The idea of having a birth partner has become quite the norm in modern America, where it’s expected to have at least one supportive person—be it a partner, doula, or a close friend—by your side during labor. Today’s mothers recognize that having someone there can provide comfort and help communicate preferences to medical staff. However, I chose a different path, reminiscent of past generations where many fathers waited anxiously in the waiting room. My mother had never even heard of a doula until she became a grandmother. So, when I went to deliver my second child, I made the decision to leave my husband and toddler at home.
A significant factor in my decision was my experience with preterm labor. It all began after a family swim on a hot July Sunday when I was 33 weeks pregnant. After showering and slipping into a comfortable pink maternity nightgown, I recalled my last prenatal appointment where I was informed that my baby was in a breech position. In a desperate attempt to encourage the baby to turn, I had even attempted summersaults in the pool. Exhaustion soon set in, and I had no intentions of venturing out again that day.
Then the cramps began. Knowing that dehydration could trigger contractions, I filled a glass with water and elevated my feet. After several gallons of water, I realized it was time to get dressed as the cramps escalated to regular contractions, prompting a trip to the labor and delivery unit. With no family nearby and friends not yet contacted for emergency childcare, I reassured my husband that the doctors would likely stop the contractions and I would be home by morning on bed rest. Deep down, I sensed that wouldn’t be the case, but I didn’t admit to my fears.
Having previously delivered our first child at 32 weeks due to a partial placental abruption, I braced myself for a repeat experience. I had been under the care of a high-risk OB and was receiving synthetic progesterone to mitigate the risk of another abruption. A few weeks earlier, I had confided in my mom about my intention to go it alone during labor, which she found concerning.
After helping my toddler choose a bedtime story, I quietly left for the hospital by car service. Upon arrival, the intensity of my contractions escalated with little respite. An ultrasound confirmed the baby was still breech, and moments later, my water broke—there was no turning back, and I knew I wouldn’t be going home in the morning. Amidst the pain, I screamed, and later the surgeon informed me that the severity of my labor was indicative of a full placental abruption.
As I was rushed to the operating room, I was signing consent forms while the staff inquired about my emergency contacts. I hadn’t called anyone—I didn’t want to alarm my husband with panicked cries. A staff member offered to call him for me, and I provided my husband’s number. “Your wife is having an emergency C-section,” he conveyed, and that was that. My husband, understandably confused, responded with a mix of disbelief.
Around midnight, my husband found it impossible to sleep. He resorted to Googling “emergency C-section” but wisely opted to put his laptop away. Instead, he kept busy doing laundry and tidying our home, a testament to his nature as someone who thrives on activity. He knew from experience that during hospital situations, there’s not much control for either of us, and ultimately, he supported my decision.
The surgeon assured me the baby would be delivered in ten minutes—and she was right. As my son entered the world, I heard his cry before they whisked him away to the NICU. For the next hour and a half while they stitched me up, I felt a surprising sense of calm.
In my first delivery, my husband had put on a brave face, but the chaos of the experience had worn him down. This time, with our toddler safe at home, I was able to concentrate entirely on my own needs. As an introvert, solitude is where I find comfort and clarity, allowing me to process the whirlwind of emotions in a more controlled manner. After being stabilized and moved to the maternity ward, I communicated with my husband over the phone and checked in with the nurses about our baby’s condition. Without the presence of a support person, I felt I had ample space to absorb everything.
While going solo may not be the ideal choice for every mother, it’s important to remember that you need not feel obligated to have a sidekick. Depending on your personality, family dynamics, and the circumstances surrounding your birth, relying solely on medical staff or a midwife may be perfectly suitable. For further insights on different family-building options, check out this excellent resource on pregnancy and home insemination.
Summary
In this personal account, the author reflects on her choice to navigate labor and delivery alone for her C-section, highlighting the factors that influenced her decision. She discusses the challenges of preterm labor and the benefits of solitude during a deeply personal experience, ultimately encouraging readers to consider their own preferences in the birthing process.
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