I’ve given birth three different ways and there is no ‘right’ way

By Maxabella

I know that many mums put a lot of thought and feeling into how they will want to have given birth. They prepare a labour plan, take birthing classes or employ a doula. They spend many hours researching birthing facilities, pain relief, recovery and medical teams. This is all very good indeed. The more educated we are to face labour, the more comforted and relaxed we will most likely be about the whole process.

The thing is, we don’t really know what’s going to happen during labour. We can read all the articles, we can talk to all the mums. We can imagine and dream, but we can’t ever really be prepared. Every labour is completely unique, and what turns out to be a painful, traumatic experience for one mum may be just all in a day’s work for another. Our individual pain threshold, our anxiety levels, the level of care we receive, the support we have around us, the availability of pain-relief options … so many factors will affect how we feel about our labour.

Believe me, I know.

Having had three completely different labour experiences with my three children, I know for a fact that nothing during labour is certain. From the emergency c-section with my firstborn through the vaginal birth with my second, to the planned c-section with my third, I’ve experienced the lot. Here’s how I felt about giving birth every which way.

Emergency c-section

Nobody plans to have an emergency c-section, so it was one area of labour that I didn’t read a single thing about. I skimmed over the ‘caesarean section’ chapter of What to Expect because I wasn’t on the hit list for a planned c-section, and at the time I doubt I was even aware that an emergency c-section was even a thing. It’s remarkable how much you can miss when you think something is not your thing. My advice with labour is to assume that anything could become your thing.

I laboured with my posterior-position son for just over 40 hours. It was its own kind of hell – a strange world of hideous pain and relentless exhaustion, but somehow manageable. There was a rhythm to it that I instinctively settled into, and the pain, though horrendous, felt somehow positive and strangely uplifting. There was an intense feeling of togetherness with my baby. I felt connected and proud, and I tapped into this solid connection to move through the pain.

My baby became agitated around the 36 hour mark and I was given an epidural ‘just in case’. It was then that the concept of an emergency c-section was first presented to me and I was lucky to have a kind midwife who was prepared to answer all my questions. While my baby’s heartbeat jumped along beside us, she explained where they would cut me, what it would feel like, how long it would take and what it would mean for my baby. I felt comforted and prepared and I made a note to myself to remind all future pregnant women to read up, just a little, on emergency c-sections, just in case. So please, do that.

At 40 hours it was clear that my son was struggling, and we were raced to the operating theatre. I quickly lost my status as a warrior mother and became an urgent patient instead. I think that was the hardest thing about the procedure – throughout the labour my baby and I had been working so hard together to meet each other, and suddenly we were reliant on everybody else to see us through.

The operation was straight-forward. I could feel a weird tugging sensation, but no pain or true feeling. There was a curtain between myself and the operation. My husband was present when our son Max was pulled out, and the experience was an emotional and deeply satisfying one.

The main thing I felt was exhausted. An emergency caesarean generally doesn’t come after a gentle labour, so I was knocked around by both the labour and the operation. Despite having felt an intense connection to my boy throughout my pregnancy and labour, I now felt oddly removed and distant. This was not helped when after a quick cuddle we were immediately separated while I was in the recovery room.

Bonding with Max – that rush of fierce joy and love – took about the same time as my recovery from the operation, around a month. Until then, I felt responsible and caring and nurturing but not intensely bonded. I don’t know if feeling in pain and lacking mobility from the c-section contributed to how I felt, or whether it was a first-time mum thing or … I’ll probably never know for sure. My gut instinct told me that having the caesarean might have contributed to how I felt about my baby. Turned out I was wrong, but more on that later.

Vaginal birth after caesarean

I fought hard to have a VBAC. My daughter is only 17 months younger than my son, and at the time the general consensus was that it was too soon after my emergency caesarean to attempt a VBAC. But when my pregnancy continued to be textbook-perfect, my obstetrician agreed that a VBAC could be attempted.

The main difference between a VBAC and a standard vaginal labour is that you’re monitored much more closely. Luckily for me, this didn’t matter one bit as Arabella was born vaginally after a smooth seven-hour labour. Two things made it smooth: one, this time I had an epidural early in my labour (after about four hours, when I was 8cm dilated); and two, I had no preconceptions about how my labour would progress. A c-section, fine, a vaginal birth, fine, forceps, fine, whatever. In fact, I was so relaxed I had a little nap just before I gave birth.

My recovery from this vaginal birth was 10 times easier than recovery from my c-section. I had stitches due to tearing, but even this couldn’t keep me down for long. The experience of being able to cuddle and breastfeed my moments-old newborn was easily the best experience of my life. Buoyed on by happy hormones and lots of snuggles, I was up and at ‘em within 24 hours. I was feeling fresh and well-rested and ready to tackle being the mum of a newborn and a 17-month-old (eek!).

Planned c-section

Despite clocking up two extremely easy pregnancies with my first two babies, I had a troubled pregnancy with my third. All was well until my third trimester, when she somehow kept getting her head stuck under my diaphragm. At 37 weeks my obstetrician started having trouble turning her when she became stuck. He started to discuss the possibility of needing to plan for a c-section due to a breech baby. At this stage, having spent the better part of eight weeks worrying about my upright little munchkin, I was just happy to have her safely delivered into the world, however it was recommended.

Not going into labour was a really strange feeling. I honestly could not get my head around the fact that I was booking in to have a baby and voila, a baby would appear. I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was somehow wrong to bring my baby into the world before she was ‘ready’. I spent hours googling “does a baby trigger labour?” (yes, they think) and “is it a bad thing not to go into labour?”(who knows, doesn’t matter).

I took a lot of that stress into the operating theatre and had a worried, anxious kind of birthing experience as a result. Remember how I mentioned that my baby girl was stuck? The ‘mild tugging’ I experienced with my son’s c-section was not what I experienced with Lottie’s. I could feel them pulling and turning and it was really quite a gruesome sensation.

Overall, I found Lottie’s planned c-section birth to be the most daunting birthing experience of all. I missed the feeling of working together with my baby to deliver her into the world and, despite the warm and welcoming medical team, I found the experience clinical. That said, recovery was much faster and more comfortable than after my first c-section, when I was exhausted and mentally drained. This time, I felt fresh and cared for and happy, and once I found that the bond with her was instant and unshakeable.

Three births, one mum, all different

Years later, all I know is this: you can give birth through the sunroof or the vag, through a shield of drugs or a wall of pain. The only thing that matters in the end is the safe arrival of your baby or babies.

The decisions and choices that we make along the way (or are made for us by medical professionals), all amount to the same thing in the end: a lovely, darling, gorgeous, needy newborn who you have your whole life to bond with and love.