I’m not going to lie, I have been avoiding writing out my birth story. Not because it isn’t beautiful, and definitely not because I’m not proud of the end result: healthy baby, healthy momma. I’ve hesitated because it wasn’t what I envisioned for myself.
As I’m writing it out, I’m realizing it’s a bit long… which is fitting because my labor was long too. So, in order not to bore you in just one post, I’m going to share this in three parts. So with that, here is My Birth Story: A Trilogy.
I did not plan to have a C-section, although I know there are some moms who plan to be put under the knife to meet their little ones.
I went through the Bradley Method of Husband-Coached Natural Childbirth, which is a class that teaches you all about the benefits of having a child naturally. I loved the class because it taught Daniel all about birth, and he played such an integral part in our labor. The best thing about the method is that it focuses primarily on giving you, the patient, the encouragement you need to give informed consent. So throughout my entire pregnancy, we felt that we knew the right questions to ask, and we knew when to ask them. It’s such a great class to take to prepare and plan for your baby, so if you’re thinking about signing up for one: Do it, now.
So, with all that, a C-section and being induced was definitely not in the cards for us. I watched The Business of Being Born like it was my job. I unintentionally equated a C-section with failing. I’m not sure how I could consider it a failure, especially since I was born by a C-section… and I’d like to think I’m not failing at life. But this stigma, nevertheless, existed in my mind.
I was pretty adamant about wanting my body to do things on its own. So adamant, in fact, that when my doctor — at 41 weeks — started talking about how “I won’t get what I want in labor,” and how “98% of women don’t go past their due date (BS),” and “encapsulating the placenta was cannibalism,” I fired her and hired a new one. Oh yeah, and my water broke three hours later.
It just so happened to break while I was wandering around the grocery store; I know, how cliché of me. I waddled toward the bathroom and called Daniel.
Me: “Daniel, I thiiiiiiink my water broke.”
Daniel: “Are you sure?”
Me: “I could’ve just peed myself again, but I’ll call the doctor and have him check.”
Twenty minutes later, I pull up to the doctor’s office to find Daniel there waiting. He’s too good. Our brand new Doctor confirmed the water had broken and we were sent to the hospital.
So yes, I fired my doctor and then went into labor hours later. Would I do things differently this time around? Nope.
So much about labor is emotional, and I got to the point where I didn’t trust my doctor and we just weren’t on the same page any longer. And it was the best decision I made, even if it was a little crazy.
Keep an eye out for My Birth Story: A Trilogy – Part Deux.