When I catch a glimpse of the delicate pink line at the base of my abdomen, I can’t help but feel profound gratitude.
One day, while reclining in a plush leather chair at the blow dry bar, my head resting back in the sink, I was treated to a soothing lavender shampoo. “Are you preparing for something special?” the stylist asked. I gently patted my belly and shared that I was about to welcome my fourth child the next day via scheduled C-section, and that this might be my last pampering session for a while. The women beside me paused their magazines and phones to offer their congratulations, curious about the baby’s gender (we don’t know yet) and whether this was my first (it’s my fourth).
“Four C-sections? Is that even allowed?” one of them asked. I had my doubts too, but ever since my first birth ended in an emergency Cesarean, I held onto the story of a friend’s mother who had successfully navigated four of them. As a fourth child myself, I’ve always dreamed of a large family. “Absolutely,” I replied, asserting that it was indeed possible. In that moment, I was not just reassuring her but also myself, calming my nerves and affirming: this is really happening. Tomorrow.
Of course, I would have loved a series of uncomplicated vaginal births, with healthy babies and smooth recoveries. The operating room, with its bright lights and sterile environment, was not the scenario I had envisioned for my children’s arrivals. Yet, as a parent, I’ve learned to let go of my idealized notions. When my first labor culminated in a C-section after what felt like an eternity of effort, the doctor delivered my wailing son and handed him to a nurse, who then passed him to my husband. While the medical team focused on my care, my husband cradled our newborn, marking a pivotal moment in his journey into fatherhood. They spent those first precious moments together, a tender sight that I will always cherish.
C-sections often carry a stigma as an undesirable alternative, something to be avoided whenever possible. But when I gaze at that beautiful pink scar, I feel nothing but endless appreciation. How many women in my family line, or in any family, could have cherished their children had they been afforded this option? How many would have given anything for the very operating table I once lamented? Plus, it’s a fun way to introduce new vocabulary to my child. When my three-year-old asks how the baby will arrive, I show him the scar and teach him the word “scalpel.” I’ve experienced the anxiety and uncertainty of labor, yet there is also joy in the planning, in the thoughtful goodbyes to older siblings, and the scheduled hospital arrival. For a mom-to-be already juggling three little ones, that structure brings me joy.
Summary
Embracing my journey as a four-time C-section mom, I reflect on the gratitude I feel for my experiences. From the unexpected joy of my first C-section to the unique lessons I teach my children about birth, I’ve learned to appreciate the beauty in my story. While C-sections may not align with traditional birthing preferences, they have given me the family I’ve always wanted.
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