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N's Birth Story: Planned C-Section With Anxiety - Malene Jorgensen

N’s Birth Story: Planned C-Section With Anxiety

This birth story is the one for my second child. It is much different than my first birth, which is documented here. In summary, it was an emergency c-section and I suffered from internal bleeding for months later. It would take me over a year to get a sustainable pregnancy again after my first birth.

In January 2018, we decided to try for baby number 2. Throughout 2018, we would get pregnant three times and suffer three miscarriages. We would enter fertility treatments to get pregnant and in February 2019, we learned we were expected number 2. This pregnancy would stick, but I was skeptical throughout the entire 9 months because of our previous losses.

My birth story: A Planned C-Section

As I describe in my book, “We Need To Talk About Miscarriage: My Story of Loss, Grief, Acceptance, and Fertility Treatments,” I had a planned C-section. The reason was that my first pregnancy wasn’t a successful vaginal birth and my son literally got stuck. To avoid that same situation and because N was measuring much larger, a scheduled c-section appeared to be the best option.

But let me just tell you one thing – having a scheduled c-section is much worse than a normal birth, at least in terms of anxiety. With my first birth, I didn’t have time to worry. I was in pain and I was excited to meet the little one and become a mom for the first time. However, with this second birth, I was so worried all the time. I had so much time to think about the birth, the complications, what could go wrong and so forth. As it turns out, the nurses agreed with me. Knowing in advance is definitely not more relaxing!

Wait, wait, wait – oh my god, Margaret

On the morning of the C-section, we showed up at the hospital at 6:30 am. Our surgery was scheduled for 9:30 am. When we showed up, the nurse asked if we were Margaret. Nope. Not Margaret. Already, I knew we had a delay. if Margaret wasn’t here and they were anticipating her, we were going to be delayed.

Sure enough, we were delayed. We waited, and waited, and waited. They had a few blood tests they had to do, and they talked to us about various pregnancy things. We were in a teaching hospital, so some interviews were repeated by students. It was all good, it helped the time go by faster. We didn’t go in until about 11 am. However, we were under observation right next to the phones, where we learned that Margaret had a drug problem. Apparently, she was a drug addict and there were concerns about the baby’s health.

While we did start off with An “oh my god Margaret” attitude because we thought she had overslept, we did leave thinking how lucky we were to be able to give our child a loving home.

Terrified right before surgery

Right before the surgery, we walked to the room. The doctors went over everything with me while my husband waited outside. Right before the anesthesiologist was about to administer the drugs, they all rushed out of the room. Apparently, there had been an emergency with another birth and we were left wondering how long it would take before we got to meet our little boy.

Luckily, they were back within 15 minutes, all smiles and excitement. And they were ready to proceed. However, the sudden need to go help someone in distress did terrify me. That put everything into perspective. This could also go very wrong for us.

The surgery lasted a long time and he was born about half-way through. I had lots of complications, including the fact that my bladder had grown stuck in scar tissue from my first birth. in addition, I had suffered from more internal bleeding and they had to cut n’s life supply to get to him. Suddenly, things had to move fast.

But he was born and things went great. While the doctors fixed as much as they could with me, I could adore my son – and all of his hair!

The hospital was like a spa date

Of course, the medicine wore off and I soon found myself in pain. But the hospital stay felt more like a spa date. I got to relax, I slept a little and with N, we just had to practice breastfeeding. And that we did for 48 hours, as we recovered. Now, returning home to my toddler son was another challenge. That’s my birth story with N, a bit more planned but with more anxiety.

You can read more about my personal experiences on Little Munchkins.

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