A miracle in my life. History of spontaneous childbirth after cesarean section. How I gave birth to a child: my story about caesarean section 

High degree of myopia: cesarean or spontaneous birth?

I learned that I was going to have a caesarean section while still a schoolgirl: starting from the 5th grade, my vision was rapidly deteriorating and the ophthalmologist who observed me immediately warned both me and my parents about the dangerous consequences of childbirth that could occur in my case. I didn’t attach any importance to this then, but when I found out about pregnancy, I immediately began to study the question of what is safer for severe myopia (I have minus 8 in both eyes) - independent childbirth or cesarean section.

Internet sources told me that myopia, even a high degree, is not a reason for surgery. The only thing that can become a reason for refusing natural childbirth is problems with the retina of the eye. After talking with gynecologists and ophthalmologists, I learned that the Internet does not tell the truth: in addition to a bad retina, glaucoma is a reason for a cesarean section.

Glaucoma is persistent high eye pressure - a terrible disease that without therapy (and sometimes even with it) leads to blindness.

Having learned that glaucoma is an obstacle to natural childbirth, I thought hard. The fact is that in addition to grade 3 myopia, I am registered at the glaucoma center due to periodic increases in blood pressure. There are no glaucomatous changes in the eyes, the diagnosis of “glaucoma” is not worth it, but just in case they haven’t taken me off the register for 4 years now.

During the preparation for childbirth, I visited 3 ophthalmologists. One (an ophthalmologist at the regional perinatal center) categorically spoke out in favor of independent childbirth, but when I asked him whether childbirth would lead to worsening vision problems, he shrugged: “No one will give you guarantees.” The second ophthalmologist, after a comprehensive examination, replied that I should take care of my eyes, and if I was not categorically determined to have a natural birth, he would recommend a cesarean section. The third was definitely in favor of the operation due to the high minus. To sum it up, I decided not to risk it and went for a caesarean section.

Let me start with the fact that a referral for surgery is prescribed by an obstetrician-gynecologist at the antenatal clinic, in my case, based on the opinion of an ophthalmologist. With this referral, I came to the maternity hospital at 37 weeks, where I was booked in for a planned operation. The day could be chosen from the proposed dates. As the doctor explained, the first planned cesarean section occurs at 40 weeks, and subsequent ones can be done a little earlier.

The time of the operation remained unknown until recently. As a rule, a planned cesarean section is performed in the morning, but you will not know exactly what time your baby will be born until the last moment. On the eve of the operation, I went to the department of pathology of pregnant women for examination for a day. The examination consists of the following procedures:

• general blood analysis;
• analysis for blood group and Rh factor, even if it was already done during pregnancy. This is done to double-check your blood type in case a transfusion is needed;
• general urine analysis;
• CTG (several times a day);
• examination by a gynecologist on a chair;
• Ultrasound (if indicated).

After you have completed all the procedures, you are visited by the operating doctor and anesthesiologist, who talk about the progress of the operation and warn you that you should not eat or drink 12 hours before the operation. Then they tell you approximately the time - my operation was scheduled for 10 am.

The next day, an hour before the expected time of the operation, a catheter was placed in my arm - a device through which medications are passed through a vein. Half an hour before the expected birth, my husband was allowed into my room (we were planning a partner birth).

And now I’ll tell you why you cannot be completely sure about the time of the Caesarean section. If suddenly, before the operation begins, someone needs an emergency caesarean section, this person will be operated on as a priority.

First we came to the intensive care ward, where I completely undressed, threw on a transparent disposable shirt and a cap on my head, and left all my things. Then I was taken to the operating room - there were already a lot of people there (neonatologist, anesthesiologist, nurse, surgeon). I was placed on the operating table and anesthesia was injected into my spine. The anesthesia was spinal. Read more about. It was very scary, I was shaking quite a bit with excitement. Oddly enough, I did not feel any severe pain during the administration of anesthesia. Yes, the administration of the medicine was noticeable, unpleasant, but quite tolerable. After the anesthesia was administered, they put me on a table and covered the lower part of my body with a screen. It’s interesting that the operating doctor was the last to arrive, when I was already lying on the table under anesthesia. The doctor came in and the operation began.

It must be said that there was very little time for the anesthesia to take effect. This bothered me, because... I was afraid that the anesthesia would not work and that I would be cut alive. I was immediately warned: “You will feel everything, but it won’t hurt.” I still think that I was deceived: it was very painful. Despite the fact that the anesthesia has had time to take effect, the sensation of the operation is the most unpleasant, as if you are being gutted (in fact, it is).

What is very painful is when they pull out a child. This happens in the second minute of the operation, the birth occurs very abruptly (I was even afraid that his neck might be broken). They pulled the baby out - he cried, and I cried with him. I don’t know why the tears flowed: either from pain, or from anxiety, or from happiness that I heard my child for the first time. The child was brought to me, already washed, given a kiss, then taken to my husband and placed on his chest. To tell the truth, I didn’t see the baby well outwardly. Probably, if I were then asked to recognize him out of ten, I might be mistaken. But I remembered him well tactilely: his soft hair, delicate skin.

The hardest part began when the child was taken away. I felt dizzy and started to feel nauseous. I must say that the staff did not stand on ceremony with me: the doctors were unhappy that I was vomiting. I’ll quote the operating surgeon: “Well, the intestines have just been neatly laid out, now we’ll have to do it again.” They scolded me that I couldn’t lie still, that I was vomiting, they told me to breathe deeply. I tried, I tried very hard, but I felt more and more nauseous. The time they stitched me up seemed like an eternity, although only 20 minutes had passed. I felt very sick, but only vomited once - after the operation, when they were taking me to my husband.

