Hi everyone! Today, this is another article that will have a bit of a dual purpose: 1) to share my experience with you and 2) to keep a record for me, black on white, of how things went for my delivery, now that it’s still fresh in my mind. That’s also the goal of this blog, to be a little bit of a diary, where I keep a trace of life moments, important things… so here it is, after writing my pregnancy story (feel free to read it if you’re interested in knowing how my 9 months of pregnancy went), here’s my birthing story. I must warn you, it’s long, hihi.
My birthing story
A long-awaited and much-feared day (a curious mix)
I knew the exact date of my delivery. I invite you to reread my pregnancy story for more details, but basically, because of a problem with placenta placement (too low, too close to the cervix and therefore blocking the exit through natural ways), I had to give birth by scheduled caesarean section.
So I knew the date: December 7, 2020. Something very special, to know the date on which you are going to give life. At the same time a bit magical and exclusive, because I could choose it. And 7 is my lucky number. I had the privilege of being able to choose a day in this week (my 39th week), and the 7th was one of them… so great! Knowing your date is also somehow reassuring, because you know when it will happen and you can prepare yourself. But it’s also at the same time really scary, because you tend to count the hours, literally, before “going through it”, which is a very, but very special feeling.
The few days/weeks before the D-day, I was torn between two feelings: the impatience to be there, to finally meet my little baby from whom I had felt the little kicks, the hiccups, breathing for months… with whom I had already built a strong relationship, singing the same lullaby every day, talking to her, feeling her little movements… And on the other hand, with every minute that passed, a feeling of getting closer to the fateful moment, to this great wall of China, to this so enormous challenge of the operation that I could not avoid. I, who had never had an operation, nor had I ever been medically treated, was terrified by this Caesarean section. And it was so far from the birth that I would have liked to have ideally (natural, without an epidural), even if of course you can never control anything. In short, a strange emotional mix. And then the moment came. After many meditation sessions (I used the hypnobirthing method that I recommend you a lot to visualize the moment, to accept it better, to control it better), after crying, after moments of total zenitude as well as moments of almost panic, the preceding evening arrived.
On December 6, 2020, it was time to go take a shower with a special shower gel and shampoo made for before surgery. Even that shower, I was afraid of. So medicalized, disinfecting your body like that. It made the procedure even more real. But I did it, and it turned out to be OK. Then I went to bed, after a big hug to my darling and some breathing exercises. Oddly enough, against all expectations, I even managed to sleep quite well.
Then on the morning of December 7, 4:30 am, the alarm clock rings. Yes, very early, because I had to take a new shower with the same disinfectants on the morning of the caesarean section and we had to be at the hospital at 7 am, so we had to leave around 6:15 am. I wanted to have time. Everything went quickly. In no time at all, we were in the car, and voila, we were at the hospital.
OH MY GOD… The D-day. In a few hours I was going to live this long-awaited, feared moment. But I was also going to meet the love of my life. For weeks I wondered what state I would be in that morning, the morning of December 7, 2020. If I was going to be in a state of panicky fear, of total zenitude, completely crushed, or super excited… then finally, I was … simply. I was both zen and at the same time worried, happy, excited, and also really focused. As if my body and my brain were in autopilot mode, I had prepared myself so much for this day… and there I was. It was time to take action. I was going to do it! I was going to bring out my tiny baby to this world. And it was going to happen like it was going to happen, but I was going to do it. One thought that helped me a lot was to focus 300% on the fact that in a few hours I was going to be a mommy, and I was going to hold her in my arms . And strangely enough, I wasn’t that panicked. It was already a good start.
Once we arrived at the hospital in Lund, Sweden, we immediately went up to the second floor. The “BB-avdelning” or maternity floor. We have two main hospitals in Malmö: the one in Malmö and the one in Lund (which are in fact the same hospital concept, which is called “SUS”: Skanes Universitet Sjukhus or “University Hospital of Skåne”) and depending on the available beds it can be one or the other.
