ricevermicelli (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ricevermicelli) wrote2011-07-15 04:21 pm
ricevermicelli) wrote2011-07-15 04:21 pm
Excuse Me While I Have A Controversial Opinion
I have some friends who are pregnant right now. Periodically, they will say things like "we're hoping to avoid a c-section if at all possible," or "of course we'll do everything we can to avoid a c-section..."
And it's their birth. Their body. Their baby. Their call. So totally not my business, except for how it makes me want to go into a song and dance routine entitled "Ceseareans! I Can't Spell Them, But They're Not That Bad!"
I have two children. One was a nightmare of a vaginal delivery. One was a c-section, from which I recovered uncommonly fast and well. The upshot is that, if I were doing it over, I would do a little *less* of the everything that could possibly prevent a c-section.
I had a posterior baby, who got stuck behind my pubic symphesis. My epidural failed. I had a fever. It took five hours of pushing and a vacuum extraction to get him out. At the time, I was really grateful to the OB who facilitated this. Knowing what I know now, I wonder what the hell we were all smoking. The only thing going well during the last few hours was the baby's heart tones.
Stop before that point, okay?
After labor, I hemorrhaged, which is unsurprising, because long labor is a risk factor for that kind of thing. (In one of life's unpleasanter funny contradictions, so is very short labor.) Based on the records and my memories of recovery, I lost less blood during the hemorrhage that preceded Hotspur's arrival than I did while they tried to get the placenta out after Danger Lad! was born. I had a lot of unpleasant tearing, some of which has been significantly harder to deal with, emotionally and physically, than the scar from my c-section.
I don't know what the right point is for anyone but me, but whatever that point is, don't let anything push you past it. It's not a maternal failure. It's not a worse way to be born. It won't harm your emotional connection with your child. Sometimes it's a better choice, not just because there's no longer an alternative option.
And it's their birth. Their body. Their baby. Their call. So totally not my business, except for how it makes me want to go into a song and dance routine entitled "Ceseareans! I Can't Spell Them, But They're Not That Bad!"
I have two children. One was a nightmare of a vaginal delivery. One was a c-section, from which I recovered uncommonly fast and well. The upshot is that, if I were doing it over, I would do a little *less* of the everything that could possibly prevent a c-section.
I had a posterior baby, who got stuck behind my pubic symphesis. My epidural failed. I had a fever. It took five hours of pushing and a vacuum extraction to get him out. At the time, I was really grateful to the OB who facilitated this. Knowing what I know now, I wonder what the hell we were all smoking. The only thing going well during the last few hours was the baby's heart tones.
Stop before that point, okay?
After labor, I hemorrhaged, which is unsurprising, because long labor is a risk factor for that kind of thing. (In one of life's unpleasanter funny contradictions, so is very short labor.) Based on the records and my memories of recovery, I lost less blood during the hemorrhage that preceded Hotspur's arrival than I did while they tried to get the placenta out after Danger Lad! was born. I had a lot of unpleasant tearing, some of which has been significantly harder to deal with, emotionally and physically, than the scar from my c-section.
I don't know what the right point is for anyone but me, but whatever that point is, don't let anything push you past it. It's not a maternal failure. It's not a worse way to be born. It won't harm your emotional connection with your child. Sometimes it's a better choice, not just because there's no longer an alternative option.