CONTINUATION; IF YOU HAD EMERGENCY CS.....

Hello again and welcome back! So last week we left off at the third hospital, where we sought out the dad's friend who happens to also be an anesthetist at the hospital, and he told us similar things, adding that if we felt we wanted to attempt a normal delivery, he would provide an ambulance for us to take us to a hospital of our choice, as most hospitals around the area didn't have surgery facilities, which sounded rather rude to me but I let it slip as I was in the throes of labor and had been warned of throwing unnecessary tantrums as they would not really help with anything, serving to stress me out more rather than be an outlet for pressure.

Now here's a thing to note about most Kenyan hospitals and their nurses, especially those in labor wards; they're mean as hell, and seem to be sadistic thus will seize any opportunity they can get to torture you in your moments of misery. Because you are practically at their mercy, you just behave yourself and pray you get no ill treatment for no reason, as this also happens often. The justice system is a joke and people are overworked and underpaid anyway so it's probably not sensible to expect any different, but anyhow, I digress. So there we were, stuck, dazed, and confused, and finally the mum told us to just quit being stubborn as a cs was not a death sentence, on the contrary it would probably save lives. 

By this time I was totally out of it with pain and just wanted some peace of mind, at least as much as the contractions would allow, so I got set up for theatre while b.f. dealt with the papers and that was that, in the operation room I got knocked out with gas, and about an hour later was wheeled out with my price. The drugs went out of my system slowly, and tot got some 'nan' bottle fed to him by a nurse and mom and b.f. to which I am naturally objective as I'm scared of bottle confusion by tot which luckily doesn't happen with just one feed. The next day I struggled to sit up despite the pains in my abdomen so I could finally hold my trophy in my hands and I thought to myself it was all so worth it.

While every now and then a 'natural' mom advocate/asshole tried to get me down over the next few months, I decided that the joy I felt from holding my live, healthy son and breastfeeding him was worth all the bitterness anyone wanted to throw my way, and that, to be honest, was my strength up til now. Because any second I feel bad when 'normal birth' moms are bragging about how they pulled out their hair in labor pains and stripped down to their birthday suits I just think of my son in my arms, cuddling him to sleep with a look of content joy on his sweet face and sleep heavy eyes, and him laughing as I tickle him, or his tiny mouth chewing the food I feed him calmly, curiously, and adorably, and it is this that got me through it and still does. This is my lifeline, and it should be yours too.

Join me next week for the next post, I have not yet figured out what it will be about, but I will 😉. So keep warm dears, and stay safe, be sure to leave any questions you may have in the comments section, as well as suggestions, issues, or concerns, and I will do my best to respond fast. Cheers!