A midwife came to see us and installed us in our room. A room alone! Great! I was expecting to have to share it with another mom because that’s what I was told. Apparently, I am told, for C-sections they try to give single rooms. Well, great!
Simon, because of the covid, could unfortunately not spend the entire stay in the maternity ward with me. But we already knew that. We had accepted this restriction, which had upset us a lot during the pregnancy, but because of the pandemic, it was the rules… nothing could be done to change it, so “c’est la vie”. Normally, if everything goes well, people stay between 48 and 72 hours after a caesarean section in Sweden in the maternity ward (6 hours for a vaginal birth)… yes yes… the maternity stays here are very short! So, we told ourselves that it wouldn’t be too long.
My Simon would therefore have the right to attend the C-section (Phew, because between May and September – again because of the Covid, this had not been authorized, and ONE week after me, I’m not kidding, because of the 2nd wave, the law came back into effect! My God, I really got lucky! Phew!).
After the birth, he could spend 2 hours skin to skin with our little miracle (while I would be in the recovery room), then we would have 2 hours together 3. Then unfortunately, after these 2 hours, he would have to leave and could not come back from the whole stay.
My sweet Caesarean section
Once in the room, everything went very fast. It must have been around 7:15. That morning, there were three scheduled Caesarean sections. I was the second. So I was told that I would get it done between 9:00 and 10:00, depending on how long the first one was. I was also told that it could be later, if, for example, an emergency C-section came in between.
But it all went by very quickly. Around 7:20 a.m. a nurse came to give us our clothes for the operation: a dressing gown for me and a surgical suit for Simon. We put them on and settled down quietly for a few moments. Then, the nurse came back to put in the urinary catheter for me (classic in case of caesarean section to avoid the patient having to go to the bathroom – impossible since once anaesthetized you can’t get up). I was apprehensive about the catheter because I had read/heard that it hurt. In the end, I felt almost nothing, it was very fast (barely a second). Which means that every person is different and you really shouldn’t go on the Internet!
Then I went back to my room. A few moments later, my surgeon and her assistant came to introduce themselves. They explained to me how the procedure would take place (even though I already knew about it because I had already had appointments at the hospital where I had been well informed). Then they asked me if I had any special wishes/questions. I had written a birth plan, which we read together. It basically said:
- that I was very scared of this procedure because it was my first anesthesia / operation
- that I really wanted it to be as Zen as possible, that no one should show too many signs of stress even if a problem occurred, because I would panic
- that I would have liked relaxing music, and someone to accompany me / calm me down as much as possible
- that the part that stressed me the most was the placenta delivery (and the risk of bleeding due to my pregnancy complication, placenta previa – read it again in my pregnancy story) and that if everything went well in the end, that someone should not hesitate to keep me informed, because it would make the moment much sweeter for me
- that I wanted to try to put my little baby to the breast as soon as possible during the procedure and hold her against me skin to skin.
I didn’t know if everything would be respected. But the surgeon read it carefully and told me that they would do their best with the surgical team.
Then it was not long before 9:00 a.m. came. And… we were picked up. It was time. Phew. Wave of terror, but at the same time… the body and the brain still on “autopilot”. Okay, let’s go!
We were escorted to another floor, walking together. I was holding my urine bag attached to the urinary catheter… I don’t know, I felt a little… diminished. It was a very strange image. We went downstairs and were greeted in an operating corridor and told to wait. We sat down and had to wait for about 5-10 minutes. My heart was pounding. In a few minutes we would be there. There, I won’t hide it from you, in this cold, empty corridor, on our chairs, the two of us alone with my darling, during this last straight line of unbearable waiting, I collapsed. I cried a lot for a few minutes and then it was over. I pulled myself together.
