It’s been a year since the migraines started. Almost a year since we started talking about a c-section. Just over ten months since the surgery and Cole’s birth.
I never gave much thought to a c-section or paid attention to heated debates, snarky comments and even well meaning advice for people to become more educated and not “let doctors push unnecessary surgeries on them.” But you know how it goes; when something becomes personal you pay attention. When life hands you a circumstance and you find yourself part of statistic, you pay attention.
My c-section was unnecessary. I guess. In hindsight. But at the time we didn’t know. We didn’t know if the symptoms were migraine related and harmless or if I really had an aneurysm.
I had to think about things like, “what if I die?”, “what if I send Craig home, alone, to two children?”, “am I risking the life of my baby?” and “will she remember me?” Thoughts that no mother should ever have to think swirled in my head for weeks as we were in and out of doctor’s offices for second and third opinions.
Those thoughts made the decision, when push came to shove, easy. No, I’m sorry, not easy… obvious. I had to schedule the c-section. I missed the chance to go into labor on my own. I missed the chance have another vaginal delivery. I missed the chance to hold my son the moment he was born.
I am eternally grateful that the surgery was unnecessary and that my medical appointments ended a month later with a follow up test that couldn’t be done while I was pregnant. After the angiogram, I was sent home with a bruise the size of Texas on my groin and instructions to take whatever I needed for migraine pain. But I knew that my head was OK.
So this isn’t a post about the regrets of having a c-section. It’s not a post to rant about being forced into a surgery. It’s just a post to try to explain why it’s such a hot topic for those of us who have had c-sections when we feel as though we’re being judged by people who think natural birth is the best way for everyone.
And I’m trying to be careful here, because I don’t want to offend, I just want to try to explain.
It’s not you. It’s not that your message or your statistics are wrong. It’s not that your tone is condescending (OK, sometimes it is) or that your heart is in the wrong place. It’s just that it doesn’t help. Because no matter how broad or specific you try to be, you can’t possibly understand each and every case that ended up in a c-section. And if we already feel shitty about the c-section, either because it wasn’t what we dreamed or because of a painful recovery or it affects our future family planning decisions, you can’t make us feel better about it.
So I take it personally. I feel judged; even if the judgment is veiled. The hair on the back of my neck stands up and I find myself wanting to shout, “yeah, well listen to my story and then tell me if more education would have kept me out of the operating room!”
Yes, I think pregnant women should know what they want to strive for in labor. Yes, I think they should have doctors, midwives and/or nurses who support their decisions. Yes, I think women should have a general understanding of how their bodies work and know what to expect in labor.
But we don’t all want the same things. And we don’t all get what we want. So whether we scheduled the c-section or whether we ended up there after labor started, you telling us what we should have done just doesn’t help. Using our birth stories as examples, doesn’t help.
By all means, be proud of your deliveries. Tell your birth stories. This isn’t to say we don’t want to hear about your experience. We’ll smile at your memories, tear up at the part where you look at your baby for the first time and be happy that you accomplished your goal of a delivery that was what you wanted. The sharing is what’s important, because more sharing leads to more conversation, more understanding and less judgment.
And isn’t that what we all want? A little less judgment?
Because this has been on my mind for months, I’m linking it up here.
