When it rains it pours...
So much has happened in the couple of weeks I wrote my last post. I'm not sure how I have managed to cope...
Where oh where to begin..
I might as well start at the beginning of this scary rollercoaster ride we cannot get off.
I had my 20 week scan booked at a local hospital radiology clinic and which was the 19th of February, I was unusually nervous because my GP wrote the referral and he messed up the 12 week one. I was worried they wouldn't do the scan, and nearing midway through my 21st week, I knew it was best to get it done sooner rather than later. I was not desperately hoping for a girl, but it did cross my mind a lot.
We arrived, my bladder refusing to co-operate and fill up so I was basically empty so I tried to drink water in the waiting room, and then the tech called me in for the scan. My partner and E were with me and we walked together to the room and I lied down with my belly exposed ready to be scanned.
Of course, my bladder was pretty much empty but that didn't stop the scan, the lady started off as they usually do and then asked if we wanted to know the sex, I knew it was a boy, and when she said it was a boy, I was disappointed but my next thought was, just please be healthy.
The scan was taking a while, she was having troubles getting good pictures of the baby, he was refusing to budge out of my pelvic floor, like it was a hammock. She was spending a fair amount of time looking at his heart, and I could see the blood flow wasn't the same as I was used to seeing. I started to get a little nervous, but thought it was purely his position.
I was asked to roll from side to side as she poked bub to move, then getting me on my hands and knees to wriggle bub out of my pelvis. Then she asked a second tech to come in and be a second pair of eyes. Things didn't click at this time, I'd had a second paid of eyes during a scan before so I thought nothing of it.
Due to how long they had taken trying to get a good look, they decided to ask me to go for a walk and see if I could get more water in and see if I could get him to budge. We went to the café and had a coffee and I paced around our table trying to wriggle bubba around.
When it was time to go back, we were called through and we began again, my bladder had barely filled and he hadn't moved enough to get a good visual on his heart. I still thought very little about it as this had happened twice before with my other babies.
Then they started looking very closely at his heart, and decided to call a Dr in to see what was going on, saying to me they just cant get a good picture so they wanted the Dr to see in real time and explain to me what they were seeing.
I still didn't work out something was up... it seemed normal, they were a little confused but this seemed normal enough.
The Dr came in, and as he was watching the scan I noticed a change in the room. They were seeing something that wasn't normal, and I started to worry.
Then the Dr started talking, he began to explain they could see a defect with baby's heart and that it would need an echo to determine exactly what was going on, I thought not much of it, babies are born with holes in their hearts and they don't always need surgery so I assumed it was something minor but I would need an echo done within a week.
In that instant things began to change for me, my gut feeling that something wasn't perfect was confirmed and I was pretty numb initially. They told me to see my GP asap to get a referral to the hospital for an echo which would have to be done at the hospital. I hadn't even had an antenatal appointment at this point so I was worried they wouldn't fit us in.
With this new information, we walked out of the room and I began to cry for the first time, my partner tried to reassure me but I knew something was wrong. They just had no way of telling us exactly what. We got to the car and I made my partner call my go to make the appointment, they managed to fit us in that afternoon.
When I saw my GP I knew very little, I told him what I was told and he immediately got the report and then made a referral to the hospital, faxing it and then asking me to see them either that night or the next day. I chose to wait the next day, and it was a good thing we did... we were completely unprepared for what was to come.
I read the report as my GP gave me a copy, it detailed the problems with bubs heart and it didn't look good, they had queried Tetralogy of Fallot, a pretty severe combination of heart defects. I tried as hard as I could not to google it, thinking the absolute worst, and when I finally did google, I was a little reassured baby's heart was an easy fix.
Tuesday morning I woke up, I hadn't slept well out of worry. I wanted to get to the hospital as soon as we could that morning and find out exactly what was going to happen and what was wrong with my baby. We arrived around 10, not thinking we would be there all day. We were though.
I got to women's assessment because my GP literally had no clue where to send me, and I gave them the report saying I was told to come in. The midwife at the desk had a read and said to sit down and wait so she could call the right people and see where I should go.
After a few minutes, she came back and said I need to go to the maternal fetal medicine office (MFM), and speak to a midwife called C. So we did. We walked up and told the lady at the desk I was there to see C.
We were led into an office where C read the report and told us they don't do echos every day, only Mondays and Thursdays so they would get a referral in and I would have one either that Thursday or the Monday to come, and then we would know more. She did say there was a doctor on that day who could do a quick scan and see for themselves what was going on so we agreed. We would have to go wait for a little while so we went for a coffee, and then came back when the dr was available about an hour later.