Then someone came to pick us up and guided us to the operating room. Boom boom, boom boom, my heart was beating so fast…
I arrive in the room and the first thing that strikes me is the number of people present. Maybe 8 or 10 people, in blouses, wearing masks. Wow, that’s a lot of people. I had been warned, during my appointments with the anesthesiologist a few days earlier at the hospital, that there would be a lot of people, but that it was normal, that each person would have a role. But wow, once on the spot it was impressive. A nurse anesthetist with big blue eyes grabbed me by the hand, sat me down, and knelt down in front of me. She would stay with me during the whole operation. Simon was also in front of me, holding my other hand.
Each person present said hello to me, and introduced him/herself, told me his/her first name and role. I really appreciated even if I only listened to half of it, because I was a little bit like in another world… concentrated and at the same time… absent. There was relaxing music. They had respected this request that I had written in my birth plan. Just adorable. Just like the nurse anesthetist who was there with me to reassure me at all times.
I’m told that we’re going to move on to anesthesia. A mega-dosed epidural, basically (not the same doses as for a vaginal delivery, really a big dose that puts the whole lower body to sleep from the chest to the toes). At that point, I break down again. Impossible to hold back my tears. Moreover, as I was looking right and left in the operating room, I had just seen a surgical table covered with instruments: scalpels, etc. I could not stop crying. How awful! I don’t want to scare anyone, and I’m sorry if I did. But that’s the reality. I don’t know if it’s normal that I could see this table or not, but I saw it. And it made me think of the movie “hostel” (if you saw it). As if it was filled with instruments of torture.
Then I heard the staff say in Swedish “oh, poor thing, she’s terrified”, so they turned the music up and the nurse in front of me gave me a huge hug and made me breathe. She told me that we had time… that we wouldn’t start until I was ready.
Honestly, the staff has been great! Listening, caring… I couldn’t have dreamed better. Thank you Lund Hospital.
Then I pulled myself together and we were ready to go. So I had the epidural put in. At my request, first a local anesthesia with a mini needle (hardly felt anything). And then the “real” one. It was painful, but not that painful in the end. I expected worse. The only downside is that it took a little time. Apparently, my vertebrae are mega small and very tight so the anesthesiologist had a hard time finding the right place. It may have taken 5-10 minutes… and it was over. In the end not so bad at all!
I was happy, because I knew that from now on I would feel nothing. I’m told I’m going to feel a warm sensation that starts from my chest and goes all the way down to my feet. Yes, indeed I quickly did. Not unpleasant, I even made a joke, that it was super nice, because I was cold and it warmed me up. We all laughed. (Don’t ask me where I found the strength to be funny haha. I told you, I was on autopilot!).
They laid me down, placed the surgical drape (this sheet that hides the lower part of the body so that nothing can be seen) and I couldn’t see anything anymore. Here was the moment I feared so much. I knew they would open soon. But in the end, against all odds… I wasn’t afraid. Simon and I were looking into each other’s eyes the whole time and all I could think of was: “in a few minutes I’m going to see my baby”. And indeed, it all went very fast. 3 minutes after, maybe, maximum? “Ouaaaaaa”, we heard a scream. WHAT A JOY! I cry so loud, I cried with joy. My baby was out. (And I am crying as I am writing it to you again, this moment is so magical. It’s out of time. It’s unbelievable).
They lowered the operating drape to show her to me. My God, she was so small. I asked if I could take her, they said I would have her in just a few minutes, just long enough for them to give her first care. Unfortunately little Élise was having a little trouble breathing because of fluid in her lungs (normal during a caesarean section, because baby’s lungs are not “squeezed” when passing through the vaginal route) so they had to take her into the next room for a little respiratory assistance. But we were told not to worry, that this was normal and that everything was fine. I was so anxious to get her back. But I wasn’t worried (well, not too much thanks to the super careful staff once again). The staff was going back and forth between her and us every 2 minutes to keep us informed. This may have lasted 10-15 min. Everything was going well and they were counting down “your daughter will be back in 6 min”, “in 4”, “in 2” so I had something to hold on to.
