I have said it many times:
Oliver’s birth was a transformative experience, a journey that restored my confidence and faith in my body. It was profoundly beautiful, special, and empowering, leaving me teary-eyed and warm whenever I recount it.
Pregnancy wasn't easy for me, as I developed gestational diabetes with all my pregnancies, making the experience physically and mentally taxing. With Oliver, managing my diabetes became particularly challenging, leading to the decision to bring forward the caesarean. I was fortunate to have an incredible maternity team, including my supportive colleagues, guiding me through this journey, for which I am forever grateful.
In the final weeks of my pregnancy, I gathered the courage to discuss the possibility of a 'gentle cesarean birth' with my obstetrician. After thorough research, it seemed like the obvious choice for me. We had an extensive discussion about my preferences, outlining what I wanted and didn't want:
Dimming of lights in the operating theatre to create a less clinical atmosphere.
Placing ECG monitors on my back or side to facilitate easier skin-to-skin contact.
Staff using hushed voices to maintain the magic.
Slowing down the birth process to mimic a vaginal birth, aiding the baby's adjustment and fluid clearance from the lungs.
Delayed cord clamping.
Assistance with initiating breastfeeding.
Respecting and supporting the golden hour after birth.
My consultant listened attentively, assuring me that she would accommodate these requests if medically possible and safe for both me and the baby. This made me feel empowered, supported and heard—this was essential for me.
The night before the caesarean, anxiety and nervousness naturally crept in. Rory and I shared a simple yet special dinner at the hospital cafe. Before the birth of Isaac, we went out for a lovely family meal and this is something that I recommend to everyone who knows they are having an elective caesarean the next day. We couldn't head out to a restaurant this time so the hospital cafe was the next best! Sleep that night eluded me as the anticipation of meeting our baby and the prospect of recovery weighed on my mind.
At 7 am, I was transferred to the labour ward for observation due to slightly low blood sugars. Meeting the theatre team, I felt a mix of emotions, knowing that soon I would be holding my baby.
Entering the operating theatre, I was greeted with a flurry of activity, yet introductions were made, and I immediately felt at ease. As the spinal anaesthesia took effect, I lay there, grinning with excitement at the thought of meeting my baby all be it incredibly anxious and nervous.
As the consultant began the operation I lay there breathing steadily and felt heard, supported and safe. There was a good amount of pulling and tugging which is a very odd sensation. Finally, I felt the pressure at the top of my tummy and I knew this meant that my baby would be here any minute. The drapes were lowered and I witnessed the birth of my baby, guided out gently with delayed cord clamping. Unfortunately, it became very apparent that Oli was struggling with his breathing so he was taken from me for the paediatric team to check him over and then onto the neonatal unit. I felt a mix of emotions—upset that immediate bonding was disrupted yet knowing it was what my baby needed.
After about half an hour, we were all finished, and I was wheeled down the corridor to recovery. The magic toast that everyone talks about was produced and Rory and I nervously awaited an update on how Oliver was doing. After what felt like an eternity the neonatal team rang to say that Oliver was stable and that we could go and see him.
I was wheeled out of the labour ward and down to the Neonatal unit on the bed and I cried big fat happy tears when I saw Oliver in the incubator and I could reach in and hold his hand. Over the next 24 hours, I regularly hand-expressed colostrum and took it across to Oliver.
The next day Oliver was stable enough to have skin to skin and it was so special to finally hold him, feel his warmth and smell that magical newborn smell.
After 4 days we were all discharged home, beginning life as a family of five.
I'm immensely grateful to the maternity team for facilitating such a positive and healing experience. The birth was not just surgery; it was a powerful, beautiful, and cathartic journey.
I know that caesarean births are now being facilitated like mine above as the ‘normal ’ thing to do by the vast majority of obstetricians. Lowering the drapes helped me make the mind-body connection. Small changes made a huge difference.
As women, we know our bodies and we know our hearts. We know our mental and emotional well-being, what will help us and what won’t. With this knowledge, we are empowered to make decisions that are right for us.
Giving birth via caesarean is major abdominal surgery but it is also the day you give birth, the day you've been looking forward to for the last nine months. You still have so many options and a voice even during a caesarean, remember this. And if you need my support I am always here.
Steph xx