C-Section Awareness Month: My C-Section Story and Why It Matters

Disclaimer: This blog shares a personal birth and C-section experience and may contain sensitive themes. It is not medical advice, please consult a qualified healthcare professional for any concerns.

Why I’m Sharing My Story

It only felt right, with it being C-section awareness month, for me to share my own story and experience in the hope that others can relate or make use of it, whether that is for their own journey or to support someone else.

I didn’t post this on the 1st of April as I had planned because I wasn’t quite sure how I wanted to put everything into words.

You might wonder why, out of the 25 to 30 million C-sections that happen every year, I want to share my personal story and what makes it different from others. The truth is, it is not different because it is more important, but simply because it is mine. Within all those millions of experiences, there are still so many feelings, realities and parts of recovery that are not spoken about enough.

The Birth I Thought I’d Have

Like most women, I had my birth all mapped out. Naive of me, really. I now understand why people say that things don’t always go to plan. At the time, I used to think, “Ah, I know, but surely not me.”

I would consider myself a spiritual and holistic person and apply that approach to everything else in my life. It only made sense in my head that I would have a natural water birth, with all my crystals and fairy lights. I even took a picture of the birthing pool as part of my manifestation plan.

Turns out, the universe said “not quite” and humbled me instantly.

Going Overdue and Holding On to Hope

I ended up being two weeks overdue in my attempt to allow labour to start naturally. My daughter had been head down from 20 weeks, and I was adamant that she would come when she was ready.

My husband and I had a really challenging and upsetting pregnancy, which I will most likely share in another blog. So, for me to even reach two weeks overdue, based on the journey we had, felt like a miracle in itself.

We were then faced with conversations around stillbirth risks that come with going overdue. Naturally, this filled me with anxiety, especially after everything we had already been through. I did not feel like I had it in me to push back on that advice, because I knew I would never forgive myself if anything happened.

I had three attempted sweeps, each one more painful than the last. Every time, I waited eagerly for some positive news, only to be told that my cervix was still closed. Despite this, I tried to remain hopeful.

The Decision to Be Induced

I decided that Boxing Day would be the day I would be induced. Out of all days, that was the one I chose.

I remember everyone saying to me on Christmas Day, “Imagine if she comes today,” while I sat eating my dinner and quietly hoping that she would, even though I had originally said I did not want a Christmas baby. At that point, I was desperate.

My husband’s nan even gave me a foot massage as part of a family tradition, hoping to trigger some reflexology points and give things a little push.

The Start of Labour

Boxing Day arrived and there was still no sign. I rang the hospital 20 minutes before I was meant to, simply because I could not wait any longer. As you can imagine, it was quite quiet, so I was booked in and off we went.

I had my own room and funnily enough, I was looked after by my mother-in-law’s neighbour, which felt both strange and comforting at the same time.

We started with the pessary, which I can only describe as a thick shoelace. When I had read about it online, I imagined something more like a tampon.

By around 10pm, I started to feel cramping and the contractions slowly began. I became increasingly uncomfortable and decided to get into the bath in my room, focusing on my breathing techniques that I had learned from the book Hypnobirthing by Siobhan Miller. It is a fantastic book and really helped me manage the pain through breathing and visualisation.

Unfortunately, the bath did not help. If anything, the heat made everything feel more intense. The contractions became closer together and more painful. It felt like a deep, pulling pain that started from my feet and rose intensely through my body, leaving it numb afterwards.

I carried on, but eventually asked my husband to come back to the hospital as I felt scared and needed his presence. Unfortunately, partners are not allowed to stay during the induction process.

Exhaustion, Pain, and No Progress

At 11:40am the next day, the pessary was removed and I was examined, which was incredibly painful. Please ask for gas and air during checks if you need it. I did, and I am completely okay with that.

There was little to no dilation. I was offered another pessary, but I declined as it did not align with how I wanted my birth to go. I wanted to give my body a chance to continue naturally.

The rest of the day continued with contractions. By this point, I was exhausted. I paced the room, grabbing onto anything during each surge as my body began to shake with the intensity of the pain.

I had a long playlist on my phone, a mix of my wedding songs and music that makes me feel good. We went from Elton John to dancehall, anything to get me through those hours.

At 10:43pm, I lost my mucus plug. It felt surreal, like something completely new and unexpected. I told the midwife, who reassured me that it was a good sign. I remember thinking, “This is it, it is finally happening.”

Shortly after, my waters broke while I was in bed. Again, I felt a mix of panic and disbelief, but I tried to stay calm and composed.

