A Story of Survival, Strength, and the Birth of Charlie — Delivered by Category 1 Emergency C-Section

This birth story comes with a trigger warning for Domestic Violence, Emergency C Section- Category 1 under GA. It also contains photos that may be confronting for some readers.

"It was you who pulled me through".

The loneliest moment in my life - waking up in the hospital recovery room by myself, asking, where is my baby? A feeling all too familiar with months prior laying on a pavement at 2am wondering if I had lost you. If we were going to survive. 

Dear Charlie,

I have tried to think of ways to start our birth story, but really I feel like it starts well before our birth. The state my body was in, I'm not sure how you were even able to be conceived let alone face the violence and trauma from the person who was meant to protect us. I know if I didn't fall pregnant with you, I would be dead. 

They say the most dangerous time for a woman in a domestic violence relationship is when she is trying to leave and when she is pregnant. I was both.

Chased in the middle of the night when trying to get taken to hospital as I wasn't feeling well, I was called a hypochondriac and chased when I wasn't able to enter my own car. After 20min of trying to flea, we were left in a pool of blood on the side of the road. Thinking I had lost you and confused with so much blood, I had to call the ambulance myself. Their words 'I'm sorry, at this stage in your pregnancy, there is nothing we can do'. 'With this type of attack, you will most likely miscarry within 48 hours'. 

Fortunately, that was not our fate. You knew what our plan was. Even though our pregnancy announcement felt tainted by this trauma, I'll still never forget that scan, hearing the magic of your heart beat, knowing you survived. Knowing if you survived this, then so could I. It was you who pulled me through. You are the reason I am here. 

I wonder, how were you able to grow inside me for 9 months? As if your house you lived in was set alight with the trauma we faced daily. In and out of court, PTSD, multiple follow up appointments and scans with my injuries....

In our second trimester, I was diagnosed with Pelvic Girdle and Pubic Symphysis Dysfunction, resulting in me losing my mobility entirely by our third trimester and being in a wheel chair, I could not walk.

In one of our latest pregnancy scans I was told you had a kidney condition that may result in you needing surgery after birth or be on permanent medication. I remember looking up what kidneys represented and how it held in the body - 'fear'. Was this the result of everything you had been through before you even entered this world?

Then I thought, I did 'all the things'. Everything I could do by myself to try take our power back. Educated myself on the hospital system, had the support of my family and 2 amazing Doulas (Charlies Angels), committed to my hypnobirthing course, having a birth 'plan', having a plan for if the birth plan didn't go to plan, my mantras all over the wall, meditating with you with water. Our safe place. You were with me every step of the way. Then the days leading to.... 10 days of labour, of riding the waves, those ebbs and flows that I thought were bringing you to me. I look back now... 

Did I give up? Did I fail you? Did I lose trust? I remember making the decision, ok my body cannot process this, my body is telling me it's done, every time I softened and surrender, it would reverse. As if it could not let go as it was still so stuck in the pain that I was holding. I made the decision to being induced. It was always you and me my baby boy. 'Through it all, it was you who pulled me through'. 

So many layers to this. I have gone over these hours, over and over and over in my head. Second guessing myself. Wishing I had those first few hours with you. Wondering what I did wrong. 

Hours into the induction, I was then told I had developed preeclampsia and it was looking like a C section was going to be our 'safest option'. Knowing the cascade of interventions, I wanted to keep pushing and believe that I could do it. I didn't want to let you down. I felt like I failed. Then I remember the last attempt of trying to birth you naturally, the scraping they did through a VE to test your blood level through your scalp and being told 'Hannah, you are going in for an emergency c-section'. 

The next thing I remember being wheeled into theatre, all of a sudden it felt like there were 30 people around me, who were all these people? 2 people popped up saying 'When you wake up you're going to meet your baby!!' as they covered my face with a mask and I drifted away. I remembered trying to look for a familiar face around me. My mum had already been taken to a different room. 

They had pushed the emergency button at 7:55am and you came into this world at 8:02am. My mother later telling me she overhead the doctor calling theatres 'we have 10min', 'this is the one we practice for'. Your Oma was there to give you your first cuddles. I woke up at 9:30am thinking you'd be the first thing I'd see. All I remember is that clock infront of me, and touching my tummy, frantic, asking, where's my baby??? I think she was on auto pilot as the nurse responded with 'He's upstairs with Dad'. The fear that overcame me, he was in jail but had he gotten to us? I thought we escaped? Did he get us? Dazed and confused coming in and out of sleep I was able to say no no, he can't be here. The nurse phoned 'upstairs' and said you were with Oma. 

10am came, I kept trying to stare at the clock, I kept trying to keep my eyes open, asking the nurse when can I see you. I could see the nurse starting to get upset for me and concerned why no one had come and got me. 10:30am. 11:00am, then I was wheeled up to you, through the lifts, around a corner trying to hold my head up so I could capture and savour the first moments of looking at you, breathing you, and there you were. 11:37am, everything stood still. I wanted to stay in this moment forever. 

Nearly 3 years later, I mourn those first 3.5 hours every single day. I know we made it, I know I am so grateful we survived, again, but can these feelings not co exist? The grief of our birth and the magic of you being here. You were there for me through it all, and I was not there for you. 

Every time I think I'm doing this by myself, I remind myself, you were always with me and it's always been the two of us, it is you who went through it all, right there with me. It was you who got me out, it was you who saved my life. No matter how scary and painful those months prior were, I would do it all again as it lead me to you. 

You are the true hero of our birth story Charlie Jewelson. Forever my light in the dark. My greatest teacher. You have taught me what it means to transmute this pain into strength and what it truly means to never give up. 

To feel, to heal, to be the woman and mother you have made me be. 

Every day. It's you who pulls me through. 

Love Mum.