The Guilt of Having a C-Section

When I found out I was pregnant, I was overjoyed, I was elated, I was stupefied and I was also terribly anxious. I was so eager to give birth and hold my little boy in my arms. I knew it was a boy the day I found out. VJ kept talking to him gender neutral, but I kept referring to the tiny blueberry sized baby as my little man. My mother-in-law wanted a boy too and my parents desperately wanted a baby girl. If it were possible, my dad would have had a few more girls. He loves raising girls (not me, but my sister). My dad was absolutely disappointed when he found out it was a boy. I was a bit worried that he might not play with Arlo as much he would if it were a girl, but from the first moment my dad saw Arlo, he wouldn’t let him go. My dad loves him so much that seeing him brightens his day (at least that’s what he tells me). So I talked to him every day when I was pregnant, telling how much I love him and how much dada loves him and how much he means to me.

I was approaching 36 weeks. I had been having Braxton Hicks for quite some time now, they weren’t really painful, but they were really uncomfortable. And with my diabetes, it was getting really hard to maintain my sugars. My high-risk ob-gyn threw in a bunch of complex words and decided that it was better to be induced. He sent his notes to my ob-gyn and she scheduled my induction and my water breaking. I thought hey, many women spend hours trying to start labor, at least I get a jump start on it. Boy, how wrong I was. The moment they inserted that weird tablet into my cervix, my contractions started. They were painful and I hid it pretty well for a long time. I thought great since my contractions started my water will break by itself. Boy, how wrong I was again. My water was broken by my ob-gyn. So now I thought the baby will come by himself now. But at 2 am, nearly 20 hours after my water was broken, the on-call doctor decided I was on enough Pitocin and that my body has been having non-stop contractions for over 12 hours, so she did a C-Section despite me saying I want to try for at least a few more hours. But out came Arlo at 3.20 AM on a Thursday after they cut my abdomen.

The first few days I was fine. After coming back from the hospital, when we sent out the birth announcement (via text’s), everyone started asking about him being born. Every time someone asked why it was a C-section, my heart broke. I felt my body betray me. I kept thinking back what I could have changed and I did all that they tell. I walked as much as I could. I drank so much water, that I peed every 10 minutes. I ate dates that suddenly were disgusting. I bounced on the yoga ball and nearly fell off it once. I did pelvic exercises which were super tiring. I did kegel exercises that were supposed to help. Despite all that, how could my body betray me? Why couldn’t my body give me the chance to push my baby out by myself? Why couldn’t my body open up for me to have a baby? My body already betrayed me by having PCOS, Endometriosis, Fibroids, and Diabetes, why couldn’t it give me one positive thing? The doctors tried to help my body so much, but it still betrayed me. I denied Arlo the change of my bacteria on his body. I denied him the chance of a natural birth and I still stay up nights thinking about what I could have done differently in my pregnancy or the labor.

Of course, none of it could have changed my C-section, but it still didn’t stop me from feeling so guilty. I’ve read these comments and articles about women calling out to those who had a C-section and it greatly saddens me. It wasn’t like I was given a choice. I would have continued to be in labor for a few more days if it were possible. I would have continued to have contractions as long as my baby was okay. It doesn’t matter what happens to me. The only thing that matters to me is my little Arlo. No woman should call out another for having a C-section. Kudos to those who did have a natural birth. Also KUDOS to those who had a C-section. You have this scar that you will carry it for the rest of your lives. The recuperation time for my C-section I felt was far greater. Even after 4 months I felt tender sometimes near my scar when I walked for long. A few of my friends suggested I might have PPD, but no, it’s just that insatiable guilt that I had that wouldn’t go away. Whenever I look at Arlo I want to apologize to him for not trying hard enough. I want to apologize to him for not walking to start labor by itself.

I know all that matters is that he’s here – safe, in my arms. Sometimes I feel like I should talk to someone. Pooh thinks I’m ridiculous (maybe I am) and a few of my friends think I’m forgetting the most important thing – that it’s over. If you feel the same like I do, please do leave your comments and make me feel better.

Love,
Po