How I Got Here

My first pregnancy resulted in a miscarriage. I was a newlywed and just a few months into age 34.

Not one to take things for granted, I feared that this was a sign that I would never have children. I always wanted to be a mom— to 3 or 4 kids — so this loss hit me pretty hard; not only for what it was -- the loss of my baby -- but for what it could mean going forward.

Surprisingly, I was pregnant again within 6 months. The catch? The baby was breeched and would not turn around: I was directed to deliver via c-section.

And even though I wasn't obsessed with a natural birth (my closest friends were certainly more in the pro-home birth/anti-hospital set than I ever was), I was surprisingly upset about how much I felt forced into a c-section. There was no weighing of options or alternate opinions. All I heard was, "You could die if you try to have this baby vaginally, and you'd be putting the baby will be in danger." Who takes on that challenge?

In addition to the pushiness of it all, I'll admit that part of me also felt cast out of the esteemed natural birth club before I could even apply for membership. No water-breaking, racing-to-the-hospital, 36-hour labor story for me! Every time friends asked me if I was scared about giving birth - vaginally, they all assumed - I nodded my head and felt like a fraud. The doctors said that maybe he'd turn around on his own, but it was unlikely.

Feeling robbed of my birthing story, I scheduled my son's birth like a routine dental check-up. When my Ob/gyn asked, "I have a 10am on Tuesday and an 11:45 on Wednesday -- what's best for you?" I choose a time slot and immediately broke into tears. There was nothing magical about a time slot.

Of course, I am now more than a little embarrassed about how despondent I was at the time. So innocent! I'd have 10 c-sections now if it meant healthy babies. (Ok, maybe 4 or 5. I'm not angling for my own TLC show here.) But, at the time, I never imagined that my c-section would be the apparent cause of my secondary infertility and all the endless heartache to come. It was the worst thing. How naive I was.