So, they brought me on a gurney to my husband. “Congratulate your wife,” the nurse tells him. “Congratulations,” stammered the confused young father. “Kiss me, you fool,” the nurse instructed him. My husband kissed me on the cheek, and I was taken to intensive care. The newborn baby was already lying in the box next to the bed and sleeping soundly.

First of all, in the intensive care unit they fed me vegetable soup and oatmeal with water. The child woke up, they let me feed him, but almost immediately took him away with the words that I didn’t know how to feed him properly. It’s true, in the first hours you don’t really understand how to help your baby latch on to the breast.

At this time, you can already pick up the phone and call your family and tell the good news.

The first hours after a caesarean section

This is the hardest time. As soon as the anesthesia wears off, you are forced to get up and walk around the room so that there are no adhesions. Read more about. After 2-3 hours they take you to wash. You do all this while overcoming pain. It’s good if you have a bandage - it significantly alleviates the condition, but even with it the pain is very strong. The main pain goes away on the third day, much easier after a week. After 14 days the pain is no longer pain, but mild discomfort.

While I was in intensive care, a gynecologist visited me and told me about nutrition and postpartum care. It’s interesting that on the first day after the operation you can’t eat bread or cabbage, but it’s the dishes made from these products that are brought to you in the maternity hospital (cabbage soup, stewed cabbage and a lot of bread).

After 3 hours, my child and I were transferred to the ward. More than anything else in the world at this time I want to lie down, but I need to walk, walk as much as possible. And lie on your stomach so that the uterus contracts, which is also incredibly painful.

At first, the child sleeps almost all the time, so after the operation there is an opportunity to take a nap, but due to strong emotions, not everyone can afford it. I slept for about 2 hours, then I didn’t want to sleep - I was cut off.

A nurse comes in several times a day, cleans the suture, administers painkillers and oxytocin.

The neonatologist comes every day and examines the child. At this time, you can ask him questions of interest, and if he has time, he will answer.

In general, if you describe this period in the maternity hospital, everything hurts and you really want to go home, but next to you there is a little man snoring peacefully, from whom it is impossible to take your eyes off; the little man for whom you are ready to experience any pain and whom you love more than anything in the world.

, where is it better to carry out pregnancy - in a residential complex or a paid clinic and what activities should be avoided while waiting for the baby.

It's time to talk about childbirth, or more precisely about how to choose a doctor and whether it's scary to be present at your own caesarean section.

I gave birth to my first child by caesarean section (CS) - these were the medical indications. The eldest son was post-term for almost 3 weeks. This happened in 2006. It often happens that after a CS, women are capable of natural childbirth. And my gynecologist recommended that I give birth naturally. She justified this by good physical data, the positive dynamics of the child’s development, and the statute of limitations for the first birth - 10 years.

I still made the choice in favor of a caesarean section.

I can't imagine having a natural birth. I'm terribly afraid of pain.

Yes, I agree: there are more disadvantages after surgery and they are dictated by a longer recovery process. But this is nothing compared to contractions.

Search for a doctor

I looked for a doctor in a variety of ways: I searched the entire Internet, asked friends. Almost everyone recommended their doctors as the best. I carefully studied all the reviews on the Internet. I immediately paid attention to the doctors’ places of work. I studied the reputation of maternity hospitals.

Arrival at the maternity hospital

On the appointed day, my husband walked me to the emergency department. I was left to wait in line alone; I let my husband go home. A slight panic and full awareness that I was sitting in the maternity hospital, and, therefore, would soon give birth, came to me in the waiting room. There was a girl in line with contractions and her water breaking.

I had a whole range of feelings: from anticipation of meeting my daughter to fear of childbirth.

As it turned out, there were no places in the wards. This day was rich in women giving birth. I was admitted to the prenatal ward until the morning. I admit, at first I was confused by the situation: everything was so standard, state-owned, budget-funded. I couldn’t believe that in such conditions they could provide high-quality medical care...

Meeting with an anesthesiologist

The anesthesiologist turned out to be a pleasant middle-aged man. But the conversation was very dry. It was somewhat reminiscent of an interrogation with passion: “What were you sick with? Have there been any operations? How many? For what?". And then we came to the most important thing - to examining my back, apparently to mark the injection site.

And then Alexander Nikolaevich gasped, as if he saw something terrible there.

It turned out that the worst thing for an anesthesiologist is to see a tattoo on the entire back at the intended injection site. It turned out that anesthesia is strictly not given in tattoo areas. This is fraught with infection. And now I'm facing general anesthesia.

This, of course, upset me: firstly, general anesthesia is generally harmful to the body and in particular to the heart. And secondly, I have a long and difficult recovery from this type of anesthesia.

Before leaving, Alexander Nikolaevich gave me recommendations:

do not eat for 18 hours,

do not drink before 13 hours,

get a good night's sleep.

Day of surgery

They woke me up at 7:30 for tests and preparation. At 8:00 my doctor came. By morning I was already damn hungry, but I steadfastly complied with the doctors’ requirements. Although I didn’t manage to get a bit of sleep from excitement. And I decided that I would sleep afterwards.

At 9:15 I was taken to the operating room.

The anesthesiologist was glad that he would try spinal anesthesia. They found a place where there was no tattoo on the vertebrae.

