The Parenting Corner: C-Section 101

C-Section 101

What to Expect

As you may know, my son was born via C-Section on November 1, 1995. I was (and still am) a single mom, and very frightened. I felt quite out of control! Here is a list of what happened to me, and if you are pregnant, may happen to you. I know that procedures vary from hospital to hospital (and sometimes from doctor to doctor), but I hope this will give expectant mothers a taste of what happens if you're one of the 23% or so women whose pregnancies end in surgery. Good luck!

I was told. Not only that I was going to have a C-Section after nine hours of labor, but many other interesting facts, like what could go wrong. My obstetrician first spoke to me about the dangers (and paradoxically, about the safety) of having surgery. He told me exactly what he was going to do, and what it would feel like. Soon after, the anestheisiologist came in and doubly reassured me. He told me he would be standing by my head the whole time.

I got a catheter. No, it was not the most comfortable thing in the world!

I got an I.V. Not fun, but not too bad. After all, I had been having contractions for hours and hours.

I got a lemony drink. This was to coat my esophagus in case I threw up. I thought, "I won't throw up. Why are they giving me this?" Little did I know....

I got to wait. The doctor gave me a drug to slow down my labor, and went to see patients at his office. While my surgery was necessary, it wasn't an emergency.

I got to walk. To surgery, that is! The contractions were starting to come closer together (again), and I was not enjoying my little stroll.

I was given a spinal. This was a little scary. I was having womb-splitting contractions and the anestheisiologist was sticking a little needle in my back. I was immediately laid down before the drug kicked in. I remember my feet were a little crooked, and when I tried to straighten them out, I couldn't. First feelings of not being in control.

The doctor arrived. Finally.

The surgery began. First, the doctor drew his cutting line on my abdomen, and soon I heard the dreaded word: scapel. I felt some distant tugging and pulling, and some interesting sounds ("Suction!"). My blood pressure dropped, and my I.V. was opened all the way. My mom was quite worried, because she is a nurse, and you know how "impartial" they are towards their own family. Soon, the anestheisiologist leaned down and said, "They're going to start pushing the baby out. You're going to feel like an elephant is sitting on your chest." Boy, was he right! I saw pictures later of one of the nurses practically on top of my helpless body, pushing on my fundus with all her might.

The baby was born. As his first cry echoed through the sterile operating room, I felt tears stream down my face. I wasn't to see him for a few minutes, and in the meantime I vomited. The surgeon was putting me back together, and it triggered my "puke reflex," as the other doctor called it. I was miserable, and when the nurse said, "Do you want to see your baby?" I frantically waved because I was still throwing up. I soon got to see him, and someone (who? I have no idea) pulled off his little cap so I could kiss his warm lovely head. Oh, how beautiful he was!

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