When Martina met her baby
A true positive
In October 2022, I noticed a shift in my body, in a noticeably positive way. Instead of feeling the usual funky, painful bloating and cramping endometriosis and adenomyosis would throw at me every month, and bladder retention syringomyelia would give me...I just felt like me, for the first time in over a decade. After a day of this, I decided to tell my husband, and he excitedly suggested I take a pregnancy test. To protect my heart, I tried not to put too much belief in the fact that it may come back positive because my body had already served me a lot of disappointment over the years, including an ectopic pregnancy. But to my surprise, it did! The test came back positive again, and again! Day after day, until I finally decided to go to the GP. She asked how long it had been since my last period... a week, I said. She thought that it was too early. I felt the wait to confirm things had already been too long. Then, she checked my file and saw I had just had my first bout of Covid. In a very flat voice, she told me it was probably too early to tell if I was truly pregnant, she told me it would be unlikely the baby would make it because I had been so unwell in the lead up to the pregnancy; and she told me to come back in a fortnight for a blood test. I still don't know if COVID has an impact on pregnancy, and I have found a new and way more positive GP since because good energy is an important element of healthcare to me and I encourage you to do the same. Unsure of how to feel, Sam and I held onto hope, and I kept on buying pregnancy tests, just to make sure I wasn't going crazy! Two weeks later, I returned for my blood test and was told that I was, in fact, officially pregnant! The last day I took a pregnancy test to confirm to myself I was actually carrying a flower baby was the 30th of October 2022.
The pregnancy
That is the day I officially felt like I was going to have a chance at becoming a Mamma! Not long after this, I chose a private OB/GYN (the wonderful Dr Elizabeth Gallagher) to follow me throughout my pregnancy, as this allowed me to have continuous care and a proactive approach - something important to me as I also had to mitigate the risks associated with syringomyelia come delivery. Together, we decided on a planned cesarean to prevent unnecessary strain on my spine, hoping to avoid further damage and allow for more births in the future. The close attention and personalized care I received were invaluable, especially from midwife Nola, whose support and compassion made such an impact that I even considered naming my daughter after her.
Nola would laugh with me and hold my hands in the most comforting way whenever I asked her a question that I thought was dumb. One time, I nervously asked, "Will the operating room smell like blood and metal when they cut into me?" Her laughter was light and reassuring, and she squeezed my hands gently, dispelling my fears with her warmth and understanding. She told me that despite the epidural and all the other components of a major surgery like a cesarean, the operating room wouldn’t feel cold and sterile. Instead, it would be filled with love and the anticipation of new life. Her words wrapped around me like a warm blanket, turning my anxiety into a sense of calm and excitement for the arrival of my baby. Fast forward a few months and everything kept on getting better and better. Despite our expectations of numerous complications, my body surprised us all by holding up remarkably well.
I made it to 41 weeks and 3 days, and the night before my scheduled cesarean, I was up until midnight celebrating a family member's 70th birthday, feeling perfectly calm and happy for the day ahead. We arrived at the hospital at 4:30 a.m., completed the sign-in and prep, and by 6:30 a.m., I was calmly waiting to meet my surgical team. Just as everything seemed to be going smoothly, the anesthesiologist rushed in with less than ten minutes before I was to be wheeled into the operating room, throwing an unexpected curveball at me. He explained that after consulting with international colleagues in the UK and US all week, they had determined that both an epidural and spinal block were off the table. The only safe option for my delivery, due to my syringomyelia (a neurological disorder in which a fluid-filled cyst (syrinx) forms within the spinal cord) was to go fully under with a general anesthetic. In that moment, I felt backed into a corner, as if I had no choice. I couldn’t push, I couldn’t have an epidural, and there really was no other option—the baby needed to come out, and I had to go under for that to happen. The next minute, I was counting down from ten, and two hours later, I slowly woke up in the recovery room, groggy but relieved that the surgery was over and eager to meet my baby. I woke up in a daze, under the influence of painkillers, and could barely open my eyelids. Yet, I felt the warmth of my baby resting on my chest for skin-to-skin contact and the comforting touch of my husband, who greeted me with loving words of encouragement. Despite the haze, the moment was filled with love and relief, a beautiful beginning to our new chapter. Tears of joy ran down my face as I kept repeating the only words that came to mind when I heard my baby cry for the first time: "You are safe, my precious." My husband burst into laughter, teasing that I sounded like a crazed Gollum from Lord of the Rings. Despite the surreal mix of emotions and exhaustion, the room was filled with love and happiness as we welcomed our little one into the world. I spent five days in the hospital recovering from the surgery, waiting for my milk to come in, and learning all the things a first-time mom needs to know.