It's always scary on the operating table. And at the moment when they give you injections in the spine, it’s even worse. It was impossible to move.

More and more people gathered around. Nurses, assistants, doctors, and even, apparently, graduate students. The latter stood modestly against the wall: their presence at the operation was completely justified - after all, my doctor is a professor of medical sciences. By the way, I was never against being taught, but no one asked my permission.

I've already been put to bed. The anesthesiologist gave the command to start. I wasn’t mentally prepared and kept wondering if it was really possible. The anesthesiologist was with me all the time, monitoring my condition.

I was afraid of childbirth. This fear arose in the seventh or eighth month of pregnancy - I don’t remember exactly. Very often I woke up in a cold sweat, because I had almost the same dream - it was a maternity hospital, where there were no people and no light, and in the dark I tried to find someone to help me. These dreams were not very scary, but somehow melancholy, full of hopelessness. After them, I felt kind of broken and sick... Of course, I wanted to give birth naturally, but everything turned out wrong, so my birth history is a cesarean section.

40 weeks and 4 days

The husband really asked for a child. He simply “infected” me with the idea of ​​expanding our still unofficial family. In addition, my best friend, Alenka, was pregnant. And when I first took the baby from the hands of my best friend, with whom I had eaten more than a pound of salt, I realized that I also wanted to feel like a mother. And then I gave in to my husband’s persuasion. Soon, two treasured lines on the test announced that I would soon be a mother.

From the first days of pregnancy, my husband and I decided that if there was a girl, we would call her Miroslava, but we still hadn’t decided on the boy’s name - it caused us endless debate. From the first days, I began to read various literature about pregnancy, childbirth and, naturally, about caring for small children, and tried to eat right.

The most difficult three months for me were the second, third and ninth. For the first months, everything inside me hurt and I had terrible toxicosis. In addition, already in the third month I had a small but noticeable belly. But in the last month it was hard for me to move, since I gained almost 30 kg during pregnancy, and I often had cramps at night.

In 9 months I was in the hospital three times. At week 16 there was a “threat of miscarriage” - in fact, I felt good, but my doctor didn’t like something, and he decided to play it safe. At week 23, swelling appeared in my legs - the doctor wrote an overly complicated diagnosis and again sent me to the hospital. At week 26, I rushed to the hospital with poisoning, which, in addition to all the accompanying “delights” in the form of vomiting and endless diarrhea, was accompanied by a high fever. But, thank God, everything worked out. And so, at 40 weeks of pregnancy, I began to prepare for the upcoming event.

There are different births...

According to doctors and ultrasound, my due date was set for October 18th. But this date passed and, according to the doctor’s recommendation, on October 21 I went to the maternity hospital with my things. After the examination, the doctor stated that the cervix was open by two fingers and assured that I would give birth tomorrow. At night I slept surprisingly calmly, unlike my roommates - one of them, Natasha, was especially worried about something. I often heard stories about caesarean sections, but I didn’t think it would happen to me...

Early in the morning of October 22, I was given pills to induce labor. I was afraid of childbirth, as it turned out, I was not in vain. About twenty minutes after taking this pill, I felt that my lower abdomen was starting to hurt. Two hours later contractions began, after which I was transferred to the delivery room.

We agreed in advance that we would give birth together with my husband. Now I would never agree to this. Of course, this is purely my personal opinion, but my husband has absolutely nothing to do during childbirth - it’s terribly inconvenient. While the contractions were tolerable, I could talk, joke, and answer mobile phone calls. But after a few hours, I felt that everything inside me was starting to tear apart. I felt very, very cold - I wrapped myself in a blanket and asked my husband to call a doctor. The doctor came, felt my stomach, looked at me in the chair and, frowning, left. The midwife immediately rushed in, gave me another pill and put on the system, advising me to lie down for a while. But because of the terrible pain, I could neither lie nor stand - I could only sit leaning back. The midwife offered me... a duck as a seat, which she placed on a low stool. I was terribly thirsty all the time. The doctor came in a few more times, examined me, after which the midwife “poured” something into my system. After eight hours of contractions, the doctor “finally” decided to manually open the cervix, which, as it turned out, did not want to open more than two fingers - and despite all the tricks of the medical staff. It turned out that opening “manually” is when the doctor inserts several fingers and forcibly opens the passage for the baby. Believe me, if you haven’t experienced this, it’s very painful. I remember there was a strange crunch, after which hellish pain pierced my body. At that moment it seemed to me that the doctor had torn something inside - “there” the fire just started to burn, my lower back began to ache terribly and for some reason my legs gave out. This was the first time I actually screamed. Then I just whined like a little dog. For some reason it seemed to me that just a little more and I would finally die. Then, sitting on a duck and watching the hand on the clock move slowly, my intuition told me: something was going wrong! For some reason, “bunnies” began to jump in my eyes, my head began to spin, and it became very difficult to breathe. If in the morning my baby was having fun in his stomach, now he is suspiciously quiet.

The midwife came running: she measured my blood pressure, listened to the baby’s heartbeat and immediately called the doctor. After the examination, it became clear that the cervix had completely closed, the baby’s heartbeat could not be heard, and I was having a continuous contraction, and in general I was about to lose consciousness from painful shock and could fall into a coma.

Of course, like any mother, I really wanted to hear the first cry of my child, but because of an emergency caesarean section, I came to my senses from gentle slaps in the face and the obnoxious voice of the midwife: “Mommy, you have a daughter! Do you hear? Daughter! Height – 51, weight – 3,200. What do you call it? I whispered the name I had chosen nine months ago. They took me to the ward and left me, saying that everything was fine and the baby would be brought to me tomorrow. I fell asleep, not yet suspecting that this happy tomorrow would stretch into long days of waiting.