Meanwhile, the step I was so afraid of went as smooth as silk: the delivery of the placenta. I was afraid that it would not come out whole, that it would bleed, that I would need a transfusion… finally it came out in 30 seconds and intact. I had a minimal loss of blood, really nothing at all (150ml while even by vaginal delivery without placental complications. bleeding up to 1L is considered normal). And I was immediately informed of all this. Everything went very well, except for some numbness in the arms (a little weird, but not so rare apparently) and scratching sensations all over the body (also a side effect of the anesthesia). But, geez, that was it. For me, after the placenta, it was OK. And everything went so well. My sweet caesarean section…
Thank you life. I was therefore quietly sewed up when we were waiting for our little wonder, who, after a few minutes, came back. Ohhhhhhhhhh…. what an incredible happiness.
Someone put her on me. Little sweetheart. I was amazed. She was so beautiful. How had I achieved this exploit of making this little being in my belly? Once again, my wish was respected and I was immediately helped to put her on the breast. She sucked right away. Bravo, my little girl! So happy. The only thing is that because of her little breathing problems and the time it took to bring her to me, I only had her for a few minutes (5 min max) before the end of the caesarean section, which must have lasted about 30 minutes. But no big deal. 5 min of happiness, and soon, in a few hours, a whole life to enjoy her…
Then my sweet Cesarean section came to an end. Everyone congratulated us. I thanked them with tears in my eyes. I thanked them for giving birth to my daughter so gently, for being so professional, for keeping all 3 of us healthy. It was over. We were alive and happy all 3 of us. Time for happiness!
The never-ending recovery room
Now that the surgery was over, it was unfortunately time for me to go to the recovery room for about 2 hours and to be separated from my little family. Simon would go back to our room to do skin to skin with little Élise, and I would have to wait for the anesthesia to pass before I could join them. Then I imagine that it is also a moment when they check that everything is fine on my side ( blood pressure, no weird reactions, etc., etc.).
One moment that affected me (not to say a little ” traumatised me “) was just after the operating room, alone with the doctors, when I was moved from the operating bed to the rolling bed in which I would stay afterwards. I didn’t feel anything anymore. It was like I was paralyzed from the chest down. I have an image in my head that I will never forget, when they carried me to change beds: my legs were like Chamallows. Soft and dead. Super, super weird. I didn’t feel whole. A strange feeling, and a slightly traumatic vision, I must say… In the end, I wouldn’t have believed it, but everything that scared me the most, in order: the delivery of the placenta and the bleeding, the incision of the caesarean section, and the anesthesia… all went super well. On the other hand, the anesthesia itself, which had not worried me beforehand, was finally the most difficult thing to go through.
Once in the recovery room, it was supposed to take about 1 to 2 hours to regain the sensations in the lower body. For me, it took… 3h. INTERMINABLE. I was so eager to meet my 2 loves again. But I had to be able to move my knees, legs and feet. Which was impossible for me until about 2h30. I had no other solution than to wait.
But once again, I was with two health professionals, two women, really lovely. We talked and stuff, so it was fine. Really great staff in this hospital. I also had my cell phone with me so I was able to send the first pictures to my family, my friends, the ones that Simon had taken during the procedure when baby Élise was on me.
I was able to call my mom a little. I was able to get my Simon on the phone to tell me that everything was fine with baby Élise, even though he had his hands full so he couldn’t stay long. I was able to put on a little bit of makeup (I had thought of taking my powder and mascara, hey, to look a little pretty for the first selfie when I would come back from the recovery room). It went slowly, but it passed. I was finally able to move my toes, my knees, and it was time for me to get back to my 2 loves. YESSSS!
