My Births

[quantumrose]

I have been meaning to do this for a very long time but since being pregnant my previous births have been coming up in my thoughts a lot. One birth I use as a reassurance that everything can go well and the other for understanding my fear surrounding medical procedures and health care professionals.

So, I'll start with my first birth, the birth of my daughter Evie.

My pregnancy had been straight forward except for one reoccuring problem, everytime anyone went near me with a blood pressure cuff I freaked out. I had what I now realise were panic attacks and this set off a cascade of events which I still suffer for now. Firstly, I was sent to my doctor because my BP was 160/70. It was a long journey to the doctors and I tried to stay calm, knowing that I'd have my BP taken. When I finally got into her office it was worse than I thought. She told me that if I don't keep my BP down I'd have to go on medication and likely as not be induced. Induction leads to epidurals often and epidurals, sometimes to C-sections. So to keep on drinking the camomile tea and chill the hell out. I went into a trance for a while, worrying about this cascade of intervention that would ineviatably happen if I couldn't relax when I had my BP taken. When I took it at home it was ALWAYS fine. So I started keeping a diary of the readings and took them to my next midwife appointment, where she read them, said "It's going to be ok, don't go back to the doctor and stop taking your BP at home, it's scaring you and you don't need to" I cried. Alot. She was so, so lovely. It was the first time at 30 weeks pregnant that anyone had told me what I needed to hear, that it was going to be ok. I'd been so terrified that I hadn't even realised that being reassured was an option.
So, on to 40 weeks pregnant and one night, while watching Superman, my waters broke. i was so excited! I phoned the labor ward and they said to come in the following morning if nothing happens tonight. I had quite intense contractions but by the morning, nothing. So I went up to the hospital and they told me that because of the risk of infection, they induse within 24 hrs if I haven't had the baby but to go home and come back that evening. So I had some acupuncture and waited.....
We went up to the hospital that evening, where they sent Ben home and told hime to come back the following morning at 8. I had a horrible evening, I missed him so much.
In the morning they took me down to the labor ward to start the induction. I kept saying that I needed to wait for my partner to arrive but nobody seemed to care in the slightest. This was when the fear set in. My body was not my own and events were out of my control. At 7.30 they put a canula in to give me the induction drugs. The contractions hit me like a ton of bricks and Ben arrived, looking equally as terrified. The canula tissued and they had to get another anesthetist. This happened 13 times before they reaslised that the machine that I was hooked up to was broken. I had been coping really well with the contractions but was seriously losing my shit by this point and totally broke down. I was a pincusion and my hands had swollen so much I couldn't make a fist because of all the fluids they were giving me. I tried to stay mobile, I tried to stay positive but none of the hcp were talking to us and to be honest, by this point, I didn't trust them.
So 24 hours later, one of the midwives persauded us that an epidural was the only way to go. I didn't want one, I didn't feel tired, I was coping but my will was really broken by this point. I had the epidural and had a sleep. When I woke they were keen to see how far I'd prgressed. After nearly 36 hours, I was 5cm dilated. THAT was crushing. The midwife spoke to a OB in the doorway, the OB was clear that the labor ward was busy and that they couldnt wait for me any longer, I had to have a c-section. The midwife fought my corner so fabulously, that the OB agreed to give me another hour to progress. The pressure was on again. But thankfully, by some miracle, when they checked again I was 9cm dilated. So I was allowed to stay.....The next 2 hours are really detailed in my mind because I've gone over them umpteen times (a side effect of PTSD) and became obsessed with timings and what did who and said what. Plus, I'm chickening out from writing it tonight, so I'll come back and write the rest another time. Good to get it down.....

[quantumrose]

