I was absolutely terrified. I’d hear stories all the time about how c-sections were from my peers and stories on the internet, but I never thought that I would actually have to get one. I also have had peers who told me that they would prefer getting a c-section rather than having a vaginal delivery. I thought that was crazy!
It was also my first surgery ever in life, which was even more terrifying. Due to my youngest being breech, my doctor scheduled my c-section ahead of time, which made me feel like I had time to “mentally prepare.” I was wrong because my sweet Sydney Rose decided that she wanted to come into the world three weeks early. My parents had just left to go out of town, so at the time, her father and I were dealing with me going into labor all by ourselves. Terrified was an understatement.
Everything was going so fast, but at the same time it wasn’t. There were nurses coming in and out, paperwork being signed, monitors beeping, and so many thoughts racing through my head. Once I received my epidural, everything slowed down just enough for reality to sink in. I began to process that I was not only about to meet my beautiful baby girl, but I was also about to have my very first surgery.
There’s something surreal about laying on an operating table, unable to feel your body the way you’re used to, knowing that in a matter of minutes, your life will change forever. I remember feeling scared, vulnerable, and oddly calm all at once. And then she was here. In that moment, fear and joy existed side by side.
What I didn’t fully understand at the time was how much the recovery would affect me … physically, emotionally, and mentally.
I was very insecure about my c-section during my postpartum stage and even now. The scar. The bruises across my stomach. The on-and-off pain that reminded me daily of what my body had just gone through. It was hard for me to not be able to properly walk for a few weeks while trying to breastfeed, while trying to be present in the real world, while trying to be a mom. It was a lot, and it was very different from my first experience.
When I had my oldest at 15, I didn’t experience any of this. I had a vaginal delivery, I bounced back faster, and my body felt familiar to me afterward. But having another child 13 years later was a completely different experience for my body and my mental health. I had to grieve the version of myself I thought I would be postpartum and learn to accept the version I was becoming.
A lot of people don’t realize how serious a c-section actually is. It’s often talked about casually, almost like an “easy way out,” which couldn’t be further from the truth. A c-section is a major abdominal surgery. In the United States, about 1 in 3 births, roughly 32%, are delivered by c-section. During the procedure, doctors cut through multiple layers of tissue to deliver the baby. Recovery typically takes six to eight weeks, sometimes longer, and the risk of complications like infection, blood clots, and extended pain is very real.
Despite how common c-sections are, many women feel unprepared for the emotional and physical aftermath. Studies show that women who have c-sections are more likely to experience delayed physical recovery and feelings of isolation during postpartum, especially when they feel pressure to “bounce back” quickly. Knowing these facts now makes me wish I had given myself more grace then.
Now, I see my c-section scar as a memory of being strong. A reminder that my body carried, protected, and brought my daughter into this world the best way it could. That scar tells a story of survival, love, fear, resilience, and motherhood all wrapped into one.
If you are reading this, I want you to understand that however you brought your baby into this world matters. Whether it was vaginal, planned c-section, emergency c-section, or somewhere in between, you are not less than. You did not fail. Your body did not betray you. It showed up for you and your baby in the way that was needed.
C-section moms deserve the same recognition, support, and compassion as any other mom. Healing takes time. Confidence takes time. Acceptance takes time. And all of that is okay.
Today, on Cesarean Awareness Day, January 14th, I honor my body, my scar, and my story. And if you carry a similar one, I honor yours too.
