I had a c-word. That’s right people- I didn’t bring my daughter into the world in a beautiful bath tub in my house with my birthing playlist humming in the background while my doula held my hand and coached me to push. I lay back and felt little to nothing while my expert surgeon cut through seven layers of my bodily tissue and watched as he not so gently pulled her into this world for me.

We were fortunate- we organised health insurance early because I have endometriosis and we wanted IVF cover in case we needed it. I’ve known since I was 19 that fertility might be a journey for me. Every gynae I’ve ever had has warned me to have kids young if I wanted them at all. My husband and I weren’t prepared to have kids before we were 30- but then, where we come from that is young to start having kids. 

We did all the fertility checks. I did my AMH levels (people refer to this as an “egg count” which is not really accurate), I did scans, I checked all my other hormone levels and my husband had his swimmers checked. The results concluded that I had an endometrioma in my right ovary and my left ovary had some scar tissue from my previous surgery.

My doctors could not tell me for sure how these findings might affect my fertility but statistics suggest that a woman with endometriosis may have up to 50% more difficulty conceiving at my age. Because there was no way to know for sure, my gynaecologist essentially said you don’t fix what’s not broke, so have at it and come back in a year if there is no success. So we tried.

We got off the pill in January and downloaded all the monitoring apps. (If anyone needs an app, I really enjoyed Flo. I still use it now, post-baby.) By April we weren’t pregnant so we tried ovulation sticks next. These are a charming device that you pee on daily after your period ends until it smiles at you eerily when you’re most likely to be fertile. Then you have a lot of sex and hope. And hope. 

We did this for six months and then had another appointment with our gynaecologist to discuss next steps. She said to keep trying and then schedule surgery to remove the endometrial tissue in the hopes that this would improve my fertility. (Stats show it improves fertility by up to 50% for women with endometriosis). So we went back to trying. 

We got lucky; we were pregnant the following month. The cycles of hope and sadness finally came to an end and then we just had hope. We waited the daunting 12 weeks and did the scan at 7 weeks that confirmed a little heartbeat. We were quietly thrilled and then just watched the clock. We did our NIPT, and waited for our final trimester 1 scan. We had a healthy little baby girl growing and we couldn’t be happier. 

Weeks past and we engaged our OB and kept up with my blood work and scans. Our little girl was healthy but repeatedly measuring too small- 10th centile, then 1st centile, then 3rd centile. We started weekly scans from 22 weeks to keep track of her size and make sure she wasn’t falling off the charts.

My husband was convinced I wasn’t eating enough, that I was working too hard, and that I wasn’t resting enough. I took more supplements and I ate and ate and ate. I even stopped work early, at 32 weeks.

She stayed small but continued to show every other indication of health. Happy, healthy and tiny, my OB decreed. He wasn’t worried. But as first time parents, we were. We were constantly in scan rooms. Words like IUGR were floated. We had no idea why she wasn’t growing. We just accepted that our OB was confident in her health and did whatever we felt like was within our little bit of control. Mostly I just ate a lot of pasta.

35 weeks rolled around and we had a new small issue- she was upside down and not budging. I had a small baby bump and likely wasn’t giving her enough room to spin. Or maybe she was just a very comfortable mini miss in the spot she had nestled into. We went through all the options- trying to flip her (ECV), attempting a natural delivery anyway (this was not advised but was an option) or just waiting and booking an elective Caesarian in case she didn’t turn before my delivery date. I chose to book the Caesarian.

This is when I discovered the wealth of BS that comes with saying you’re having an elective Caesarian. First of all- elective in my case was a loose term. The risks involved in trying to turn my daughter externally weren’t particularly appealing.  They included inducing early labour in a very small baby, causing hemorrhage for me or my baby and a lost of other complications. These just weren’t risks I was willing to take at that stage. I didn’t even pause to consider natural labor with a breech baby because no, thank you. 

 I know some babies are delivered fine breech. Many people felt compelled to encourage me to try for a natural delivery. I also know of women whose babies had permanent brain damage from insisting on a natural delivery with a breech baby against medical advice. I don’t and didn’t care how I delivered my daughter. I just wanted her out safe and well. I looked at the risks and I looked at the statistics. With a breech daughter, a c-section was the safest option and I took it.

I found it difficult to explain to people why I was having a planned caesarian. Every time I was asked about her delivery and I explained that it would be a delivery by c-section, I had to explain my rationale. No, I wasn’t too posh to push, yes I had had my options explained to me, no it was not just because my doctor was from the private health sector and therefore he must have been pushing me to plan a caesarian, and no I didn’t feel like I was missing out on something because I wasn’t going the “natural way”. 

Here’s what I wanted to say repeatedly: Even if I didn’t have a medical reason to consider a caesarian it was nobody’s god damn business what I chose to do with my body. 

The one thing that I found the most appalling was that the majority of the negative feedback about my choice came from other women. Not just women who tend towards conservative views- it was often from self-proclaimed feminists. 

First of all, there is no situation in which I invite other women to comment on my body. Second of all, why is this still a problem in the world? 

The “natural way” is a way that women have given birth for millennia- this is correct. Women also died in childbirth at alarming rates for millennia. And infant mortality rates were also obscene. And contraception didn’t exist. And women didn’t have the right to vote or drive or wear pants. Why is it that so many women that are pro all these other rights suddenly become archaic about  your method of childbirth? 

Rant aside, I didn’t and still don’t care how I gave birth to my daughter. She’s alive, and she’s amazing and she’s here. And I got to make her and she gets to call me Mama now. I adore her and I think she adores me. And really, above everything else- that’s all that will ever matter. We’re both here and we’re both happy.

P.S. Before anyone feels the need to remind me that I can always try again with my second, I don’t like my odds with a VBAC. I will probably have another Caesarian if I choose to have a second. Or a third. Or an imaginary fourth. Yes, really #tooposhtopushandproud