The recovery
I couldn’t wait to get home and spend those initial weeks with my new baby, soaking in all the sighs, hugs, and sleepy smiles. When I started having friends and family over, they were shocked at how easily I was moving around while tending to my baby. The energetic pep in my step and my apparent ease surprised them, given that I had just undergone a major surgery like a cesarean. This was such a contrast to how they usually found me after surgery— in true and deep pain and in very low spirits. Seeing me so energetic and positive after a cesarean was a pleasant surprise for everyone, highlighting just how different this experience was for me. They couldn’t believe how light and free I seemed. I kept telling them my cesarean was a walk in the park compared to the other medical events I had been through, and that wasn’t an overstatement. I felt great! The bottom line was that for my other surgeries, I went in already feeling sick— struggling with the debilitating effects of disease. But this time was different; I went in feeling wonderfully. Our culture often treats pregnancy as a sickness and woman are told to take it easy and be careful continuously, yet I embraced pregnancy as one of the best times in my life, as I truly felt the healthiest. Additionally, my previous surgeries involved excising endometriosis that was deep, infiltrating, and embedded in my organs. At my worst, I battled stage four endometriosis, with six organs impacted. Post surgery I was unable to walk more than 10 meters without needing to a break from the pain, and this happened for over six months. Post surgery I also wasn't able to eat a whole dinner plate of food - if it wasn't soup, eating just made me feel sicker. The contrast between those experiences and the joy and vitality I felt during pregnancy and post cesarean was stark, a testament to the transformative power of motherhood. Even in the midst of exhaustion and the early days of purple crying, I was happy. I had such a protective shield of gratitude that even the objectively hard times felt easy. I felt my world was so full, and love was truly all around me. Despite the sleepless nights and the learning curve of parenthood, there was a deep sense of contentment and fulfillment in knowing that I was surrounded by boundless love and my baby.
Motherhood
My experience of motherhood is that it is a profoundly transformative experience, especially for women who have endured negative medical experiences with their reproductive organs. For those who have battled conditions like endometriosis, adenomyosis, or faced complications from surgeries, the journey to motherhood can seem daunting and fraught with emotional and physical challenges. However, my experience also proves that the arrival of a child can bring an unparalleled sense of healing and renewal. I also know that for many women, these medical struggles often come with persistent pain, emotional distress, and a feeling of being disconnected from their own bodies. I too have felt how the chronic discomfort and invasive treatments can leave lasting scars, both visible and invisible. My hope for you is that the experience of carrying and nurturing a new life can serve as a powerful antidote to these hardships. I pray that pregnancy itself can become a period of unexpected wellness and vitality for you, as it was for me. I seriously found the hormonal changes and the focus on nurturing life within a great tool in alleviating symptoms that plagued me for years. The act of holding my newborn for the first time, truly left me feeling an overwhelming sense of accomplishment and purpose that redefined my relationship with my body. The pain and difficulties of the past receded, as my focus shifted to my present joy, my precious baby and future of my family. Each smile, each milestone, each tender moment with my baby has become a testament to my bodies resilience and a source of profound gratitude for me.
I hope motherhood leaves you as empowered as it has left me.
What do you wish you knew before birth?
I wish I had known that every mother’s journey is unique, shaped by the needs of her baby. Pregnancy and childbirth, though often treated with medical precision in today’s world, but neither are illnesses. With a bit of luck and if things go as they should, you won’t feel like a patient or someone who’s unwell, but rather like a mother, stepping into a role only you can fill.
If you could, would you do anything differently?
My husband and I had been told more times than we could count that newborns arrive sleepy, and we'd be twiddling our thumbs in the first few days, waiting for them to wake up. But that couldn’t have been further from our reality. Flower Baby came into the world with wide, alert eyes and a scream that echoed through the room. She was ravenous from the start, her undetected tongue tie making things even harder. I remember those first nights in the hospital, feeling every cry echoing louder in my ears, convinced the staff were judging me. But now, I know better. Those fears were just the insecurities of a first-time mom. No midwife in the maternity ward was thinking anything of it—except maybe how normal it all was. After all, to a new parent, their baby’s cries always sound a thousand times louder, especially in those first chaotic, precious days.
What did your partner do that really helped during labour/birth?
Sam was nothing short of remarkable from the moment we learned I was pregnant. Yet, the most unforgettable moment when I woke, groggy and disoriented from the c-section, he was the one who carefully placed Flower Baby in my arms. His movements were so tender, so precise, as he propped me up and held my weakened arms, cradling them as they trembled from the lingering effects of the medication. I could barely lift her, but he made sure that moment was ours. The way he moved—quick, sure, yet impossibly gentle—was a reflection of the unspoken rhythm we’d shared throughout this journey. In those fleeting glances, those subtle gestures, he embodied exactly what I needed: unwavering strength, quiet confidence, and love that could weather any storm.
What advice/honest truth would give a mama-to-be about birth?
All births, no matter the method, are transformative, valid, and worthy of celebration. A C-section, especially one performed under general anesthesia, doesn’t make the experience less meaningful or natural. In fact, it requires incredible strength—both physically and emotionally. Far from diminishing the birth, a C-section, especially under these conditions, makes you a super mom, battling not only the physical recovery but also the emotional challenge of feeling disconnected from the process. It’s easy to feel like you’ve missed out on something, but choosing to not let that define your relationship with your child and rising above those feelings only makes you stronger. Overcoming those initial emotions of detachment or unknowing sets you up to be a fierce, unstoppable mama bear, ready to protect and love your little one with everything you have.