Baby #3’s Birth Story: Accepting My Fate as a C-section Mama

If you read my first two birth stories you know that I ended up with two emergency C-sections. They were unplanned and while I never felt like a failure or like my body had failed me, I still would have preferred not to have surgery.

Since having my C-sections, I’ve read many articles about how moms felt like they didn’t get to experience birth as it was meant to be. I truly never felt like that. If anything, I was grateful to modern medicine for delivering me and my children to the other side of childbirth healthy and alive.

When it came time to plan the birth of my third child, I knew that not only was a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean) not an option, but even if it was, I didn’t want it.

By this point, having gone through it twice already, I knew that my body was not built for vaginal delivery. My babies were too big (all 8-9lbs) and my pelvis was too small.

I went to my 12-week appointment and said to my doctor, “Let’s schedule my C-section.” I had my dates picked out already. I knew that I wanted to go right at 39 weeks. With my first two, I went to 41 weeks and as any pregnant mama knows, those last two weeks are miserable.

Being able to plan gave me a feeling of control that I lacked with my other two births. But it also gave me some small pangs of anxiety. I knew what the aftermath of a C-section felt like, and I knew I’d be doing it while chasing a 2-year-old and 4-year-old.

When the day came for my planned C-section, we got to the hospital at 6 a.m. I hadn’t slept well the night before for obvious reasons.

After my last two births, this one went exactly according to plan. I got to the hospital, they got my IV started, and after a short wait, I was in the OR.

This time, I was more aware of what was going on. With my other two, there was a sense of urgency to get the epidural for pain relief. I wanted that epidural. This time, it was less chaotic and I had more time to be nervous.

I felt the medicine go down my back and could no longer move anything below my chest. It’s a strange feeling and I had a lot of time to lie there and think about it.

Finally, they brought my husband in and it was time to get started. We didn’t know the gender of our baby, and when they took him out and shouted, “it’s a boy” I immediately teared up.

There’s something beautiful about knowing it’s your last baby and I soaked up every minute that comes along with that experience. Maybe it was because I hadn’t labored all night, or because I knew what to expect, but the rest of the day went smooth as silk.

I sat in my bed and held my beautiful boy and nuzzled his cheeks. I didn’t even want visitors because I wanted him all to myself. Those four days in the hospital were pure baby love spent cuddling and nursing.

Now you know all the details of how my children came into this world. You know about our breastfeeding journey, and how I pumped at work. I’d love to know more about you! What is your pregnancy journey? Birth story? Breastfeeding story?

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