At 5:46am, I was checked again. There was still no change.

In that moment, everything in me dropped. After two days, there was still no progress. I felt completely defeated. I was already emotionally drained from the pregnancy, and I felt like I had nothing left to give.

The Moment Everything Changed

I was offered another pessary and then the hormone drip if that did not work, both of which I declined. My only remaining option was a C-section.

At that point, I was in so much pain and so disoriented that I would have agreed to anything. I remember being asked questions and barely being able to respond, relying on gas and air just to get through each moment.

We went into theatre. I want to say I felt scared, but the truth is I was so exhausted that I felt almost nothing. The staff were kind and reassuring. I remember lying there, waiting, aware of everything but also completely detached.

One of the doctors came to my head, stroked my hair, and told me I was doing so well. I simply smiled.

Then I heard them call for a senior consultant. They said, “The baby is transverse, she is stuck.”

Everything suddenly felt urgent, yet slow at the same time. My body was being moved as they worked to get her out. I was being pushed backwards and forwards, my body jolting with the motion. I looked at my husband and wondered if this was the moment everything might go wrong. We did not speak; we just looked at each other.

Then my husband looked to the side and said, “She is there.”

She was not crying.

I asked if she was okay. He said he did not know.

The doctors left to get oxygen, and that moment felt like forever. Then he said, “She has lots of hair, she is perfect.”

Meeting My Daughter

They finally brought her to me and placed her on my chest. I remember gently stroking her with my fingertips, unable to fully move my hands because of the wires around me.

Not long after, I fell asleep while they were stitching me back up. My husband held her for the first 40 minutes of her life.

The Early Days of Recovery

I chose to leave the hospital 24 hours later, which I would not necessarily recommend, but I needed to be home. I had spent so much time in hospitals during my pregnancy and just wanted to be in my own space, supported by my husband.

The first five weeks are a blur. I remember very little, but I do remember the journey home, every speed bump feeling like my stomach might fall apart.

I presented back at the hospital on New Year’s Eve, hobbling and holding my scar, supported by my mother-in-law. My blood pressure was very high, and it was visible how much inflammation I was holding in my body. It was acknowledged, but I was reassured this was expected following major surgery.

I left my daughter at home with her dad as I did not want to take her into the hospital due to RSV risk. I felt terrible leaving her.

I am incredibly grateful for my husband. You need so much support during recovery. He even administered my blood thinner injections because I was too scared to do them myself.

My Relationship With My Scar

I remember feeling completely numb, but there was also a lot of pressure. My belly was so swollen that I could not even see my scar at first and had to guess when washing it.

At my six-week check, the nurse did not initially offer to look at my scar. I had to insist, as I needed reassurance that everything was healing properly.

At that point, I could not connect with my scar at all. I did not want to look at it. I was even scared to shave, worried I might somehow damage it.

I later found out from my surgical report that I had a J incision, meaning the cut to my uterus had to be extended due to the lack of space. I have been told I will need another C-section in the future, although I still hope for a VBAC one day.

My mum booked me lymphatic drainage massages to help with my recovery, and this helped so much with the swelling. I remember lying there feeling quite vulnerable.

Reconnecting With My Body

Around 12 weeks postpartum, I slowly began to reconnect with my body. I had an umbilical hernia, diastasis recti, loose skin, and a scar that felt unfamiliar.

I started seeing a specialist osteopath for postnatal recovery and began doing scar massage at home.

Later, I found a provider in Leicester, HLP Therapy with Hannah Poulton, who used advanced technology to support both my scar healing and abdominal separation. It was great to hear about the progress of my scar and to have that dedicated time for it, as it was difficult to give it the attention it needed at home.

I am really grateful to Hannah for how kind and comforting she was. She helped me so much, and I will continue to see her throughout my journey.

I am still very much on my own journey, learning to accept and love my body again.

Why This Led Me to My Work

It is through my own experience that I felt inspired to support other women with their scars. Because I understand. I know what it feels like to feel lost, vulnerable, and unsure of what comes next.

There is still such limited aftercare and support available, not just physically but mentally too. That is why I am so passionate about what I do.

I was once the woman searching for answers, wondering if anyone could help me, and now I want to be that support for others.

A Final Message

If there is one thing I want you to take from this, it is this:

No matter how your baby enters the world, your experience is valid. Your body is incredible, even when it feels unfamiliar, and your journey deserves to be seen, heard, and supported.

And if you are navigating your own recovery right now, you are not alone 🤍