I found out at 28 weeks that my little “Rascal” was breech. They said that she’d most likely turn around, but to just keep in the back of my mind that it was a possibility I’d need a caesarean. My instant reaction was one of horror and determination. There would be no circumstances where I would have a caesarean! I am a strong woman and I will push her out regardless!
But as the weeks rolled on and I did my research, listened at pre-natal classes and came to the conclusion that the safest solution would be to have a caesarean if bub remained breech. To make it more complicated, she was frank breech, meaning her legs were straight up with her feet in her face. It would be like trying to push out a wedge. It wasn’t fair of me to risk her life and my own health by insisting I have a natural birth. I had time to make myself ok with a caesar. As each check up came and went, and Rascal was still happy sitting up in my uterus, I actually began to like the idea of having a planned caesarean. I reached 36 weeks and she was still breech. They tried to turn her with an ECV but she didn’t want to, and to be honest, at that point, I would have almost been disappointed if she had! I was completely at peace with my decision to have a caesarean. At 37 weeks I went in for a routine check up with the obstetrician and she jumped online to book in my caesar. There was no availability for 39 weeks, so she booked it for 38 weeks, which was the next week!
I had not been expecting that at all and I was excited and stunned in one emotion! I walked out of the car in a daze and rang my husband, who was excited that we knew the date. I went to the car and pushed the unlocking button but nothing happened. I pushed it a few more times and then tried to get in with the key itself before I realised it wasn’t my car. I hadn’t parked here! I was so frazzled, I was trying to break into someone else’s car! In my defense it was the same make, model and colour as mine, but funny none the less!
I was still working as a primary teacher at this stage so I worked for the rest of the week as planned and then went on maternity leave. Both my parents and my husband’s mum arrived a few days before the date. I called the hospital the day before and confirmed that everything was good to go. I rang a close friend and told her that I was having bub the next day. She was over the moon!
The day dawned. I had slept well and felt calm and excited all at once. We got up and got ready. I straightened my hair so I’d look ok for after-birth photos. We had to be at the hospital at 12 noon so we left about 11.45 am and casually arrived. My husband and I came in our car and the parents came a few hours later to wait, or should I say pace, in the waiting room. We were put in a joint room to wait for surgery prep. It was a public hospital as there was no other option where I lived. While I went to surgery, though, my family moved all our stuff out into a private room.
We were wheeled towards theatre and I can’t remember feeling worried. I was just willing time to move forward because I knew I would meet my daughter today! I remember being surprised at the amount of people in the room and wondering if they were all there for this surgery. As it turned out, they were! I walked over to the surgery table and sat up. They were taping things to me and I leaned forward to have the spinal put in. It took literally forever. I remember asking my midwife if the guy knew what he was doing or if he was a student. She assured me that he knew what he was doing but it didn’t give me any relief because it literally took about 15 minutes. Once the anesthetic was in and working, they called my husband in. He came and sat near me and they started straight away. I said to the chief anesthetist that I could feel something and she assured me that unless I felt like screaming in pain, it was nothing as they had already done all the cuts. I was like, ok then!
Over the next few minutes, I had the weirdest sensations and feelings flowing through my body. Pressure like you wouldn’t believe, pulling and tugging to the point where my whole body was moving. The anesthetist said it was because she was breech and there was nothing to hold onto! No handle on her bottom! Just before I thought the weirdness would get to me and I would start to holler hysterically, they pulled out my little lady. They dropped the sheet and we had our first look at the little lady. My first thought was, “Yay! It’s really a girl!” because they never give 100% confirmation. My second thought was “How in the world did she fit in there!” She looked far too big for my medium sized bump!
She was taken to a little table and Daddy went with her. We had been warned that her legs might be stuck up around her face due to the frank breech position she had been in but my husband looked over and mouthed, “her legs are down!” So much for that! She made no noise for what seemed like forever, but Daddy also assured me she was breathing and moving around. When she finally did decide to shed a few tears, I also burst into tears with relief because, for about a minute, I couldn’t see what was going on and wasn’t sure if she was ok. She didn’t cry for long and they wrapped her up and brought her over to me. I gazed at her in a dazed way and looked up at my husband. “She’s very cute,” I remember saying in amazement. I’m not sure what kind of monster I was expecting but obviously that was amazing to me! We sat there gazing at her and watching as she peeked out one eye, assessing the weird world she now found herself in. We discussed whether the name we had picked suited her and decided it did. They stitched me up and Daddy went on ahead with Rascal to wait in recovery.
