Childbirth is often painted as this purely instinctive, natural moment where the body just knows what to do—almost poetic in its simplicity. But for thousands of mothers, the story doesn’t end in a standard delivery room; it ends under the bright, sterile lights of an operating theatre. April is Caesarean Section Awareness Month, and finally, more women are speaking up about the reality of surgical birth.
Take Nerea Atieno, a 32-year-old mother of two. Her second pregnancy felt like a promise she’d already kept before. Having delivered her first child vaginally, she walked into the ward feeling entirely confident that history would repeat itself. “I had done this before, I knew my body would manage this round again,” she recalls. But labor is unpredictable. Things shifted fast—there was a sudden panic among the nurses, the baby’s heartbeat was dropping, and within minutes, Nerea was being prepped for an emergency C-section. “I remember lying there, scared and confused. One moment I was pushing, the next I was being prepped for surgery.” When the baby cried, relief washed over her, but so did a strange, heavy sense of failure.
It’s a common, heavy feeling. Even though it’s a life-saving medical intervention, society still likes to whisper that a C-section is the ‘easy way out’ or somehow ‘lesser.’ According to Misryoum, this narrative is not just wrong—it’s actually dangerous.
Dr. Fredrick Kairithia, a consultant obstetrician, puts it bluntly: no two births are identical. The goal is always a healthy mother and baby, regardless of the path taken. “We need to shift the conversation from how the baby was delivered to the fact that both lives were safely preserved,” he says. He notes that C-sections are major surgeries, often done for specific maternal or foetal reasons—whether it’s a small pelvic diameter, fetal distress, or umbilical cord issues. Yet, myths persist. People still claim these babies are more prone to asthma or learning difficulties, which just adds unnecessary stress to the postpartum period.
Then there’s the recovery, which is a beast of its own. I spoke to Janet, who still remembers the smell of fresh, layered chapati—she craved them constantly. But after her C-section, that went out the window. “I couldn’t just eat anything I wanted. Even my beloved chapati had to wait six weeks. My digestion was just… slower,” she says. She couldn’t even try the common practice of wrapping her stomach because of the incision.
Healing from a C-section isn’t just about the physical wound, though. It’s the mental load of recovering from surgery while trying to figure out a newborn. It tests your patience in ways you don’t expect. It’s not just a procedure; it’s a long, slow climb back to yourself—or maybe it’s just a new version of yourself entirely.