Why I want a VBAC...

We have a beautiful 18 month old daughter named Kyliegh Elizabeth, and she is our world. When I was 39 weeks pregnant with her I had to be induced for PIH, or Pregnancy Induced Hypertension. I had a Doctor’s appointment that morning, and when I got there and they checked my Blood Pressure I was informed I would be having a baby. I was ecstatic. I went upstairs to L&D to get situated while my fiance, Charles, went home to get the Hospital Bag. For 12 hours I labored naturally before finally agreeing to the epidural (Which I was reluctant to get, but they seemed adamant. I didn’t realizing it at the time, but I think they had already decided what was coming.) and all was good for a little while. But then the epidural started to wear off on one side, and my Blood Pressure decided to spike a little. It was then that they said the words I  had been dreading… “C-Section.” The funny thing is, though, is that I had been dreading it for all the wrong reasons. I was scared of the physical pain it would cause me. But by that point in time I was so exhausted and in enough pain that I just didn’t care, I wanted labour to be done. So I signed the papers and they whisked me off to the OR. At 3:35am my daughter was born. I was so doped up on medications that I could barely even focus on her, but I could hear her cry. That was all that mattered, and I was wheeled into recovery with a smile on my face. Those first few days flew by in a blur, and I didn’t know at the time the emotional toll my birth experience was going to play on me. Throughout my entire pregnancy I had visions of the birth… Of holding Charles’ hand as I worked through the pain, holding my daughter as soon as she was born, getting to breastfeed right away… I never envisioned being strapped to a table, so doped up that I could barely make out her face before she was whisked off. I didn’t see my daughter for two hours after she was born. Two. Hours. I missed the first hour of my daughter’s life. I know in the grand scheme of things that really isn’t all that important, and she obviously wont remember. But to me it’s still important, and I missed it. I know that it was the best thing to do for me and my daughter, and I hold no regrets. I would do it again in a heartbeat. But I still mourn for the birth experience I wanted but never got.