A Positive Emergency C-Section Birth Story

Before the end of International Cesarean Awareness Month 2022, I have decided to share the story of my daughter’s birth. For the longest time, I carried a lot of guilt, sadness, and regret that I had to have an emergency c-section. Like many, I dreamed of having a natural birth with minimal medical intervention. I prepared myself by reading books on natural birthing, attending birth and hypnobirthing classes. I was confident in my ability to birth my baby naturally, but I was also not completely against intervention when necessary.

I had a difficult pregnancy where I threw up every day for nine months (sometimes even 5-6 times a day) and had a kidney infection in the first trimester, but other than that I was healthy and fit. I travelled, moved countries, started a new job, and worked up until my due date. My due date came and went. A week passed by, then another. As you can imagine, at 42 weeks, I was quite ready for this baby to be born. But she seemed to be comfortable inside, kicking and active. She hadn’t engaged in the slightest and my cervix was posterior and showed no signs of effacing. So at the advice of my doctor, we finally checked into the hospital (after the biggest meal of chooza chicken and chips) where I was induced via prostaglandin gel. Not once, not twice, but three times (she really was comfortable in there!). Medically, we could not go beyond 42 weeks without an induction, and if labour still didn’t start after the third induction (each spaced 8 hours apart), I was informed that I would directly need to go in for a c-section.

Thankfully, I lost my mucus plug and labour began at 7 am, about 6 hours or so after the third induction attempt. l progressed relatively well, 3-4 cms dilated after the first 5 hours or so. I remember the pelvic examinations being very painful but the contractions were bearable and I was happy to finally be progressing. I felt like I went into this trance like state and my body took over and kept me moving, breathing, and resting. After about 5 hours or so, the doctor came and broke my water and I was given a drip to further along the contractions. I wasn’t consulted about this nor did I object- I just went with the flow. Shortly after, I started feeling dizzy and threw up as the contractions intensified and the pain increased. They transferred me to the delivery room and I remember taking my husband to the bathroom and telling (read yelling at) him that I either needed an epidural now or a c-section. I also remember asking the nurse for the epidural and she promised she would get it for me. However, shortly after she noticed that the colour of the amniotic fluid coming out of me was tinged with green indicating the baby’s distress. After consulting the doctor, she stopped my drip and they began tracking the baby’s heart rate with every contraction. By this point, I was about 10 hours into labour, 5 cms dilated, and beyond ready to get this child out of me. A senior midwife was called in, and my doctor quickly consulted with her, showing her the sheets stained with meconium laced amniotic fluid. I remember the absolute silence in the room while the three medical staff stared at the monitor, waiting for the next contraction. There was a distinct shift in the mood of the room as her heart rate dropped with each contraction. A decision to go for an emergency c-section was quickly made and our consent was sought. At that point I couldn’t care less how the baby came out of me, as long as this excruciating pain went away, and we were both safe.

I was taken to the operation theatre with my husband by my side the whole time. I remember asking the nurse what her name was, where she lived, when her shift was getting over. I felt delirious but also strangely calm in between the contractions. I felt like we spent forever outside the theatre but it couldn’t have been very long. Injecting the anaesthetic was a big challenge because I have mild scoliosis and the shape of my spine made it hard to get the needle in. Two nurses had to hold my arms while I curved my back and the anaesthetist tried to get the needle in between contractions. Just before she managed to get it in, she said that this was the last time she would try, and if it didn’t work I would need general anaesthesia. I think that was the first time that I actually panicked- I couldn’t imagine not being awake while my baby was born. I still remember the kindness of the anaesthetist. She kept stroking my hair, reassuring me that all would be well. I remember her covering me up when I was cold and shivering, and putting my husband’s hand in mine.

And then, that first cry. We squeezed hands and teared up. She was quickly checked while her father met her for the first time, and then brought her over to me. I kissed her, the anaesthetist helped me hold her, and our wonderful paed decided to take some pictures of us (husband was totally lost).

The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital room. It had been about two hours since she was born and my husband was with her in the nursery all the while. Again, our paed helped him make the right decision to stay with her rather than me. Her blood sugar was low probably because I was throwing up throughout labour and because of the distress towards the end, so she was given some formula as a result. Now, she was sleeping peacefully. We informed family and friends about the birth and had some dinner. I put her to the breast for the first time, I was assisted to the bathroom to pee (yes just a few hours post surgery!), I took my medication, and then we finally slept. We thought that we would be woken up by the nurses at night to feed but the next thing I know, it was morning- all three of us had slept through the first night (the last time we slept through the night for a very long time!) The next three days at the hospital went by, and thankfully my recovery wasn’t very difficult. I was walking around and generally felt well although I’m sure the meds were helping. I continued taking light painkillers for a few weeks which helped ease the back pain while we figured out breastfeeding.

The emotional scars took a lot longer to heal. Although I had a positive experience overall with a great birthing team, I kept wondering ‘what if’ and second guessing the decisions that we made (or should have made). What if the doctor hadn’t broken my waters or given me the drip? What if my labour had been allowed to progress naturally? Why didn’t I insist on a doula? Why wasn’t I more clear about my birth plan? Should I have chosen another doctor? I felt envious of others who had given birth naturally around the same time as me. I kept thinking about all the things I could have done differently. I grieved the loss of the birth I never had.

With time, I healed. I accepted that although this wasn’t the birth I envisioned, it was the one I had. I was loved, cared for, and respected throughout the process. I had the privilege of the best medical care available in the country. I got to experience the indescribable process of labour. My body did an amazing job of creating, growing, and bringing life into this world. And science supported and enabled this to happen, ensuring our safety. I look back with nothing but positive memories of the most special day of our lives.