Like so many parents I had written a very specific birth plan. I was determined to do it completely natural. I told myself again and again that I could do it and I believed in myself. I wanted to go into labor, push him out, get him on the boob, and start this magical life of being a mom. Apparently, he had different plans.
I went in for a regular check up, had high blood pressure (which I had my entire pregnancy, there was nothing wrong) so they decided to scrape my cervix. The doctor told me over and over that it wouldn’t put my into labor but they wanted to do it just in case they needed to induce me. I said okay go for it and settled into the incredibly uncomfortable hospital bed. They also wanted me to stay over night. Man I’m glad for that. Six in the morning the next day my water broke! Lets just say this was perfect. Corey was about to head to work, I was able to stop him. I wasn’t home to have to clean up a mess. It was the perfect circumstances. Then the contractions started.
To be honest, it wasn’t bad at first. I was actually pretty excited. I was breathing through the contractions and enjoying the pain knowing that it was telling me my son was coming and it was time. After twenty hours of it on the other hand, I wasn’t so pleased. They ended up forcing me to get an IV and once the needle was in I ended up giving in a little and allowing them to give me medicine. Did the medicine work? I’m not really sure. What I do know is that by the twentieth hour the pain really started. I decided I needed to push. I also decided I wanted an epidural.
Woah, what? That’s so not natural, what was I thinking? I was thinking that I’m in freaking pain and I was going to kill someone if they didn’t get the good stuff in me. The issue though, is that after about ten minutes the epidural failed. The pain came back ten fold… in my butt!! So, they gave me another one. Once again, it failed. Thankfully my Auntie Eileen was there to help me stay calm and push. She was the best cheerleader at the time. She kept me going and so for three hours I continued to push despite the excruciating pain.
Then, all of a sudden, it felt like my back was broken. I started screaming and crying and throwing up. I was done. I had signed the papers earlier for a C-section in case it was necessary. At this point, I felt it was. I couldn’t handle the pain. I went in for the C-section, got the spinal and was relieved from the pain, and Caleb was born. I heard Corey say, “He has your nose!” (thank goodness) and the doctor say, “Thank God we did the C-section! He was stuck on the bone.” Once I heard that, the nurse gave his stats, and I passed out. When I woke up in recovery my first thought was, where is he. I wanted my son. My second was, I gave up… My third was, God I’m glad I did.
My son was born healthy. Big, but healthy. If I had kept going there is a very good chance that he could have been harmed. That made me okay with the C-section at first. Then the fact that I did get to go through that pain to try to bring him into the world made me feel even better. Then I realized something… So many people, myself included, shame mothers who get C-sections. Why on earth do we do that? I’m glad that my son is here and he is healthy. Every mother just wants that. We work hard for nine months to make this perfect little being, asking for help to bring them into the world is nothing to be scoffed at. Be proud. No mater how your child ends up here, be proud. You’ve done good mama. Congratulations.
Thank you for reading!
*** A little side note. The only thing I regret is not pushing the booby crawl enough and making sure that Corey knew I wanted it. The hospital, against my wishes, gave my son formula. I wanted him put to my breast immediately. That did not happen. I’m noting this so other can be sure to demand it instead of just mentioning it. We’ve had a great breastfeeding relationship so I’ve forgiven them but it would have been easier the first few days if my wishes were met.