08/06/2026
My C-Section Journey (Part 8
When I arrived at the hospital that day, I was completely alone. I had only gone there to register for the very first time, clinging to the hope of what people had whispered to me: that this facility could help a woman give birth naturally, even after two previous C-sections. But the moment the doctor examined me, he looked up and said I was already in labor. He told me to call my husband immediately and tell him to bring my delivery bags right away.
My husband rushed over without delay, bringing everything I needed. I remember vividly that it was exactly 2:00 p.m. when the doctor burst my water, since it hadn't broken on its own, and told me it was time to try. I began to push with every ounce of strength in my body. The medical staff kept checking on me. Sometimes they would say, "The baby's head is almost out! Keep going!" and other times they told me to rest. I pushed and pushed, but it became an exhausting, heartbreaking cycle—the baby's head would appear slightly, and then slide right back inside the moment I stopped.
Before I knew it, afternoon turned into night. By 2:00 a.m., after twelve grueling hours of labor, the doctor came in and insisted they had to book me for an emergency C-section.
"No!" I refused completely. I didn't endure all this pain just to end up back on an operating table. I began calling my pastor, praying fervently, and crying on the phone to my mom, begging for a way out. I kept fighting through the night, but by 6:00 a.m., the doctor said they could not wait any longer. He brought out the consent forms and told my husband to sign for the surgery.Panic and desperation completely took over my mind. I looked at my husband and threatened the unthinkable: "If you sign that paper, I will kill myself!" I demanded to be discharged immediately.
The hospital staff was furious. They told us that if we were leaving against medical advice, we had to surrender our hospital card and every single document bearing the clinic's name. Furthermore, my husband had to sign a waiver stating we were leaving at our own risk. At first, my husband refused to sign, terrified for my life. But I called my mother again, screaming that I would end it all if they kept me trapped there. Realizing my fragile state of mind, my mother pleaded with my husband over the phone, "Please, just sign the paper and let her go."
With a heavy heart, he signed, and we walked out.
We went straight to the house of the traditional birth attendant—the woman who had been giving me my herbal medicines. The moment she saw me, she scolded me. "Why did you go to the hospital? I told you yesterday that you would give birth today!"
I explained through my intense pain that I had only gone there to register, but the hospital kept me. She cut the arguments short, ushered me inside, and confidently declared that she would handle the delivery. She quickly prepared her herbal concoctions for me to take, and right there on her floor, I began to push all over again...
Stay tuned for Part 9!