I came out and got to hold her properly for the first time without my hands tied to a table! The midwife asked me if I wanted to try and feed her and I eagerly answered in the affirmative. As she was positioning Rascal towards my breast, she was explaining to me that most babies don’t know what they are doing and to be patient with her. Mid sentence, Rascal decided she had had enough of being placed in front of her dinner and not given any, so lunged forward madly, latched perfectly and started sucking to her hearts content. The midwife was stunned and said “this one obviously does know!”
At this stage we didn’t realise how much time had gone by. The poor grandparents were sitting in the waiting room and had been for hours. They had no idea if everything was going well or not. It came time to leave recovery and head back to my room. We passed the waiting room on the way to my room and I waved at Mum and Dad, while my husband went in to tell them it was a girl and what her name was. They gave us another half an hour to settle then came in to see her. When I look at the clock in the background of photos, the poor things waited for literally 4 hours. I didn’t realise it took that long!
Rascal continued to eat well. I developed mild stinging of the nipples and expressed for a few feeds on two occasions while in hospital. This prevented further damage and I was able to continue to feed with no problems after leaving hospital.
The only negative thing about my time in hospital was one night with a particular midwife that shouldn’t be a midwife! She was very negative about my ability to be a mother and provide for my baby, basically saying I was doing nothing right. Fortunately I am a confident person so, although it shook me initially (it was 3 am and I had been a mother for two days), it only took a few kind words from a different, lovely midwife to make me feel fine again. I saw the mean midwife several days later on a different shift and she looked away guiltily so I think she must have known she was out of line!
My days in hospital were fantastic as my awesome parents and lovely mum-in-law were able to come in every day. They would come in after breakfast and take Rascal in her little cot for a walk to a sitting room. I would sleep for a few hours and then they would bring her back to be fed. The afternoon we would all hang out together or Daddy would just stay to spend time with us. I stayed for five days and was ready to go home to my beautifully cleaned and organised house. I had fun settling in with all the stuff we had bought for Rascal when she was an unknown entity.
Overall, I had a very positive experience bringing Rascal into the world. It wasn’t how imagined at the start of my pregnancy but I was happy with it and even more happy with the outcome. I do not feel, in any way, that I have been robbed of a “proper” experience and believe I made the right decision for myself and my daughter. In the future, I would try to have a VBAC but if I can’t for any reason I will be happy to have another caesarean. I’m just happy that I have an adorable daughter to love and cherish!
Libby :)
But as the weeks rolled on and I did my research, listened at pre-natal classes and came to the conclusion that the safest solution would be to have a caesarean if bub remained breech. To make it more complicated, she was frank breech, meaning her legs were straight up with her feet in her face. It would be like trying to push out a wedge. It wasn’t fair of me to risk her life and my own health by insisting I have a natural birth. I had time to make myself ok with a caesar. As each check up came and went, and Rascal was still happy sitting up in my uterus, I actually began to like the idea of having a planned caesarean. I reached 36 weeks and she was still breech. They tried to turn her with an ECV but she didn’t want to, and to be honest, at that point, I would have almost been disappointed if she had! I was completely at peace with my decision to have a caesarean. At 37 weeks I went in for a routine check up with the obstetrician and she jumped online to book in my caesar. There was no availability for 39 weeks, so she booked it for 38 weeks, which was the next week!
I had not been expecting that at all and I was excited and stunned in one emotion! I walked out of the car in a daze and rang my husband, who was excited that we knew the date. I went to the car and pushed the unlocking button but nothing happened. I pushed it a few more times and then tried to get in with the key itself before I realised it wasn’t my car. I hadn’t parked here! I was so frazzled, I was trying to break into someone else’s car! In my defense it was the same make, model and colour as mine, but funny none the less!
I was still working as a primary teacher at this stage so I worked for the rest of the week as planned and then went on maternity leave. Both my parents and my husband’s mum arrived a few days before the date. I called the hospital the day before and confirmed that everything was good to go. I rang a close friend and told her that I was having bub the next day. She was over the moon!
The day dawned. I had slept well and felt calm and excited all at once. We got up and got ready. I straightened my hair so I’d look ok for after-birth photos. We had to be at the hospital at 12 noon so we left about 11.45 am and casually arrived. My husband and I came in our car and the parents came a few hours later to wait, or should I say pace, in the waiting room. We were put in a joint room to wait for surgery prep. It was a public hospital as there was no other option where I lived. While I went to surgery, though, my family moved all our stuff out into a private room.