Complications after cesarean section, or “Everything is fine!” - that doesn't mean anything yet

The next day they didn’t bring me the baby. At lunchtime, I somehow got up and, without the doctor’s permission, crawled along the wall along the corridor to look for my child. I didn’t succeed the first time - I ran into the midwife, who took me back to the room and said that the baby was fine, the girl just swallowed water and was now in a pressure chamber, and I could see her tomorrow. But in the evening I was caught again (well, I couldn’t move too fast) and returned to the ward.

Recovery after cesarean was quite difficult. By the way, walking after it is very painful – just like after any other abdominal surgery. The hardest thing was to get out of bed and then lie down - this took the most time. In the maternity hospital, it is easy to distinguish who gave birth on their own and who through surgery. Basically, if a woman walks along the corridor “sprung”, it means she naturally gave birth, and if she crawls bent in the letter “G”, it means there was a CS.

When the child was not brought to me on the second day, I began to panic, but fortunately the doctors allowed me to visit the child. I simply “flyed” along the corridor after the nurse, who waved her hand at the door marked “Neonatal Intensive Care”. The first time I saw my daughter, all wrapped in some kind of wires and lying in an incubator. In the next pressure chamber there was another child - a boy. Both babies were so small, defenseless, entangled in wires that stuck out from their heads, arms and even from their belly buttons. I thought that my baby must have decided that her mother abandoned her. From the sight of the child and from such thoughts, I naturally burst into tears and began to whisper to the little girl that “the girls are strong, they can endure everything, that she should recover faster, after which her mother will definitely take her home.” The nurses began to reassure me that not everything was so scary, after which they sent me out, telling me to pump and bring colostrum or milk - this would help the baby get better.

I made my way into the resident’s room, it turned out that Natasha was there too - the one with whom we were in the same room the night before giving birth. It turned out that the second child in the intensive care unit was her son. The neonatologist angrily exclaimed to Natasha: “Why are you so worried, that mother over there,” the doctor waved his hand in my direction, “the child has no reflexes at all.”... Somehow, as if in delirium, I got to my room.

In the evening I found out that Natasha’s baby had died. Doctors diagnosed “congenital lung pathology”, “intrauterine pneumonia” and, it seems, something else. I went to see my daughter - she was so small, quiet and calm, she sweetly smacked her lips in her sleep and moved her fingers. The doctor said that she does not accept food - she spits up all the time. On the way back, my cell phone rang. I answered without looking - it turned out that it was my husband’s grandmother, who told me that they were here to celebrate the birth of their great-granddaughter. Her next phrase stuck in my head for a long time - she referred to my child, whom I carried under my heart for nine months, and now prayed for health every second: “Well, maybe she will survive?” I hung up and didn’t answer anything and returned to the room. After 20 minutes, the body temperature rose to 40. Doctors said that the temperature after a cesarean section rises quite often, but it was too high. They tried to bring her down all night - no medicine helped. A saline solution became a panacea, albeit for a short time - it was pre-cooled in the refrigerator and then poured into a vein. Plus, they covered me with hot water bottles with ice. Then the temperature dropped to 38.8. I didn’t want to eat or drink, I didn’t even want to live. I cried all the time - sometimes I didn’t even notice that tears were running down my cheeks. I realized that the dark dreams were not in vain. Unfortunately, I didn’t tell the doctors about what made me feel bad, and we still don’t know how to provide psychological help in ordinary maternity hospitals. That is why they began to treat me - for everything. Injections, pills, systems - all of this was useless. The only thing I did was go to the child and talk about how much I love her, how everyone is waiting for her at home, and ask her to come back to me. I also tried to pump every three hours. I was forbidden to feed the baby because I was taking antibiotics, but I really wanted to establish lactation.

On the fourth day, my daughter was disconnected from the ventilator - my brave little girl heard her mother’s request not to give up and started breathing on her own. She developed reflexes and began to eat a little. On the sixth day, I was allowed to hold my baby in my arms for the first time - it turns out that this is such happiness: holding your baby in your arms and pressing the snuffling bundle to your chest. After this event, my temperature no longer rose - I had a strong desire to leave the maternity hospital, but the doctors did not let us go - they were playing it safe. I said, jokingly, of course, that I came here in the fall, and we’ll go home in the winter.

I was allowed to put my baby to my breast on the eighth day. It turned out that feeding a baby is real bliss; this feeling cannot be compared with anything. On November 4 it snowed - I immediately realized that today we would be discharged. And so it happened. Despite the diagnoses of the pediatric neurologist, I already knew for sure that everything would be fine with us.

Epilogue: I'm not afraid of a second birth after a caesarean section

Almost three years have passed since then. During the first months we took various medications, visited a massage therapist and walked a lot. A million times a day I confessed my love to my daughter, admiring her courage and strength. Soon the neurologist removed all previous diagnoses. Thanks to the efforts made, I was able to establish feeding after cesarean and retained milk - subsequently I fed the baby until she was almost two years old.

I haven’t communicated with my husband’s grandmother since then - I couldn’t forgive her for her lack of faith and my poor health. Now we have a small family - we were left alone, since my husband could not stand the test of being a child and left when the baby was barely five months old. But when I hear from my daughter the phrase: “Don’t be afraid, mom, I’m with you!” I understand that all these tests were not in vain. And I also believe that we will have a new dad, and my daughter will have a brother or sister. Yes! Despite my difficult birth and postpartum problems, I am ready to give birth to another child!