So , I started pushing with my feet in stirrups. I was intensely uncomfortable, the epidural had worn off on half my body and I was twisted so there was immense pressure on the base of my back. I told the OB but was ignored. All she kept repeating in a slightly bored manner was "Just do a big poo, that's what it feels like to have a baby" I could have got over the embarassment if it was said once but she said it over and over again for what felt like hours (it was actually a little over an hour) and I felt humiliated and like I wanted to give up. It was then she decided that she would try forceps. So the resuscitation baby cart was wheeled in. A guy was shouting to one of the midwives about how he hadn't been granted holiday and how unfair it was. He stood there, inspecting his nails and tutting. The OB tried to clip the forceps together inside me but couldn't, she was pulling, stretching and swearing. I was in agony, something really hurt. I can't remember where the pain was but I remember the pain. She briskly told me that "It couldn't hurt". I felt terrified by this point. I was being tortured and I was a piece of meat and the lights were up full and glaring. She then tried the vontous cup, the pulling was excruciating and there was a moment when I thought my intire insides would come out with the baby. Finally my daughter was born, she was here and safe. But the shame I felt has never left me. I didn't feel amazed, I didn't feel love, I felt traumatised. My body had been defiled and left for dead. That's how I felt. Everyone finally left the room.....
I don't remember saying anything. I was starving but couldn't articulate or speak my thoughts. I had been in labour for 72 hours and eaten nothing in that time. I had missed breakfast. I was covered in blood, naked and unable to move for 2 hours before someone came round. She was apologetic and appauled that I had been left that long but I didn't care.
She mentioned that I'd had an episiotomy and how to care for it. I didn't know what she was talking about but nodded. I was taken down to the maternity ward where my husband was told he had to leave as it wasn't visiting time. I wept solidly for ages and clung to my baby, terrified of leaving her. A midwife came round and I ordered the only vegetarian thing available - iceburg lettuce and a boiled egg. By this point I hadn't eaten for nearly 80 hours and I think I was actually going a bit mad! I explained this to the midwife and she said they couldn't make special dispensations for anyone. I asked what would she do if I'd been vegan? She said "You would have lettuce for lunch". I was in the enemy camp. I wasn't safe, nobody cared that I felt like I was dying. My sheets were drenched in blood and when I told a midwife she told me everyone changes their own sheets. So I wobbled my way down the corridor, collected a clean sheet and made my bed. I begged them to discharge me.
I spent the night mostly awake and waiting desperately for the morning. A midwife took my blood pressure and declared it was "slightly high" so I told her I'd been crying. She said "Oh right" made a note and walked away....
I had a numb patch on my thigh (which I still have). I was in a lot of pain with the stitches I'd had. When I checked the size of the cut on my perineum I was so shocked I nearly fell over. My insides ached constantly and I was so weak I could barely lift my arms.
Then they sent me home! Thank god. I couldn't get out of there quick enough.
When I got home the troubles continued. My stitches broke down and I developed an infection. My lovely midwife from when I was pregnant came to see me. She looked at my perineum and was visibly shocked. "Jude, you need to have these stitches re-sutured. And I think the person who did the episiotomy and the stitches needs to look at this. I think you should make a complaint, I've never seen such a severe cut and such terrible stitches." The OB hadn't sutured my muscle, just the skin, so the pain I was feeling was the stitches prising apart. I was also extremely anemic. My husband told me (years later) that when my daughter was born there was so much blood on the floor that the staff were slipping over on it.
So, then followed a heartbreaking, hard, exhausting painful few months where I battled with how I felt physically and emotionally and caring for a newborn. It took me around a month to bond with my daughter, until then I had no emotions about anything. No feelings about her, me , my husband, family, friends, nothing......
When I look back at this I can't help but feel (amongst SO MANY things) a bit proud. That I survived this. That I'm alive and I have a wonderful relationship with my daughter and we made it through together: Me, my husband and my daughter.

[monica]

Thank you for sharing your story . It must have been hard writing that down and yet again relieving the nightmare ; I hope it's been cathartic for you.

What a horrendous experience. I'm appalled at how badly u were treated and I am not suprised you got post traumatic strss fri. Have you put in a complaint? Is that something that would help you ? X

[quantumrose]

Hi Monica, thank you for reading my birth story xx It was difficult re-living it but in a strange way it's given me more strength to have the courage of my convictions about my terror of health care professionals. It's been so long since I thought about WHY I feel this way that I'd almost forgotten. I was treated without compassion and with a severe lack of care and it's taken me years to even find it in myself to even like myself again because every shred of self-love was stripped from me during that experience.
I haven't complained, I couldn't bear to think about what happened until recently and there's a large part of me that wants to forget it rather than work through it. I do feel guilty about the possibility that other women may suffer in the same way because I couldn't find the strength to complain about this awful obstetrician. But I don't think it would help me. I think a hard thing for me to swallow is that I still suffer from the physical and emotional side effects from things that could have been done differently. I have nerve damage in my back from the epidural, a compacted disk from hours lying in the same position after the epidural, a numb patch on my leg from the nerve damage and my perineum never really recovered fully, not to mention the emotional scars. There's a lot to work through, a lot of fear to get over and say goodbye to. Work in progress xxx

[sarajay28]

Omg I am literally speechless after reading that! I'm so so sorry you had to go through this horrendous experience. I am appalled that in this day and age there are still medical staff that think this kind of barbaric treatment is acceptable. It is honestly no wonder you feel the way you do. You said you felt proud that you survived the experience and so you should!
I don't blame you for not wanting to 're-live that time, it's incredibly painful for you, just reading that you can tell. I totally understand not wanting to complain, to rake up the past (my first birth was similar in so many ways) but you do need some kind of closure. Maybe getting it all out in black and white here will be enough.
I feel desperately sad for you that this experience tarnished what should have been an amazing time for you but you are a fighter, you've said you have a great relationship with your daughter and that's brilliant and I think in a weird round about way it's probably made you stronger (even though you don't sometimes feel it)

Huge hugs and well done xx