It’s my ends and I’m allowed to say my end justifies my means

The ends justifies the means: my birth story-let me enjoy it without negativity! 

I didn’t plan it, I actually planned against it, but clearly there were other plans and the ends were pretty awesome.  I’m going to start from the end and go backwards.  The end is-I have a friggen healthy happy kid.  This kid is just about perfect.  (yea he may have just taken 10+ min to cry himself to sleep for a nap, but he’s out now! I call that perfection).  Not a thing wrong with him, health wise.  Oh did I mention he is happy.  Almost all the time (I blame his father).  Unless you are depriving him of food or sleep, he is a happy camper.  And me-I am 11 lbs from my pre-pregnancy weight.  If it weren’t for the lack of jeans I’d be happy with my body, but seriously only having 2 pair of jeans to wear is crazy.  I ran a ½ marathon 3 months ago-that’s 3 months after my wonderful son was born.  3 months after my plan did not listen to me. 

The plan-a natural, medication free, non-induced child birth.  The reality- I had a freak rash all over my feet, that was driving me insane.  Nothing helped.  Heat made it worse; and it was August-oh and I’m hot bodied.  So I get super hot super easily.  Oh and did I mention that I had food aversions during my pregnancy and gained way too much weight b/c my doctor told me to eat whatever I wanted when I told him that healthy food made me sick to my stomach, and all I wanted to eat was chips and bread (FAIL!)  So the docs induced me, I didn’t want it, but I wanted my feet to stop being on fire-ALL THE TIME!  And I kind of wanted to meet my kid.  Call me selfish.  Being induced did nothing, kid wasn’t moving, well he was, his large dome was banging against my pelvic bone with each contraction-what a lovely feeling that was!  After 9 hrs I was 3cm dilated (fail!)  I caved, and asked for an epidural, I just couldn’t do it any longer.  They tried to give it to me, but his heart rate dropped and there we were at an emergency c-section.  Within minutes the pain was gone, and I was happy (and warm….man was I warm…like a warm cozy feeling).  A short while later they handed us a happy, healthy, beautiful boy (I had lost my bet with Doug that it was a girl, but won in life b/c I was a mom). 

So yea, I’m a statistic.  Call it what you want.  But, I don’t feel bad about it.  There is nothing for me to feel ashamed about as many articles against c-sections would like to make mommies like me feel.  I didn’t pick the date my child would be born because it was the day most convenient to me, or because I liked the date.  Don’t try and make me feel bad.  (and yes, I realize some don’t have that intention, but think about it…if you are writing about how bad c-sections are, then in some ways you are putting a negative spin on my birth story.  Each time I say I had a c-section, there is a pause before the person ask what happened, and I feel as if I have to explain how there was a failure on SOMEONE’S part-the doctors, me, the kid.  But God clearly had a plan for me.  I had all the education, I had the plan, but God and Walker had another plan).

I have a wonderfully healthy child and I am healthy too!  In the end I can’t ask for anything more!  Would I have like to have had a natural birth, yea, but I’d also like a personal chef, maid and to learn to teleport myself (and maybe Walker and Doug….no more car trips…that sounds awesome…).  Education is great, I’m all for it, but let’s support those whose plans don’t work out quite like they’d like.  You can call me weak, but this weak Mama has a healthy child, and scored a 97 (out of 100) on her PT test (5 mos post c-section).  Weak my patoodle!