The first time I found out I was pregnant with my eldest, I broke down in tears. It was just three months after miscarrying our first baby at 12 weeks, so the news came with a whirlwind of emotions—joy, fear, and deep anxiety about going through another loss.
The first 28 weeks of my pregnancy were smooth. I didn’t have morning sickness or many typical pregnancy symptoms—just the weight gain, and a lot of it! I had numerous early scans because I was terrified of something going wrong again. But after 28 weeks, things took a turn. I began having frequent growth scans as the baby seemed to be measuring large. I was tested for gestational diabetes and pre-eclampsia and had countless blood tests. Doctors were growing increasingly concerned.
At one of the growth scans, we found out baby was not only big but also breech, making a natural birth too risky. The idea of a C-section terrified me—I couldn’t wrap my head around the thought of having surgery to deliver my baby. But it wasn’t up to me; this was the safest way forward.
I had planned to work as long as possible, but with the pre-eclampsia scare, I was advised to work from home. I handed in my final tasks at 36 weeks and 4 days, had one last scan, and was preparing for my scheduled C-section. I’d given myself the weekend to mentally prepare and get organised.
But baby had other plans.
The very next day—before I could even rest from finishing work—I went into labour, unknowingly. The pain was constant and intense, not the wave-like contractions I expected. While in the bath, I didn’t notice if my waters had broken. My mum rushed me to hospital and called my dad to collect my partner from work. At the hospital, they hooked me up to a monitor and quickly realised I was in active labour, already halfway dilated. With a breech baby, everything moved quickly—I was rushed into surgery for an emergency C-section. I was overwhelmed, panicked, and a complete mess.
Just three hours after arriving, my beautiful rainbow baby, Oscar, was born at 9lbs 4oz—over three weeks early. Due to complications from the emergency birth, he spent 11 days in NICU for breathing support. Today, he’s a sassy 6.5-year-old full of life.
Trying for our second baby took over a year, and I began to worry Oscar might not get a sibling. So when I finally got pregnant again—just after Oscar turned 2.5—it was the best news.
Given the trauma surrounding Oscar’s birth, I was closely monitored with regular scans and tests. We eventually decided on a planned section to hopefully avoid another emergency. This time, I had awful back and hip pain—baby was curled up tightly in my pelvis, making things very uncomfortable. Despite my instincts telling me otherwise, I was constantly reassured that this baby wouldn’t be as big as Oscar.
At 39 weeks and 4 days, we headed into hospital for our planned C-section. Everything went smoothly—until I walked into the surgery room. Cue the panic and tears again. Thankfully, the team was incredibly kind and calming. But as the birth began, things got intense. Baby was stuck, and I had one surgeon pushing on my belly while another tried to pull him out. I didn’t feel it at the time, but I was bruised and sore afterward.
When he finally arrived, the surgeon looked at me and said, “Thank goodness you had a section—he’s massive!” Isaac was born weighing 10lbs 3oz. My instincts had been right all along. We were discharged the next day, and Oscar was overjoyed to meet his little brother.
Both of my births were incredibly different, both emotional and at times traumatic—but I wouldn’t change a thing. They are the stories of how my boys came into this world. The pain fades, but the overwhelming love you feel stays with you forever.