Hi all!

Many people know that I am a supporter of everything natural, including childbirth. But this time everything did not go according to my scenario, life decided to make its own adjustments to it. My daughter turned over in the seventh month and was in a breech position until the birth (as they later said after the operation - not just in the pelvic position, but in the leg position), it was assumed that she would be large by the time she was born, therefore, the doctors gave an unequivocal verdict - only a cesarean section there can be no section and no “yarozhusama”. At the appointment, I even shed a tear, I didn’t want the operation so much... But then I pulled myself together, after all, everything is the will of the Almighty, and there is no point in resisting it... In addition, the doctor who took care of me throughout the pregnancy, the midwife and more several colleagues convinced me that there was nothing wrong with the CS. Yes, there is nothing terrible. Just as there is nothing pleasant about it.

So, let me begin.

I was sent to the maternity hospital at 38 weeks, like all repeat births. But the head of the department at the maternity hospital decided differently, and postponed the hospitalization to the 39th week, which, to put it mildly, worried me, you never know, what if it starts earlier, I kept thinking... But everything worked out, I reached the 39th week , albeit with difficulty, and went on the appointed day to surrender to the obstetricians and gynecologists at the maternity hospital. Preparations for the operation took place over two days; I was examined and given a list of what needed to be purchased for the operation. I was forbidden to eat after 6 pm on the day before the operation. And they forbade drinking water. Those who were pregnant will understand how difficult it is not to drink when you really want to... I persevered. In the morning, as always, an enema (sorry for the details, but without them the story would be incomplete). Add to all this that in the last few days I was just like a ball on legs, my stomach was very large, my pelvic bones had already begun to diverge and it was incredibly difficult for me to walk, I could barely move around the department, and what can I say, it was even hard to lie down... I was waiting for the day of the operation and was afraid of it...

The night before the operation, they gave me an injection of Relanium to calm me down. But it had little effect, it was a difficult night, several people decided to give birth, and accompanied their attempts with loud screams. It was almost impossible to sleep.

They came for me at 12-00. They bandaged my legs with elastic bandages (to prevent varicose veins), and, taking my bags, the nurse took me to the operating room. There they stripped me and laid me on the table. The table is very narrow, and with a big belly it was very difficult to lie on it, because... my stomach kept wanting to roll over to one side or the other. My nerves couldn't stand it at that moment. Tears poured down in hail, the nurse was sincerely surprised why I was crying... And three times she missed the intravenous catheter into my vein... The hysteria intensified. When the vein was open, the anesthesiologist came. And, either it was the day or something else, but he also missed me between the vertebrae three times. More precisely, he ended up somewhere, because... There were lumbagos, but there was no anesthesia. My hysteria knew no end and edge, it was scary, from somewhere thoughts appeared that I would be paralyzed and I would not be able to take care of the children... The anesthesiologist was angry and grumbled that if I did not stop crying, then he would completely remove me from the table will remove. On top of everything else, contractions began. Yes, yes, my daughter seemed to be waiting for the moment of the operation, and began to remind herself. It became even more scary, it was difficult to breathe, because... my nose was already clogged, I was breathing through my mouth, and at the moment of a contraction it is difficult to do this... The anesthesiologist turned me into a different position, and finally did his anesthesiological work. Warmth started running down my legs, and a crowd of doctors immediately came running, laid me down, and began to treat the surgical field. Then they put a screen at my chest level, and I saw only the kindest eyes of the anesthesiologist above me, the rest remained behind the screen, and thank God. But I heard everything! And how “she doesn’t want to go out”, and “pull her by the legs”, and “be careful, entwining her”... The whole range of feelings experienced at that moment is very difficult to convey, tears were rolling down like hail, I lay there and prayed to the Almighty to hear my daughter’s cry as soon as possible.

They pressed sharply on my stomach and took out the baby, and the neonatologists were already rushing with her to the other end of the operating room. I stared questioningly at the anesthesiologist, and in a panic asked, “Why isn’t she screaming?” The anesthesiologist laughed, he said, our mother is such a funny one today... Let me cut the umbilical cord, he says, now she will scream... And indeed, a moment later the daughter raised her voice. At that moment I relaxed and just started having fun. The doctors relaxed, in my opinion too, because they started joking, asking me what I fed such a big young lady, as I would call her, and even made the assumption that the name Malik would be given to the girl in honor of the film about a millionaire from the slums)))

Then they showed me the already clean, processed musk)) A frowning, dissatisfied baby doll))) They let me kiss it, and took it away.

But, as it turned out, it was too early to relax. Too early. I was about to get the worst of it. In general, a caesarean section can be characterized as a slight relaxation before a delayed surgery. Natural childbirth - on the contrary, first there are several hours of torment, and then you get high. And with a cesarean, you get high, and then you pay for the fact that there were no contractions, for the fact that you didn’t push, for the fact that you didn’t give birth... Everything is interconnected...

I was supposed to stay in intensive care for 6 hours. After about 30 minutes the pain began to appear. The pain grew and gradually became unbearable. The anesthesiologist asked if it was necessary to anaesthetize... A strange question, I must say. They injected me with tramadol. Twice. An hour later the nurse said that we had to get up. I felt like boiled s**t, my legs were still weak, my butt didn’t want to listen to me at all. The only thing that consoled me was the thought that the faster I got up, the faster they would transfer me to the ward, and the faster I would see my girl. For this reason, I “learned to walk” in 4 hours, and not in the required 6...

