentioned in some of my previous posts, I had an emergency c-section with my son. I won't go into the long story of the events leading up to the c-section, I'll just give a brief history. My husband and I prepared tirelessly for a natural childbirth. We took a 12 week childbirth course, read books, and even hired a doula to assist us during labor. We researched and prepared for any routine interventions that we didn't want happening at our birth and felt very well prepared to try our best to bring a baby into this world as comfortably (for the baby) and naturally as possible. I spent countless hours imagining what it would be like to go into labor, to feel my newborn baby placed on my chest and the immediate joy and relief that must come once the baby is out. At 36 weeks I found out that our son was breech, but I did not give up my goal of having a vaginal labor. I did everything in the books to get that kid to turn head down, including standing on my own head. I spent hours and weeks laying upside down on our couch (apparently this works for some people), putting ice on my belly and playing music on my lower abdomen trying to get my son to turn head down.
Fast forward to 38 weeks into pregnancy. I had been having routine ultrasounds done because our son was measuring very small and was still breech. At our 38 week ultrasound we were told by a doctor, whom I had only met that day, that we needed to go to the hospital that night for a c-section. And in the blink of an eye it was all taken away. And I was crushed. After that moment, things happened so quickly I never really had time to grasp or accept what was going on. The peculiar thing was that I was not scared for the health of my baby. In my heart, I knew my son was just fine. I just didn't know if the decision the doctor made so quickly that afternoon was fine. It has taken me a long time to come to terms with the events that took place on the day of my son's birth, and I have finally accepted that a c-section was probably the best route to take. But there are a few things that I feel will always disturb me about having a c-section.
More to come...
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