They took me to the ultrasound machine, a brand new one that they were still teaching the OBs to use, the representative was in the room and was explaining how to use it. I had several people in the room at the time, two OBs, one cardiologist and the teaching lady.
They started having a look and said at the beginning, depending on the severity of the heart condition, I may have to give birth interstate at the major hospital next to the children's hospital where the specialist cardiologists are. I began to cry because I had no idea things were that serious, I'd barely wrapped my head around a hospital birth let alone a different state!
It took quite a while for them to finish the scan, saying the only way to know what was going on for sure was when the paed/fetal cardiologist was in to do the echo, but what they were seeing was severe. I was numb.
My baby has a severe heart defect.
The head OB and the other doctors sat us down and explained what they were seeing, and that I would need to birth in hospital and be monitored closely. They explained that sometimes heart defects could indicate a genetic abnormality and suggested an amniocentesis which I agreed to immediately. I knew what was involved and the risks but this was one of those times the information we could get from it was more important. What I didn't expect was practically as soon as I signed the consent form they began to prepare things to get it done. I was asked to get bloods done, this was to confirm I was a negative blood type and see if I had been sensitised, so they could access the anti-D injection post amnio. I was certain it was necessary, despite not willing to have it unnecessarily, I figured if this was so bad that this baby was incompatible with life, I wanted the option to try for another baby... even though this was an extremely painful thought. I'd been feeling my baby move for a couple of weeks, I had a decent belly already and was so scared of having an empty belly with no baby to show for it.
I got the bloods done, my partner had to go get the kids from school so I was alone, met the doctor at the radiology clinic in the hospital, fortunately I didn't wait long. A few moments before I was called in, a friend of mine successfully freebirthed her vbac baby and I was barely able to congratulate her before the dr came to get me, so I was torn between absolute terror and joy...
I got to the room and was greeted by the cardiologist (non specialist one, the one that was with us during the initial MFM scan) and the head OB who was to do my amnio, as well as my midwife C, one of the two MFM midwives. I was starting to get scared, not so much of the needle but what this all represented. I didn't expect that morning to start off like it did, let alone me having an amniocentesis that afternoon, the day after I was given the news my baby had a heart problem.
My midwife held my hand, and they scanned my belly to see where a good pocket of fluid was, and see where baby was. Then they wiped the gel off and sterilised my belly, and I started to get scared.
They quickly scanned again, and baby was out of the way, and then the dr went for it, and oh my freaking gosh, it hurt more than I expected. They pierced me just above my pelvic bone, roughly where a cesarean incision would be but to the left. I panicked, they talked to me and reminded me to breathe, and it felt like it went on forever. I was relieved when it was over, but I was hurting quite a lot. It really did feel like I had been stabbed, despite the needle being extremely thin.
My midwife helped me get up, and they gave me a quick reassurance that baby stayed out of the way, even though I felt him kick like mad during the amnio. I was asked to check the vials of fluid, and sign them, feeling so strange seeing something I would not normally see for many more weeks... the vials were warm, which was confronting... this was my baby's fluid, in my hands, in a little glass vial.
Realisation began to hit me then, I knew things were far more serious than we could have imagined.
I sat with my midwife for a little while and talked about things from birth to past trauma which may affect my care, she is absolutely lovely, I feel so safe in her care. It's amazing what the right person can do despite a really sh*tty situation to make you feel ok.
I had a coffee and she got me a tray of food because I hadn't eaten that day, I was cramping a bit and was waiting for my partner to finish with the kids and come pick me up from the hospital.
It was uncomfortable to walk down to meet him, and I had to be extra careful when I got in the car. But I was relieved we would get answers. I'd be getting a phone call the next day to tell me if I was having the echo the Thursday or Monday, other than that I just went home, cried a lot and was made to sit on my bottom and do nothing but rest. I had my mum call me and I told her not only that I was pregnant (i'd been keeping it quiet, just because I wanted my little secret a little longer) but that baby had a severe heart defect we were assuming was tetralogy of fallot (TOF) we cried together and talked about a lot of things. It was a relief that she knew, and that she would have us in her thoughts. I then posted on my facebook that I was having a baby, with a heart defect, and was overwhelmed with the love and support from my friends all around the world. It was bittersweet, being congratulated, but at the same time them expressing their sadness that this is what my poor baby had, knowing surgery is a definite.