I was transferred to a room and left alone with my thoughts. I approached the nurse several times and asked when the baby would be delivered. She couldn’t stand it the third time and called the children’s department. They said they would bring it by 21-00. Three agonizing hours of waiting...

I could barely walk, in a half-bent state. My stomach hurt terribly, despite the tramadol injections. Getting up is a nightmare; it seemed to me at that moment that even wheelchair users could do it faster than me. But I had to do a lot of things, make a bed for the baby (in our maternity hospital these are such convenient plastic “baths” on wheels), go wash, sort out my things...

At 21-00 a miracle happened)) The children's nurse brought our baby)) And the pain disappeared somewhere, and I immediately wanted to live)) True, they brought me only for an hour. At this hour we managed to get acquainted and try to eat for the first time)) Needless to say, this hour flew by unnoticed...

In total, three caesarean sections were performed that day. And so, the three of us, clanking our bones like unlubricated terminators, with a harsh shuffling gait, slowly moved along the corridor... Going to the toilet was torture, there were eternal queues, because... There were also pregnant women in the same department, and there was only one toilet. Standing was painful and unbearable. At those moments, I cursed all the women who voluntarily go to the CS, and also tell everyone and everything how easy and cool it is. It's not easy, girls. Undoubtedly, it is possible to survive this, and I survived. But I have something to compare with. Yes, in ER the pain when pushing is terrible. But after the EP, you and the child are immediately in the ward, lying and relaxing, enjoying each other. Anyone who has given birth knows that a child who was born naturally gets very tired, and in the first day he practically does not bother the mother, he sleeps all the time... You can move without fear that the seam will “burst”, you can eat, and, in principle, This is an incomparable feeling when I gave birth myself, not so much pride, but some kind of feeling of self-satisfaction, or something...

After a CS you feel like a shredded piece of meat. The next day the baby was brought in at 6 am. And they left it for the whole day. I had to learn to jump up at a click with a cut belly, like a recruit in the army)) Contrary to popular belief, no one comes to help mothers who have undergone surgery. The nurse stopped by a couple of times and asked if I needed formula for supplemental feeding. That's all. At night the navel was taken away again and brought back the next day for good.

In general, it was hard for 5 days. Of course, every day the pain dulled, I became more and more accustomed to my new state, by the way, the disadvantage that was especially noticeable was that I could not feed while sitting. To feed the mouse, you had to lie down. Just imagine, the child asked to eat. And then the cut-up mother, like a biathlete at the ready (and everything has to be done quickly, babies at that age don’t like to wait), must lay out a diaper with a shement, prepare a place for herself, take the baby, and lie down so that it is comfortable for her too, and baby...

Of course, those who read this story will have differing opinions. Someone will write that all this is nonsense, and that he suffered the CS much easier than me. Someone will agree with me. I am incredibly grateful to the doctors who were with me all these days, incredibly grateful for this opportunity to live and enjoy life with my baby, because if it weren’t for this operation, I would hardly have given birth to her on my own, and if I had, who knows , with what complications...

Therefore, the moral of this fable is this... If there is evidence, resign yourself and agree to the operation. But without testimony, dear girls, there’s no need... This is unnatural...

Thank you for your attention!

Characters:
Doctor - Zoz Natalya Borisovna
Midwife - Lichagina Lyudmila Petrovna

Venue: Maternity Hospital No. 9, Family Childbirth Department

In italics - husband's comments

So here's my story about childbirth. I’ll say right away that we’ll talk about planning. During pregnancy, I was not given one in principle, but at almost every examination and ultrasound they said that the baby was large and my pelvis was too small. I was preparing for a natural birth. Here's how events developed further.

At 36 weeks, contractions appeared for the first time on CTG, apparently training contractions. At 37 and 38 weeks the situation on CTG is the same, and I already began to feel them, sometimes even quite strongly; plus intrauterine hypoxia has increased. At 38 weeks, the doctor from the housing complex let me go completely, saying that I could give birth at any moment. At 38 weeks, Zoz had a routine examination at the maternity hospital. We looked vaginally (very carefully - no unpleasant sensations!), the cervix was smoothed, and 1 finger was dilated. Natalya Borisovna reassured us with her husband: “We are waiting, everything is fine with you.” "Hooray!" - I thought. But it wasn’t to be... From that moment on, I was no longer afraid of anything and was fully active: I washed the floors, walked for hours, didn’t use elevators (only the stairs!), actively “used my husband,” candles with belladonna and nettles. Effect - zero!! Arrived (August 24); the whole family was already exhausted, especially my husband, but I was tormented by contractions.

On Monday, August 27, we are going to the maternity hospital to see Zoz for an examination. She's surprised we haven't given birth yet. Looks again vaginally and does an ultrasound. Everything is the same: the cervix is ​​ready for childbirth, 2 fingers are dilated, contractions are showing, according to ultrasound, the placenta is stage 3 of maturity. Recommendation: hospitalization in the antenatal department. "For what?" - I ask (if everything is ready and we are just waiting for labor). “Well, let’s see, we’ll observe. But the baby is standing high and doesn’t lower himself. Maybe he’ll have to be delivered by planned cesarean section,” Natalya Borisovna answers me. We agree that in the morning I will come with my things and surrender to the maternity hospital.

