First and foremost, let me just start off by saying that if anyone ever says that women aren’t strong, they either have never met one, or they are just plain cruel. And of course they’ve met one, so let’s assume it’s the latter.
As I’ve said many times before, being pregnant is hard, but actually giving birth, that’s a completely different monster! No matter if it’s a vaginal delivery or a cesarean section (c-section), it’s always emotional, serious, and important. I can never understand how one mother can give another mother flack based on the way their baby was delivered. It’s just not right to me.
C-section mamas already feel like they were basically robbed of the bonding and labor that traditional vaginal delivery mamas get to experience and there is no sense of someone else giving them a hard time on top of it. But, that’s another blog post for another time.
ANYWAYS, I had a c-section, and like ANYONE who undergoes that procedure, I was beyond terrified. Actually, terrified doesn’t even begin to describe the type of fear that resonated inside my bones while I was on that table being wheeled to my demise. I really thought I was going to die. I wanted to literally reschedule right as we were heading to the operating room. I’m not joking one bit. I was literally trying to formulate how I would look at the doctor and say, “I’m not ready, can we do this another time?”
Though I was extremely scared, the nurses and doctors were phenomenal at TRYING to make me comfortable and reassuring me that Xavier would join me after the spinal/epidural. The only problem was that I had already started panicking silently in my head.
“Okay, this is the end Lord. Please keep my husband safe and comforted and please work a miracle for our babies.” I started praying every 5 seconds in my head. I just knew I was going to die. I remember looking around on the elevator and closing my eyes, expecting to drift off into the darkness right then and there.
The double doors opened to the bright room and that’s when I expected to see “the light”! I expected to immediately just panic to death, but of course I’m telling you the story so we both know that’s not what happened.
Let’s dive in deeper to my story.
When I was rolled into the operating room, Xavier looked me in my eyes and said, “I’ll be right here, then I’m coming in.” I tried with all my might to show no signs of fear on my face, but I’m sure he knew I was freaking out. How could he not? They were about to CUT me open for Christ sake.
As they rolled me closer to the actual operating table, my heartbeat began to increase. I was so nervous I couldn’t process what seemed like hundreds of nurses and doctors introducing themselves to me. I couldn’t process anything, really. They helped me sit up and ordered me to scoot towards the edge of the table where I would be given the spinal/epidural combo. After scooting down the bed, a nurse walked over to me and told me to lean forward and hug her.
“Lord, why did she have to say it like that?” I immediately panicked. “Why would I need to hug her?” “Would it hurt THAT bad?” But of course I hugged her. As the doctor approached, I looked back and saw the HUGE needle, and let’s just say I wasn’t fearful anymore. I was MORTIFIED.
But the epidural/spinal wasn’t at all as bad as I thought it would be. I definitely was over-thinking everything, and that numbness kicked in almost instantly.
I felt nothing. And that freaked me out too, because as you may or may not know, the epidural procedure can actually paralyze you if done incorrectly or if you’re not still. I twitched a couple times, so not being able to feel my whole lower body left me in a panic.
After laying down on the operating table completely numb, they told me to spread my arms out in a crucifying manner (no, really!) and then Xavier walked in the room. THANK THE LORD.
He was awesome at keeping me grounded. I have terrible anxiety, so I thought I couldn’t breathe (LOL). But he told me frequently that I was, in fact, breathing and everything was going well. I couldn’t see past the blue cover they that had up, so after 2 minutes I asked “When will you start the c-section?”, my doctor chuckled and replied “Honey, we’ve already started.” I was in shock!
I can’t say for sure how long the whole surgery lasted. I’d say maybe 30-45 minutes total. But my twins were out in about 15-20 minutes. The stitching up was what took the longest.
As I heard my daughters cry for the right time, it was a miracle in itself. I immediately started crying. (I mean that cliché, ugly cry that mothers do so well!) My angels were out, the neonatologist brought the babies over to me, and I was able to touch my baby girls hands and see how beautiful they were.
They were tiny and brown, and they had a head full of hair. We created the most incredible thing in the world. Two lives.
I didn’t care if they were conjoined.
They were the most incredibly beautiful babies I had EVER seen in my whole life.
I sat there sobbing on the table, being stitched up, and staring at them.
It wasn’t as bad as I thought.
After the actual C-section was done, I was wheeled into another room where I was laid in bed unable to move, because I was still numb.
After about another 30 minutes, I began to regain feeling in my leg. I stayed in another room for about two more hours, waiting and thinking about my babies, who were in the NICU.
Nurses came in frequently to check on me and to “massage” my uterus (which hurt like HECK)!
After being wheeled into the final room that I would be fully recovering in, I was taught how to use the breast pump and was instructed to try to pee. I wasn’t able to potty just yet. It actually felt like I had forgotten how to push (sorry if I’m being so explicit)!
All in all, I was able to get up and barely move around the first day. Two days post-op from my c-section, I had the catheter removed, and was refusing narcotic pain medicine. The only thing I took was the Motrin. The pain management was hard, but I powered through it and was able to move around easier every day!
The only bad experience I really had during all of this was a reaction to the morphine. I was VERY itchy. I had scarred up my whole body. That was really the only real problem that I encountered. Other than that, I was very happy with how everything went, and if I ever have more children, I will be delivering at the same place, with the same doctor!