We were wheeled towards theatre and I can’t remember feeling worried. I was just willing time to move forward because I knew I would meet my daughter today! I remember being surprised at the amount of people in the room and wondering if they were all there for this surgery. As it turned out, they were! I walked over to the surgery table and sat up. They were taping things to me and I leaned forward to have the spinal put in. It took literally forever. I remember asking my midwife if the guy knew what he was doing or if he was a student. She assured me that he knew what he was doing but it didn’t give me any relief because it literally took about 15 minutes. Once the anesthetic was in and working, they called my husband in. He came and sat near me and they started straight away. I said to the chief anesthetist that I could feel something and she assured me that unless I felt like screaming in pain, it was nothing as they had already done all the cuts. I was like, ok then!
Over the next few minutes, I had the weirdest sensations and feelings flowing through my body. Pressure like you wouldn’t believe, pulling and tugging to the point where my whole body was moving. The anesthetist said it was because she was breech and there was nothing to hold onto! No handle on her bottom! Just before I thought the weirdness would get to me and I would start to holler hysterically, they pulled out my little lady. They dropped the sheet and we had our first look at the little lady. My first thought was, “Yay! It’s really a girl!” because they never give 100% confirmation. My second thought was “How in the world did she fit in there!” She looked far too big for my medium sized bump!
She was taken to a little table and Daddy went with her. We had been warned that her legs might be stuck up around her face due to the frank breech position she had been in but my husband looked over and mouthed, “her legs are down!” So much for that! She made no noise for what seemed like forever, but Daddy also assured me she was breathing and moving around. When she finally did decide to shed a few tears, I also burst into tears with relief because, for about a minute, I couldn’t see what was going on and wasn’t sure if she was ok. She didn’t cry for long and they wrapped her up and brought her over to me. I gazed at her in a dazed way and looked up at my husband. “She’s very cute,” I remember saying in amazement. I’m not sure what kind of monster I was expecting but obviously that was amazing to me! We sat there gazing at her and watching as she peeked out one eye, assessing the weird world she now found herself in. We discussed whether the name we had picked suited her and decided it did. They stitched me up and Daddy went on ahead with Rascal to wait in recovery.
I came out and got to hold her properly for the first time without my hands tied to a table! The midwife asked me if I wanted to try and feed her and I eagerly answered in the affirmative. As she was positioning Rascal towards my breast, she was explaining to me that most babies don’t know what they are doing and to be patient with her. Mid sentence, Rascal decided she had had enough of being placed in front of her dinner and not given any, so lunged forward madly, latched perfectly and started sucking to her hearts content. The midwife was stunned and said “this one obviously does know!”
At this stage we didn’t realise how much time had gone by. The poor grandparents were sitting in the waiting room and had been for hours. They had no idea if everything was going well or not. It came time to leave recovery and head back to my room. We passed the waiting room on the way to my room and I waved at Mum and Dad, while my husband went in to tell them it was a girl and what her name was. They gave us another half an hour to settle then came in to see her. When I look at the clock in the background of photos, the poor things waited for literally 4 hours. I didn’t realise it took that long!
Rascal continued to eat well. I developed mild stinging of the nipples and expressed for a few feeds on two occasions while in hospital. This prevented further damage and I was able to continue to feed with no problems after leaving hospital.
The only negative thing about my time in hospital was one night with a particular midwife that shouldn’t be a midwife! She was very negative about my ability to be a mother and provide for my baby, basically saying I was doing nothing right. Fortunately I am a confident person so, although it shook me initially (it was 3 am and I had been a mother for two days), it only took a few kind words from a different, lovely midwife to make me feel fine again. I saw the mean midwife several days later on a different shift and she looked away guiltily so I think she must have known she was out of line!
My days in hospital were fantastic as my awesome parents and lovely mum-in-law were able to come in every day. They would come in after breakfast and take Rascal in her little cot for a walk to a sitting room. I would sleep for a few hours and then they would bring her back to be fed. The afternoon we would all hang out together or Daddy would just stay to spend time with us. I stayed for five days and was ready to go home to my beautifully cleaned and organised house. I had fun settling in with all the stuff we had bought for Rascal when she was an unknown entity.
Overall, I had a very positive experience bringing Rascal into the world. It wasn’t how imagined at the start of my pregnancy but I was happy with it and even more happy with the outcome. I do not feel, in any way, that I have been robbed of a “proper” experience and believe I made the right decision for myself and my daughter. In the future, I would try to have a VBAC but if I can’t for any reason I will be happy to have another caesarean. I’m just happy that I have an adorable daughter to love and cherish!
Libby :)
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