On Tuesday, my husband took me to the prenatal clinic, and there were no paid wards, and for the first half of the day I was in a 6-bed free room. It’s somehow quite sad there... I have time for the morning examination by all the specialists: the head of the department, the chief of medicine, and Zoz - everyone climbed in and looked. They press on the stomach, try to lower the fetal head into the pelvis, but it does not go. They unanimously decide - planned caesarean section. And then I felt so happy! I'll see my son! "Do you agree on Thursday?" - “Yes, of course, I’ll be there today.” I spend the rest of the day on Tuesday and all Wednesday at the antenatal clinic, they give IVs (just feeding), they take blood and urine. A meeting with an anesthesiologist is organized, I choose general anesthesia (I don’t like these medical things!). I walk along the corridors and smile from ear to ear, all the nurses and midwives are in shock: “Usually, before operations, all our tears are shed here.” I call Lichagina and invite her to my planned caesarean section, because... I want her to prepare me and she will be the one to accept the baby.

And here it is Thursday, August 30th. The operation is scheduled for 10 am. I haven't eaten anything since Wednesday lunchtime, just water. Yes, they give you a sleeping pill before bed on Wednesday. On Thursday morning they do an enema (a completely normal procedure), I shaved myself the day before, so they praise me and don’t shave. At 9 am the husband and the beaming Lyudmila Petrovna arrive. We move with all the packages to our beautiful postpartum ward. I put on a funny nightie and kiss my husband. And Lichagina and I are riding in the elevator to the 5th floor to the maternity ward. Time 9:45. In the corridor I lie down on a gurney, Lyudmila Petrovna puts a urinary catheter in me (this is perhaps the most unpleasant thing in all my births - a burning sensation, and as if I wanted to pee all the time) and takes me to the operating room. I climb onto the operating table, my legs and arms are tied, my stomach is exposed, a needle is placed in a vein, a tonometer is placed on the other arm, my stomach is washed with warm water and smeared with iodine. It’s very calm in the operating room: 2 nurses are working on the instruments, an assistant doctor is already ready, a smiling anesthesiologist is standing next to me and lets me breathe oxygen, Lyudmila Petrovna is just holding my hand. He asks if I’m nervous and asks me to calm down: “Do you know what your medical card number for the maternity hospital is? 5555!!” I look at my watch - 10:05. I hear Zoz come in: “Hello, who haven’t you seen today?” Just as I want to say hello, the anesthesiologist says: “Well, let’s do it.”

I'm sitting in the postpartum ward. Yulka left. Time 10:00. I walk from wall to wall - they weren’t allowed to go to the operating room. I look at my watch: 10:16. I think Yulka should have already been cut, probably. At the same moment, the midwife flies in with a heap of blankets and says that here he is. She and I go to a special room, where I watch how the child is processed, washed, weighed and measured: 3,750 g, 53 cm. After all the procedures, I wonder how many points the child will be given? The midwife says 7/8. Then I see 8/9 Apgar on the discharge card. They suggested returning to the ward, so I stayed with my son. At least one is under control. How is my Yulka?..

In the operating room, the anesthesiologist wakes me up and asks me to squeeze my hand. I squeeze tightly and see 10:25 on the clock. Then I wake up in the recovery room at 11:00. In front of me is my husband with my son and Lyudmila Petrovna, everyone is smiling, they are putting their son to the chest, Lichagina is directing my nipple into his mouth. But he waited for me for so long that he didn’t take the breast - he fell asleep right on me. How cute! It’s a pity that I can’t pet him: there’s still the same IV and tonometer on my hands. My husband kisses me tenderly, thanking me for my son. Lyudmila Petrovna gives me something to drink and reminds me that the sooner I move, the better (yeah, I can’t even move my toes - everything hurts). My feelings: how happy I am and how well I slept! No dark corridors or crocodiles, no headache, no nausea, just a little chilly. I’m lying under a blanket, ice on my stomach, a urinary catheter, of course, inserted, a diaper between my legs. So I will lie there until 18:00, until I am transferred to our individual ward. All this time, my husband replaced the baby’s mother: fed, changed clothes, etc. Did a great job!!! Now she and her son are best friends!

Except for the fact that they promised to return our mother first at three, then at six, but they brought her back at eight, and this is against the backdrop of the fact that you can’t go to the intensive care unit, you can’t separate from the child, and it’s incredibly difficult to catch doctors in the corridors! Thank God, at about five o’clock the doctor who delivered the baby came in and was able to ask in detail about how the operation went. I calmed down a little. Yes, also: at eleven, when I was carrying my son to Yulka, the child, already tired, fell asleep and was unable to latch onto the breast. They promised me that “we’ll repeat it in a couple of hours,” but instead, at three days they brought me a bottle with a pacifier and formula. I really wanted the child to “try” his mother first. However, as soon as he “tried” a day later, it became clear that his mother was much more valuable to him.

I really enjoyed my stay at the maternity hospital. I don't regret the money spent at all! Zoz made such a neat seam for me that it’s not visible at all. She also tried and stitched up my muscles so that I could recover faster! Every day Natalya Borisovna came to see me, inquired about my health and gave all sorts of advice (in addition to just making rounds to the doctor on duty). Lyudmila Petrovna also came in when she was in the department. She really helped me with my breasts, when my milk came in, and gave me confidence that I needed to feed (I was in so much pain at first - terrible!).

We were discharged on the 6th day, the milk arrived on the 3rd day, before that we had complementary foods (now I feed the whole thing myself). So the fact that he didn’t try the breast right away is not a problem. Then for a year and a half I ate my mother with gusto, and no formula was needed!

