It’s Caesarian Awareness Month, and because I was honoured to receive two c-sections, one for each little gaffer I’ve grown and birthed onto this Earth, I feel compelled to write a bit more about the experience of becoming a mother for the first and the second time.
What I’m hoping in writing this piece is to help another mother or father identify with this story, and feel like it is okay, and very much encouraged, to speak to someone, anyone, about what they are going through.
I did not know I had postpartum depression with my first child until I didn’t with my second.
I have never said that out loud, and I have never said this even to my own family. Today, 7 months after the birth of my second child, I realize that I had suffered in silence for about 3 years, and lied to the healthcare teams in 2013 when they called to check up on how I was feeling as a new mother to my first baby. I didn’t know I was lying to them at the time, but I do now.
How could this happen? Well, for me, in 2013 it was a combination of a lack of knowledge and a lack of experience. Fairly common for a first time parent.
You see, healthcare quality is improved every day. New stories and new experiences come forward and inform the changes and improvements across the community. An example in this context is the motto ‘being a good mother’ in 2013 was translated to “breast is best”. Today, the motto has very thankfully been improved to “fed is best”. This movement came upon the heels of a story covered by the media of a mother who tragically took her own life after “failing” (ugh!) to produce enough breastmilk for her new baby, and, in the throws of PPD, ended her suffering. Sadly, I do not believe she was the only one, however, her widower shared her story, and now we are all wiser from it.
In 2013, I had a very base knowledge of PPD, in that I knew it existed, but not what it really was, and I didn’t know a thing about postpartum anxiety (PPA), or postpartum psychosis (PPP). There are now several other postpartum diagnoses for mental wellness of which the healthcare community is aware, and I would imagine other diagnoses will surface in the future as more stories are shared, and the hive mind becomes cohesive.
So I’m throwing my story in the pile, hoping for some stickiness.
2013 was my first year of parenthood, and the birth of my son came unexpectedly by emergency c-section after 40 hours of labour. My body was exhausted, and I was emotionally drained because I had made my “birth plan”, and I chose ‘Caesarian’ as my worst case scenario; I’d built this up in my mind over 9ish months, and suddenly my worst nightmare was coming true after not sleeping for 2 days. At that point I did not know that I wouldn’t be sleeping for another few months after that exhausting experience. I was fortunate to have a baby who slept. I do believe that from the initial deprivation, I did not recover, and spiralled into a fog of fear, intrusive thoughts, darkness, and despair. For 3 years. And no one knew. Not even me.
The experience of my second pregnancy and birth was very different.
I work in healthcare quality, and gained a breadth of knowledge I did not have in 2013. Also, now that I had experienced the process of birth with my first, I knew that I wanted to schedule my c-section in an attempt to side-step the exhaustion I had experienced from my labour in 2013. It was less important for me and my mental health to attempt to deliver vaginally, and very vital that I slept the night before my son’s arrival. Elected c-section was my choice for my second son, and his birth was so utterly amazing that I do not have the words to express how I felt.
Recovery in hospital after my elected c-section was awesome. I felt like Wolverine, healing in record time, and released home after 2 nights. Obviously I had a very skilled, hand-picked surgeon who caused this miracle to happen, although I do like to buff my knuckles on my shoulder (just a smidgen) to celebrate my body epically pulling through another abdominal slicing.
So, this second baby does not sleep. He is up, even at 7 months, 5-6 times a night, and although I am very tired, I am not exhausted. I’m not afraid of the night like I was in 2013, and I felt connected to this little soul, his first cry in the OR ringing in my ears. A song just for me.
I so wished this for my first, and I am thrilled I had the opportunity to feel elated during my second birth experience. I am so grateful that my eldest is such an amazing human, connecting with me when I was in the darkness, patiently and unknowingly pulling me into the light over the first 3 years of his life. My indigo child. My love.
I did not know. There are others now who may not know.
My hope is, in this month celebrating c-sections and birth, if my story resonates with you, and you see yourself, even a little bit, I hope that you will talk, or write, or sing, or dance, or whatever language feels right — about it. There are resources where you live, and if there aren’t local resources, the internet and social media platforms have support groups that make the world feel smaller and much less lonely.
You are brave, and a wonderful father or mother. The community will support you. Reach out. The light is warm, and our inner child would roll their eyes saying ‘I told you so’, but parenthood is better with the lights on.
Love always,
Your Fumbling Mom — my friends call me Kel 
Fumbling Mom 