The reunion with my two loves
When I came back to the room, we were so happy all 3 of us. Finally, all the hardest part was behind us. Little Élise was just adorable, with her little diaper and her little bonnet. Really, I was falling in love. Simon had just spent 3 hours with her, a special moment that I think he will never forget. He told me when he arrived: it went quickly, it’s been 30 minutes? Heu… no no no my love, it’s been 3H!!!!! Haha, he was so absorbed by his daughter, and also a little “shocked” (in the good way of course! But for a dad it’s at birth that they really realize) that his notion of time had… stopped.
And I took her on me… she breastfed. She made cute little noises. How wonderful! Then on top of that, Simon was able to stay longer than he should have been able to, according to Covid restrictions. Normally it was supposed to be 2 hours after the recovery room. In the end, I was in the room at 1pm and nobody came to ask him to leave before 8pm. So lucky. So we took advantage of it. A first day all three of us, to discover each other, to enjoy every moment, quite simply.
Then he went home, and I was getting ready to spend my first night with my baby. Then, if everything went well, one more day and night and Simon could come back to pick us up.
An eventful stay at the maternity ward
I would therefore, if everything works out well, spend the evening here with my baby. Then the night. Then the day after, then another night. And the next morning Simon could come and pick us up.
After Simon’s departure on the first evening, I spent some special moments with my baby. Little feedings, hugs, first moments & learning from the midwives around me (how to change a diaper, etc.) and lots of time to admire her.
Then, quite early, and after a dinner served by the hospital, I went to bed. I was of course exhausted, but at the same time overexcited about everything that had just happened. It was normal. Then, even if my little happy baby was sleeping soundly (apparently it’s normal that a newborn baby sleeps a lot during the first 24 hours because the birth makes them very tired), I slept very lightly and woke up every 5 minutes. Probably because of all the adrenaline, and also because of the maternal instinct which is always on alert to check that our little baby is doing well, breathing well, etc..
Then in the middle of the night, the craziest thing happened. I was more or less asleep and suddenly a smell of smoke woke me up. I wondered where it came from, if it was a candle, a birthday… I was stunned. And 30 seconds later, the fire alarm went off. Damn, but there was a FIRE!
So I quickly got dressed, I dressed Elise, put on my shoes, my coat and I went out into the hallway to get ready to evacuate. I saw all the midwives panicking, telling me that we didn’t know where the fire was and that we were waiting for the fire department, so for the moment, everyone had to stay in their rooms, but be ready to go out at any time. Scary! And me, only a few hours after my intervention, I might as well tell you that getting dressed, putting on my shoes, getting up, wearing Élise, etc. wasn’t easy, because I was in a lot of pain! Crazy!
It all took about an hour and a half, going back and forth between my room and the hallway to keep me informed of what was going on. At one point I had to go to the end of the hallway and stand maybe 30 minutes, waiting to evacuate. I was complaining about my pain to the midwives, so they gave me a wheelchair. They apologized and told me that it was the first time this had ever happened in their entire career (haha… what were the odds that it would happen to me on the FIRST night after the birth?). I was afraid that standing like that right after a C-section would scar me badly. I told a midwife. She told me that on the contrary, the sooner I got up, the better. That she was really sorry that it hurt and that she could bring me more painkillers (and also bring me the chair as she did), but that I should not worry about my recovery, because on the contrary, it was good for me. Considering my spectacular recovery afterwards, I think she was indeed right. And in retrospect, I see the fact that I was forced to get up so early as an evil for a good.
Finally, after about an hour and a half, it all came to an end. The firefighters located the fire in the basement of the hospital, we were able to go back to our rooms without having to evacuate, and we were able to go back to sleep. With even more adrenaline in my body, as you can imagine, the night was very, VERY short.
