“I won’t survive if I have this baby”
This statement sounds scary but it's one I was truly convinced of while pregnant with my first daughter in 2012. When I initially fell pregnant we were excited; it wasn’t until 16-20 weeks when we started discussing birthing options at appointments that the overwhelming fear begin to take over.
At that point, when voiced, my concerns were brushed off by others with statements like “It's natural to be a bit anxious” or “You’re a first-time mum so I understand the fear” but I knew that this didn't feel like normal nerves. It was an all-consuming monster of anxiety that took over all my thoughts, was the thief of my sleep and of enjoyment at the idea of bringing a new life into the world. In fact, the only thing it didn’t steal was my appetite (but really, you try taking a biscuit away from a pregnant woman).
I spent appointment after appointment trying to explain myself but every brush-off made speaking up harder to do and it eventually silenced me, as I felt like I wasn't being listened to. My fear was solely around the birth; I was adamant that I wouldn't be able to safely have this baby via a vaginal birth. I can’t quite pinpoint how I came to believe this so deeply but I think there were a number of contributing factors. No female in my family (mother, aunt, cousin or grandmother) had birthed a baby naturally and if they had attempted to with their first child, they ended up in emergency sections. In addition, when I elected to follow popular advice to google birth stories and videos, this quite frankly was no help at all. I was met with countless negative experiences of birth which only exacerbated my feelings.
As I got closer to the birth, at the 30-week mark, I became sure that the only way this baby would be delivered safely was in a planned section. I know many would see this as absolutely mad given that it is major surgery and birthing your baby is - we are often told - “one of the most natural things in the world”. However, when your fear is so consuming and you are so sure that dying will be the outcome if forced to labour and deliver, a planned section with doctors and nurses in a controlled environment feels like the safest (and at that point, only) option.
As I had requested an elective section but had no medical reason for this, at 34 weeks I was booked to meet with the head of the midwifery-led unit. At the appointment, I was made to look at and listen to her read out every single risk of a caesarean section. I walked out of the hospital into the car park and was suddenly unable to breathe. Faced with the information overload, I felt like there was no way myself or my baby would survive the birth - whether that be naturally or even via an elective section.
My husband took me back into the hospital and they called a midwife who took me into a side room to help calm me down. It was only after this (and following a 3-page letter of complaint to the hospital) that I was booked to meet with a specialist consultant who finally diagnosed me with tokophobia. I was granted an elective section on the basis that it was the safest option for me and my baby due to my mental health.
Five years later, I fell pregnant again. This time, I didn’t want to have an elective section. I had spent the last few years battling my anxiety demons in other aspects of my life, so I also wanted to tackle them here. I decided to try looking for birth stories and experiences again - and found for every few negative ones posted online, there was a positive one too (I just had to amend my google search to be more specific). I went on a hypnobirthing course with Siobhan at the Positive Birth Company and I took to social media, forums and sites like Mumsnet to reach out to others who felt the same - to ask for positive stories and to seek out the beauty in birth; something I never thought I could find.
I appreciate that many need to share their negative experiences for their own sanity. Birth trauma is real and more often than not, it is difficult to know where to go for support, meaning that many go online. Although reading these stories didn't exactly 'help' me the first time (when I was seeking urgent reassurance about the birthing experience), I did get to see the support that was out there. Even with some of the more 'scary' stories, there were often women posting words of encouragement, or even saying they had been there too. They were not alone.
It is no surprise that it is often the negative birth stories that command attention - but perhaps this is due to our nature as humans. We are very often quicker to express our disapproval, bad experience or disappointment at something than we are to give praise or speak positively. Despite this, I think there is reassurance in knowing that even in the eventuality of complications or things not going as planned (it never goes as planned) these women have lived to tell the tale, and are now mothering their beautiful babies, the best they can.