I never took the decision to request a csection lightly. I had my reasons for wanting one - I wanted to know with a fair degree of certainty what my experience would be like, I wanted to reduce the already small chance of a catastrophic outcome for my baby, I wanted to protect my pelvic floor, I wanted to avoid an emergency csection and the risks associated with that, and I wanted to keep the girly bits I had largely as they were - for they were mine and I was comfortable with them. I didn't particularly fear labour pain (although I certainly do now), as I could not conceive what labour pain was like. It was my body, my choice and I decided c-section.
I breathed a big sigh of relief when I secured a date for the surgery.
Then, I arrived and fasted and I got bumped....
No worries, it's not like I was in labour.
And then bumped again...oh well, I still wasn't in labour.....AND then I was....
The c-section didn't happen. An epidural didn't happen. Fentanyl and gas. 2nd degree tears. Upon birth, my daughter needed resuscitation and Narcan.
The experience haunts me to this day....
I could have handled surgery, I would have been over surgery by now. Instead every now and again it hits me like a steam engine. It's a terribly depressing thing to know that choice, particularly choice on a matter so personal is an illusion. I have no confidence I won't (if I decide to have another child), be there again.
But isn't it worth it, to have a healthy child?
I would give my life for my child....but it's disturbing to think that my autonomy as a person, my ability to say my body, my choice could be so readily violated - in the absence of any medical justification to be deprived of those services. It's revolting to know that such services exist, and that as a result of some sick game between the BCMA, the anesthetists, the ministry of health and VIHA, timely access to medical care was denied.