WARNING: This is my honest account of my Cesarean Section birth. It contains some graphic descriptions and photos.
It was Friday evening and My C section was scheduled for Monday. Our bags we’re mostly packed aside from the last minute toiletries and a few other things that I wanted to wash first but that was ok because we had the whole weekend to prepare. That was one of the very few perks of C sections right, control over the timing! We had just about every hour scheduled over the weekend. The list was filled with totally practical things like cleaning the house, changing the sheets, stocking the fridge and pantry and making some meals and snacks for the kids in our absence. We we’re going to be so organised, we we’re even catching up with friends for dinner... or so we thought.
This was my third pregnancy with no complications and my third c section. None of my babies had ever even dropped into my pelvis properly (even Evie who was 9 days overdue) so you can imagine my surprise when we were preparing for bed and I noticed that I was bleeding. There wasn’t much but I had never spotted before, ever. I called the hospital and they asked me to monitor the situation and call back in 1hr. Jesse assured me that everything was ok and nothing was going to happen but it didn’t go unnoticed that he started cleaning the kitchen and folding washing. He knew what was about to happen. The hour passed in a blur and there was no new loss so the labour ward told me to go to sleep and be on bed rest for the remainder of the weekend so I would make it through until Monday. I still felt uneasy, what if I start bleeding again in my sleep?
An hour after we went to bed, Leo woke and was crying so I sat in his room for what felt like an eternity until he fell back to sleep. I quickly ducked into the bathroom to check myself and there was more blood. Again, there wasn’t much but the hospital had told me to call back if anything at all changed, even minor loss. So I called the hospital and the midwife asked me to come in for monitoring. She must have heard the hesitation in my voice and assured me that unless something was very wrong, it was likely that I would just be monitored overnight. It was about 1am by this stage and we didn’t want to drag the family over in the middle of the night if we didn’t have to so Jess helped me pack the last few things in my bag, put me in the car and waved me off. The drive there was surreal, I was in a daze. I genuinely don’t even remember which route I took.
The midwife who looked after me was lovely. She assured me that my baby wasn’t in distress and that I was in early stage labour but nothing was really happening. I had nothing but my phone and my bag of Young Living Essential Oils within reach so I sat there mindlessly scrolling and layering on all my calming oils! At about 4.30am they turned off the lights and told me to get some sleep. 6am rolled around and I was greeted by a midwife with an extra large Anti D needle. The lack of sleep and rude awakening obviously made me jittery because I almost hit the roof when stabbed it into my behind!
I was told that my OB had a scheduled C section at 8am and that he would call in before that to assess me but it was likely that I would follow in straight afterwards. Holy Smokes Batman, what?! I am having this baby in a few hours? Jesse wasn’t even there yet, my parents (the babysitters) we’re on a little getaway in Freo for their 60th birthdays and I hadn’t even said goodbye to the kids! This isn’t happening, I haven’t changed the sheets, the fridge is empty, where is my Stress Away?! I pulled myself together and put the wheels in motion. I rudely awoke mum at 6.30am and cut her getaway short and I called Jess (who was already awake and cleaning!) and told him to get here ASAP and then I waited.
Eventually my OB visited and witnessed a contraction. I had been having them regularly but I honestly just thought they were Braxton Hicks. He said ‘Alright, we’re going to get this baby out this morning or you’ll be back over the weekend anyway so i'll see you down in theatre’ and he was gone. Thankfully, Jess arrived moments later and I breathed a huge sigh of relief.
The next hour or so was a bit of a blur. I do know that the gorgeous midwife ran around the labour ward and wrote down a list of baby boy names from the other mothers on the ward. She presented us with a napkin full of names and Jess and I we’re going to pick from that list! We were certain that we were having a boy. Had she have been a boy she would have been Hugo, Arlo or Flynn. I was taken down to the theatre waiting zone and everyone was so friendly and relaxed but I couldn’t concentrate on their attempted humour, I knew I had hit panic mode. I was cold and shaking, someone got me a blanket.
A few minutes later we rolled into theatre and the familiar bright lights and buzz of staff ensued around me. The anesthetist got to work straight away by putting my cannula in for the drip. It quickly became apparent that I had fasted for too long and I was severely dehydrated. He prodded and pushed away at my hand rather violently trying to force it in but he eventually gave up, wrapped it up and tried again on my other hand. I looked over at Jesse for comfort (it really bloody hurt!) and Jesse’s face was wide eyed and shocked. Later he told me how forceful he was being and how horrible it was to watch. The entire top side of my hand ended up black and blue. Next up was the spinal needle. Honestly, compared to the drip, the spinal needle was a walk in the park but the gravity of what he was doing back there wasn’t lost on me and I held my breath in fear of moving and causing a slip. It was in and before I knew it my legs were being lifted for me and I was on my back with the curtain up. They ran the ice block around my chest and I could still feel the cold but the process had already started.
A few minutes later I mentioned to the anesthetist that I could still move one of my feet, he made a joke to distract me but I still noticed him putting more drugs into my drip. Everyone made small talk with me but for the most part I wasn’t really hearing them. I squeezed Jesse’s hand so tight and stared at him. I could feel my body being tugged and pulled but I didn't feel any pain. A lovely midwife kept asking if I was ok and tears were prickling my eyes. I hated this. I was so scared. I wanted my baby out safely and I wanted to be back on the ward. All of a sudden the sheet was being dropped, our baby was coming. I will remember what happened next for the rest of my life. She was stuck, they couldn’t get her out. I watched my body being dragged back and forth across the table like it wasn’t even attached to me. I could see it happening but I couldn’t feel it. It would have been traumatic for anyone let alone someone who was petrified to have another C section. There was a very loud suction POP and up she came, she was tiny! My OB held her up to me genitals first and said ‘so what have you got’? to which I replied... “It’s a BOY”! Everyone laughed and at first I had no idea why until someone corrected me. Another baby girl, how perfect! That just felt right. They whisked her away for the Paed check and I watched from afar as Jess cut the cord and announced that she was only 2.6kg.
She was placed on my chest and I studied her tiny perfect features. Lola, she was always going to be Lola. Jess and I looked at each other in wonderment, a Girl! We couldn't believe it! Love washed over us and everything that had happened up until this point didn't matter. She was here and she was safe. Our little family is now complete. Some people think that having a C section is the easy way out. Well I can tell you first hand that in my experiences, there has been nothing easy about it.
