Becoming a Mom

For some reason, people believe that women aren't real mommies all because they have C-Sections. The way I see it is that, I carried my child to 39 weeks making me a mommy no matter how I birthed him. He was born exactly at 39 weeks, March 4, 4:42 AM.

When I found out I was pregnant I was scared, nervous, and happy. A few things happened along the way that made the pregnancy difficult and labeling me a high-risk. One thing that was even more frightening was the fact that I had to have a C-Section. I was induced because of Gestational Hypertension and was no longer dilating past 5 cm. The whole experience was a blur. I was so numb and exhausted from being up for over 48 hours that I didn't even realize what was really happening when they came in to take me for my C-Section. I hardly knew what was going on. From what I was told afterward, I had been in labor so long that I had begun to develop an infection and fever. If I had stayed in labor longer it would have become extremely dangerous for me and my child.

I remember floating by my boyfriend who looked like a giant marshmallow because he was dressed head-to-toe in white and down a bunch of halls. The next thing I knew I was being pulled off my bed onto a table as they prepared me for a C-Section.

I wasn't as scared at that moment as I would have been if I wasn't so numb from the medications they gave me to dull the pain. The contractions from being induced have proven to be more painful than the contractions of a natural birth.

I could feel everything after that, and thankfully it didn't hurt. I could feel the blade go across my skin from hip-to-hip and I could feel them stretch the incision open to remove all my intestines to get my precious baby out.

Yes, for those of you that didn't know, they have to remove your insides to remove your baby! That's why afterward they come into the room to feel your belly. They need to make sure everything is in place and let me tell you, that pain is awful! I don't even know how to describe it.

I remember the guy who gave me the epidural standing by my side and I remember my boyfriend sitting by me on the left. The guy on my right looked down at me and told me to get ready for it, they were going to take my baby out in a minute. He told me it wouldn't hurt, but to brace myself for what I would feel next. I squeezed my boyfriend's hand as they pulled my sweet child from my belly. I gasped for air when it happened because it had felt like my baby had been sucked from my belly by a giant suction cup. At that moment my boyfriend disappeared and I began to panic so I grabbed on to the guy that was standing on my right. He could only hold my hand for a minute before he left my side, then my boyfriend was back, and that was when I saw my baby. If I hadn't been so numb and out of it, I knew I would have cried the first time I saw him and held him. Someone at that moment took a few pictures for us which I cherish so much. My boyfriend disappeared again to go with our child while they began to stitch me up. I could feel them stitching me up with disposable stitches, which in a way still haunts me. I began to feel cold and shake uncontrollably. My arms, hands, chest, and chin shook violently and the harder I tried to control it, the harder I shook. When they were done I remember saying about three times that I felt like I was going to puke and asking for a blanket. That was the last thing I remembered until I held my son for the very first time. I was so very tired and felt so weak. He was a big baby, but felt so small in that moment. I remember holding him for a minute and then I blacked out.

I was in and out of it for the next day or so, making it impossible to feed my son. When I was finally able to stay awake for a longer period of time, they had me get up to go to the bathroom. That first time was awful. The medications had made it so that every time I sat up or stood the whole room around me spun. So when I was making my way to the bathroom I felt so nauseous and knew I was going to puke. I asked for the bucket as I continued to hobble towards the bathroom. My boyfriend was standing by waiting to give me a kiss before he left, but I told him right before I puked to leave. I told him I loved him, he left, and right after I puked. I continued to hobble to the bathroom and puked on my way. When I made it to the bathroom I puked so hard and had to pee so bad that I didn't make it to the toilet. I'll spare you all the other details of what came after. I felt so bad for those nurses each time and so very embarrassed.

Two days later we went home. I could barely move because of the pain, and it made it so hard to care for my son. Being a new mom and recovering from a c-section was hard. The most difficult thing I have ever done in my entire life yet, I would do it all over again to give birth to another baby.

I remember crying a bunch of times because I couldn't get him to stop crying and I remember being so stressed and depressed that I had meltdowns.

So after giving my story, why do some people still think that going through a C-Section is viewed as "taking the easy way out?" Why are we told we aren't "real moms?"

People need to stop assuming that we choose to take the "easy way out" because believe me when I say it is NOT easy and I did NOT choose to have one and I bet you no one else would ever choose to. I am a better mom because of what I did and I and so much STRONGER because of it.