An essay I wrote shortly after my youngest child was born, 2003:
It was the scariest day of my life. I was strapped to an operating table with an IV in my arm surrounded by several doctors. Every few minutes the blood pressure band around my left bicep became excruciatingly tight. I held my breath until the band reached its maximum capacity and started to release its air.
The doctors were preparing me for a C-section. My third child was side ways in the womb and could not be turned. To make the situation worse, since he was sideways, the incision would not be the normal horizon cut most women enjoyed. It would be vertical through many stomach muscles.
Going in, I knew that any future pregnancies would also end in a C-section because the womb and muscles would be too weak to support a natural birth. What I didn’t know was that for weeks afterward, I wouldn’t be able to talk loud, cough, sneeze or laugh. The pain would be acute and even two years later, when this child would step on my incision, a sharp pain would shoot through my nerves.
Diane McGyver 