Girls, who will have a caesarean section - do not be afraid! Severe pain only for the first 2 days, then every day it gets better and better. Today we are only 14 days old, and I have been coping with the baby on my own since the 8th day: I don’t feel the stitch at all, I walk in a bandage, I breastfeed.

Our mother, who was afraid of the blood test until she fainted, acted as if the operation had never happened. Already on the first evening I started spinning in bed (“Gymnastics!”). On the second day I got up. I understand that the doctor did her best - I have never seen such beautiful stitches (as if they had simply glued the skin end-to-end, Yulka said that the muscles had also been sewn together), but my mother never complained of pain or discomfort. And on the second day I started walking. To be honest, it looked like a miracle. I wanted to believe in medicine, but I think it’s still an internal attitude.

P.S. Now I can’t even imagine how we used to live without our son Nikolai! Now he is already 2 years old, and he often remembers how he “sat in his mother’s tummy and did not want to come out.”

Discussion

But the article, IMHO, is somehow presented incorrectly. Everything is so sweet and heartfelt, great! Smiles and happy faces... this is wonderful if we were talking about natural childbirth, but when abdominal surgery, and by the way, it’s somehow not very clear why it was done, is presented on such a “golden platter”, then Personally, I don't like it at all.(C)
Girls, don’t turn the discussion into, excuse me, “who’s pi... deeper,” like “YAGEROYA SELF-BIRTH!” The birth of a child, regardless of the method of birth, is HAPPINESS! The mother from the article is happy that the baby is healthy and does not suffer from an inferiority complex due to the cesarean section. Abdominal surgery is dangerous, I don’t argue, but ER is also not a raspberry, and there are a lot of complications after ER, to start with at least with the fact that during a CS they clean you conscientiously, and after ER, in my only memory, out of 5 natural girls, three were cleaned again - some clothes were left after childbirth... To each his own, and it doesn’t matter, CS or ER, it is important that the children are HEALTHY and ALIVE!!! Just like mothers. IMHO.

I had a CS in 2002. Now I’m waiting for the second and want an ER, I consider cesarean as the most extreme option.
In CS, not everything is so chocolatey! The anesthesia alone is worth it! It’s great if your body tolerates drugs well, but what if it doesn’t? Personally, I had: glitches, nausea with vomiting, and respiratory arrest. then there was inflammation of the uterine cavity - endometriosis, because... external interference in internal organs does not pass without leaving a trace. girls who gave birth on their own after 3 hours go to the nursery for feeding, and with a cesarean one you can only get up on the second day, and then from blood loss the stars in the eyes and along the wall. both before the operation and the first 2 days after, a urinary catheter is placed, after which going to the toilet on your own is a terrible torment! enemas are also not the most pleasant - they are given before the operation and 3 after.
You will also face complications with repeated pregnancy. The uterus is a muscular organ, and if there is a scar on it, then it stretches worse and contracts worse during childbirth.
Sorry for being so negative and chaotic, but these are my personal impressions.
Of course, I am not dissuading those for whom a cesarean section is absolutely indicated; here it is necessary to compare the benefits and harms. but you shouldn’t blindly obey the doctor either. if one diagnoses CS, then you need to consult with other doctors, read the literature or not

I also had a planned cesarean section. Or rather, it should have been planned, but it turned out to be an emergency. And I, too, glowed and smiled and still glow! I’m very, very glad that it turned out this way. I won’t give birth myself (sight), but I don’t regret it at all. The milk came on the 3rd day, before that the colostrum came. No complementary foods were introduced. There were no complaints at all with this. Congratulations to the author for such memories and results! I am very pleased to read that someone liked the cesarean procedure, it seems to me that this is rare!

Congratulations to the author on the birth of his baby! But the article, IMHO, is somehow presented incorrectly. Everything is so sweet and heartfelt, great! Smiles and happy faces... this is wonderful if we were talking about natural childbirth, but when abdominal surgery, and by the way, it’s somehow not very clear why it was done, is presented on such a “golden platter”, then Personally, I don't like it at all.
I understand that sometimes a caesarean section is inevitable for objective reasons, but one should not turn a blind eye to the fact that it is still worse and more dangerous than a normal birth.

And I had a planned cesarean... I also went there, happy and beaming... I just chose an epidural... I saw everything at once and there was no after-effect...
I was discharged after 4 days... everything was super... the operation went perfectly, the doctor and anesthesiologist simply have golden hands... Now I’m preparing to be in their hands for the second time. I will never have the chance to give birth myself because of an operation performed on my intestines in childhood...
But I’m not upset... everything that doesn’t get done is for the better)))

There was also a planned cesarean section for vision. They told me as soon as I became pregnant that I wouldn’t give birth myself. In the morning at 9.30 I went to the operating room, at 9.40 - time of birth, at 10.10. They were already taken to the intensive care unit. No glitches, nausea, etc. after anesthesia. Minimum of discomfort. Precisely unpleasant, not very painful. I went on the second day and was discharged on the sixth. The milk came on the fourth day. Before this, my daughter was, of course, on complementary feeding, which did not prevent her from being exclusively breastfed. Although I applied it to my breast from the second day. Yes, my daughter was given 9 points on the Apgar scale. The seam is very neat - it’s not visible if you don’t know that there was an operation. She gave birth in Sechenovka.

and what were the indications for cesarean?

Comment on the article "Caesar birth"

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