An unplanned c-section: A CityMom’s story
This was my second pregnancy. With the first, I was able to deliver vaginally with minimal issues. Needing a c-section didn’t cross my mind until I could see my baby’s heart rate dropping every time I had a contraction.
Image Credit: Curious Courtney’s Photography
Hours had passed since I checked into the hospital. There was a monitor behind me showing my vitals and those of the baby. Hearing his heartbeat coming from the monitor was soothing. It let me know he was okay.
I had Pitocin flowing through me and a pill was placed in my vagina to help soften my cervix. Mack, my little guy who we named months ago, was not a fan of the pill. His heart rate would spike up to 160 and then come down to under 100. The pill was swapped out for a Foley balloon. Like his reaction to the pill, his heart rate was all over the place. After an exhausting game of flipping from side to side every twenty minutes and adjusting the Pitocin, the balloon was removed.
I was nervous. I knew we were running out of options. I also couldn’t stand watching the levels on the monitor fluctuate like clockwork with every contraction. My doctor came in and told me we’d need to adjust to a C-section as we’d tried everything, and Mack was too unstable for me to push.
I just shook my head because I knew if I opened my mouth to say anything I’d start crying.
I was rolled down the hallway to the operating room while my husband was left standing in the room by himself. Within minutes, I’m laid on an operating table with my arms spread wide and a giant light shining down into my body. My entire body was freezing and numb. My husband was finally brought in and held my hand. I could vaguely see the inside of my body in the reflection of the lights.
“Return of the Mack” was playing quietly in the background. As if on cue, they pulled Mack out and deemed him healthy. I was stitched back up and rolled back down to my room, baby in my arms.
Image Credit: Curious Courtney’s Photography
I quickly realized this recovery would be nothing like the first one. With my first delivery, I was physically feeling normal within a week, aside from the bleeding. On top of the vaginal bleeding, there was now a giant incision across my abdomen.
A long, thin line was all that remained after the doctor cut through six layers of my body.
My anchor stitch, which is where the doctor was standing and pulled (hard) to tie off stitches, was on my right side. If I coughed, laughed, or turned slightly my right side erupted in pain. I had to keep a pillow or a rolled-up towel nearby to hold against my incision. I slept sitting up for two months. Bending over was impossible. I knew how to push through the lack of sleep that comes with a newborn, feedings every couple of hours, and just do what needs to be done to take care of a baby. I couldn’t push my way through recovering from the c-section. I had to ask for help.
I felt like I couldn’t be a fully present mom for my toddler. Beyond sharing my time with his little brother, I couldn’t do the simplest things like pick him up. The times when I gave in and picked him up, I paid the price with pain shooting across my abdomen.
Image Credit: Golden Cardinal Media
It took nearly three months before the pain subsided and I felt like I was in my healing phase. There’s still a scar and I used to ignore it. Some days I still avoid looking at it. I have to constantly remind myself that without the scar there’s a good chance my baby wouldn’t be here.
The sharp pain may be gone, but I’m still in my healing phase.
I’m learning how to love my skin again, scars and all.