In spite of all this, when I woke up, I was swimming in happiness. I was probably under the influence of hormones: oxytocin, adrenaline, dopamine… I was high on the happiness of being a mom and having my so little, so adorable baby against me. Then, on the other hand, this second day was simply crazy. Élise, for starters, started evacuating all her meconium (the excrement that babies accumulate in the belly during pregnancy), and I had to change the diaper every 10 minutes. Plus, she was at the breast 24 hours a day, because she was “passing her milk order”. All babies do this at the beginning, when the mother doesn’t have any milk yet, but just “colostrum”, this very thick, yellowish milk, and only a few drops. This is normal, and it is a stage of breastfeeding before the milk supply arrives around the 4th day. But… it can be painful and really exhausting for the mother. I will write an article dedicated to breastfeeding and my experience, in a separate article, because it’s quite a subject! Natural, breastfeeding, certainly, but not obvious, I would say.
With Élise at the breast all day long, diapers every 10 minutes, doctor’s visits, etc., it was impossible to rest. Because of Covid, Simon was not there to help me and yet his help would have been so precious to me… Getting up every 10 minutes to change the diaper was really painful and exhausting. That, combined with the lack of sleep, the fatigue of the operation, the emotions… the pain… a visit to the pediatrician and once again having had to be out of my room for an hour holding my baby… I was simply EXHAUSTED. My condition quickly deteriorated as the hours went by on that second day, and I was simply tired. I called a midwife near to tears and asked her if my partner couldn’t come. It seemed so silly to me to have this big room all to myself (with two beds, one of which is normally for Daddy), to struggle so much on my own, and to have Simon at home, separated from us, who would so much like to help and who felt so powerless. Besides, he was with us the day before, anyway… they saw that he didn’t have covid. But no, she answered. She said she knew it was silly, but that “she didn’t make the rules”. I cried from fatigue, I couldn’t take it anymore.
The midwife was used to seeing moms crack from fatigue, and told me that this was normal, especially without having the dad with me. She suggested taking Élise for an hour or two just so that I could rest. She told me that they did this every day, that it didn’t make me a bad mother. But that it would allow me to take a little nap that would make me feel so much better. Especially after an almost sleepless night because of the fire. I accepted, a little reluctantly, but I told myself that it was important for me to recover a little bit of strength after all I had just gone through, for myself and for my baby, so that I could take good care of her. The midwife brought my little wonder, turned off the lights and I closed my eyes… I tried to relax.
And then something crazy happened, once again. While focusing for the first time on ME, since the day before (because until then, I hadn’t had time to think about myself…), I realized something: I was still numb in my legs, my buttocks, my hips, which felt like “asleep”. My arms didn’t feel “normal” either, I felt them “less” than usual. Even in my face (right ear, forehead…) I felt some numbness. I wondered if this was normal. As a result, I could not fall asleep… because I was really starting to wonder if it was normal? I started to panic, and the numbness just got worse and worse, because I was noticing it more and more. So I called the midwife.
She came into the room with my little Élise and told me “ah you didn’t make it more than 30 minutes without her”, but I told her that that wasn’t really the reason. I explained to her how I felt. I could see from her face that no, it was not normal. She asked me questions, and when I told her that my face, etc. was numb, the most terrifying moment of my life began. She did the tests for a stroke (coordination tests, asked me what day it was, what was my name, etc.). Oh LA LA LA LA the anxiety… I actually thought I had just had a stroke too. Oh God, I panicked, I grabbed my phone, I called Simon, I told him that maybe something bad was happening, that he should come to the hospital right away… I was TERRIFIED.
Then no, no stroke. Phew. But the midwife still called a doctor (an anesthesiologist surgeon, I think), to check me. They checked for some really scary things, like if there wasn’t a spinal cord injury, for example. Luckily, they couldn’t find anything wrong. I was on the phone with Simon the whole time… what a panicky moment! I saw a few doctors and the verdict was (fortunately): “nothing to report, but we are waiting to see how it evolves and we will re-examine you tomorrow morning”. I was going to spend the night like that, alone, with my limbs numb, waiting tomorrow morning to see if I had a problem? Taking care of the baby and with all my fatigue? No, I was going to go crazy. Given the circumstances, I begged them to let Simon spend the evening and the night with us. In the meantime, he had arrived in front of the hospital anyway. And given the circumstances, they accepted. Phew. The “nightmare” of the last 2 hours ended and Simon came in, hugged me and reassured me. He really has a priceless ability to support me and reassure me in any circumstance. I am so lucky. Thank you, my love for your unfailing love and support… Without you, I don’t know how I would manage.
