In today’s digital world, it seems people feel liberated to share the most outlandish opinions and claim expertise on topics they know little about. Just one casual remark on a friend’s social media post can spark a wave of judgment and unsolicited advice. Well, online community, I’m here to say—I won’t accept your shame.
Just like my first child, I’m set to have a planned C-section for this baby. And guess what? That doesn’t make me any less of a great mom. Some women opt for scheduled C-sections for various reasons, and while it’s true that C-section rates can be high and we could improve support for vaginal deliveries, it’s really none of your business why someone makes that choice.
I can’t speak for everyone, but I can share my story. During my first pregnancy, I presented a birth plan to my doctor, thinking I could go the natural route with minimal intervention. My doctor was on board until an ultrasound revealed that my son, Leo, wasn’t just breech; he was in a rather precarious position. Despite my attempts to encourage him to turn—like laying upside down with frozen peas on my belly—he was stuck.
I still remember the tension in the room during that ultrasound as my doctor’s expression shifted to concern. When she finally said, “I don’t think you’re going to get the birth you’re hoping for; we’ll need to do a C-section,” I felt a wave of relief wash over me, knowing my baby was okay. To be honest, after all that, our reaction was pretty much, “Oh, is that it?”
The C-section felt like a scene from an action movie, with nurses working hard to help deliver my little boy. But you, dear internet, don’t see the struggle behind that surgical decision. You don’t know that my doctor mentioned that in a different time, both Leo and I likely wouldn’t have survived the labor. All you see is “C-section,” and the judgments flow.
When I was pregnant with my second child, I went into labor at just 29 weeks. After weeks of hospital visits and medication to stop contractions, my water broke at 36 weeks. Although my medical team supported my desire for a VBAC, when my baby showed signs of distress, I chose to go for another C-section.
I’ve come to terms with my two C-sections. To me, risking complications like tearing or excessive bleeding feels unnecessary when I have two sweet boys who want their mom around and a baby girl waiting to be born. Trust me, she doesn’t care how she arrives, just that she does.
So, internet, I reject your shame. I wouldn’t even be here as a mom if it weren’t for a timely scheduled C-section—my contractions were already two minutes apart when I arrived with Leo.
We can never fully understand someone else’s reasons for their medical choices, and frankly, it’s not our place to judge. The best thing to say is, “What matters is that mom and baby are safe and happy,” then offer a smile and a heartfelt congratulations.
In conclusion, everyone has their own story and struggles, and we should celebrate the joy of motherhood rather than shame each other for the paths we take. If you’re curious about home insemination or pregnancy resources, check out this article or learn more about the science behind it at the CDC. For those looking into home insemination kits, CryoBaby is a great authority on the subject.
Summary
In a world where online judgments run rampant, it’s essential to embrace our unique motherhood journeys without shame. This piece highlights the author’s experiences with C-sections, emphasizing the importance of understanding and supporting one another rather than passing judgment.