He talked to the doctors and they told him they thought it was a side effect of a painkiller I had been given (morphine based). Not too much to worry about, and of course we were going to stop the painkiller and see if it would pass. The night was very special because I still had my numbness and it was again difficult to sleep with all that, but having Simon with me, so positive as always, was very reassuring. And we spent the night. He was finally able to help me out a little bit with the diapers, etc., and Élise slept well so we were able – somehow – to rest a little.
In the morning, I still had the same sensations. But a surgeon came in, did a series of check-ups, and there was still nothing to report. Phew. So it was either morphine or the fact that I was lying in a bed that wasn’t very comfortable. They assured me this time that there was nothing to worry about, and that it would pass. They also told me that I would be able to go out today if I wanted to and go home. Great, because with all of this I was wondering if I would have to spend several more days without Simon here… So happy! We were going to be able to go home, and start our life together 3. Time for happiness!
My sweet, sweet baby
From the moment we got home and up to the time I’m writing this article (almost a month later), everything has been nothing but happiness! Élise is an adorable baby, easy, who cries little, who eats well, who sleeps well… we cover her with love and she gives it back to us so well. She is a little marvel, a bundle of love and she brightens up our daily life. Here again, I will write a special article about our first month with our baby to tell you all about it and our life as happy new parents. Sometimes a little tired, hihi, but fulfilled!
As for my side effects, as soon as I got home, I felt better right away. The stress of the hospital and of loneliness was gone. Being in my element had a real therapeutic effect. And, with the effects of morphine fading away, by the same evening (we had left the hospital in the morning and I hadn’t taken morphine since the day before noon), I gradually regained feeling in my limbs.
The next morning I woke up feeling like new! What a relief! The days that followed were truly happy days: everything was behind me. The caesarean section, the side effects… it was all over. All that was left was the positive: feeling much better and having my cute little baby, her warm little body stuck against me all day long during feedings, hugs, and other moments of sharing. And to see this tiny baby in the big protective arms of her daddy… what a blessing!
The very first few days I had a few images of the C-section and numbness, fire, etc. that came back to me and made me cry (also maybe the hormones and baby blues), but very quickly everything went away and I only kept the good memories.
Keeping only the positive from that first day of the rest of my life
In the end, in actual facts, my caesarean section went wonderfully well. Fast, without problems, and an express placenta delivery as I had dreamed of. An adorable, healthy baby and a happy dad. Side effects, yes, but in the end more fear than harm, because it was nothing at all. A dad who was able to stay with me a lot more than he should have (due to covid restrictions) and a hospital staff that was just great. I am extremely grateful for all this. Thank you life!
And last but not least: a fantastic recovery!
Indeed… it seems that, as the midwife at the hospital said, the fire of the first night was “an evil for a good” (because I was forced to get up 45 minutes right after the operation). Because 3 days later, I was already getting up without any problem, I was walking around in the apartment, vacuuming, etc..
We were able to go out for our first stroller walk 3 days after the caesarean section. And at +5 days, I didn’t take any more painkillers. Since then, I have recovered really well, my scar is already rather beautiful (fine and discreet) and I have almost no pain. Maybe one or two tightnesses from time to time, but nothing more.
I will also try a special Caesarean section scar treatment from now on (since it has been 1 month postpartum and my scar is well closed, dry and without crust) so I will also talk to you in a dedicated article after my use (60 days).
So here we go for my birthing story. Long article, right? It took me a whole month to write, but I really wanted to do it. Thanks to those who had the courage to read it all. And have a good day! As for me, I’m heading back to my little family to enjoy every second together.