I got the call saying the echo was the Thursday morning, and we began to get nervous. I was looking forward to the cardiologist explaining what was going on, I just didn't expect him to be taken by surprise.
We arrived at radiology that morning, and then after a short wait (we got there early) we were called in and the ultrasound tech was there getting some pictures while we waited for the specialist to arrive, he flew in from interstate that morning, the poor guy had to run off to pee mid scan he was that busy.
I expected to have him talk about what he was seeing as the scan was done, but he and the tech were umming and aaahing, trying their absolute best to see what was going on with bubs heart. It was so long my partner took our toddler out of the room to get lunch from the cafeteria. It seemed like forever they were muttering between themselves trying to work out what was what and what went where. Finally he said a big, ah! and put the wand down, and asked me to come to the next room to explain what was up.
My memory is a little fuzzy here, because so darn much info was given, but basically baby's heart is unique, it had similarities to TOF but some problems were entirely different.
The bottom of his heart, where it is meant to be two separate sections, is just one, the valves where the aorta and pulmonary valve go are on the one side, not where they are meant to be, and his major arteries are on the one side with the flow not going where it needs to. He needs multiple, not just one or two, multiple open heart surgeries. And he may need to have them as early as a newborn, 4 month old or maybe stretch it out to 6 months. It is a combination of severe defects, severe enough the dreaded T word was mentioned.
That's right, it is so bad, his little heart is so messed up, we had the option to terminate the pregnancy.
They can't tell us what repairs will be done, what they can even do for him, whether or not he will need a heart transplant later in life or whether he will be ok at birth. We don't even know if he will have issues outside of his heart. So many questions, and no answers. I was 21 weeks and 5 days, I had until the day before 23 weeks to decide to terminate or not, at 23 weeks baby is viable and therefore it's not allowed to terminate a pregnancy that late.
It didn't feel right to make a decision, but we were open to it if there were other genetic abnormalities that would make for an incredibly sick child with little chance of a halfway decent life, which would destroy our family as it is now. My older kids don't deserve to have their mum and dad taken away from them permanently, as a result of another baby. I am sure they would grieve their baby brother if we did decide to terminate, but it would be less painful in the long run.
We saw the doctors after the echo, so they could explain a little more about what the cardiologists understanding of our situation was, and what it means for us, for antenatal care and so on.
I'm having another echo done at 28 weeks, which is about 5 weeks away now, and another at 34 weeks to ensure he is growing well, his heart is growing the way it needs to given its uniqueness, heart babies sometimes don't grow well, and that's something we need to be aware of otherwise I will have to give birth interstate, much earlier than anticipated.
My birth plan has figuratively gone out the window.
I will need to be induced, so that the right staff are onboard at the time of birth if he isn't ok, and to ensure I am in hospital to me monitored just in case he doesn't tolerate labour, although I have been assured heart babies tend to do well, it's birth that things get iffy. I will have freedom to labour how I want but I have to be aware they may need to take him soon after birth to go to special care for medical help. I am beyond scared, I only know unhindered birth, so the birth I am facing could not be more opposite, and fortunately the MFM team understand and will accommodate my needs and wishes as best as they are able. I may be lucky and only need AROM to start off labour, otherwise I'd be having, at least initially, artificial oxytocin, with the promise they can turn it off if I need/ want. I have been told I can labour freely, with wireless monitors, and access the shower (if I had longer labours the bath would have been acceptable but I don't, it's too dangerous to birth a heart baby in water) which I am ok with, I don't really like water birthing very much, I need to feel grounded and I don't have to go near the bed if I don't want to, I can birth him on the floor and catch him myself if I want, I just have to be aware there will not only be two midwives at the actual birth, but a specialist or two to assess bubba when he's out just in case he has to go to the nursery sooner.. I am anticipating him going for an echo soon after birth, hopefully I have the golden hour and can go with him in that circumstance, but my partner won't be leaving his side.
On Tuesday, we went back to the MFM team for an antenatal, the first official one, and I spoke with the midwife about all the things on my mind at the time. Then we were waiting for the OB to come chat with us, so we went to the labour ward as I asked to see it, only for all the rooms to be full except one, the one room I'm pretty sure she said I wouldn't be put in. It smelled so clinical, and it began to trigger my PTSD. I started to doubt continuing the pregnancy was a good idea, Could I even go through with this pregnancy knowing what potentially greets me at the end? She told me some policies, such as it's policy to have a managed 3rd stage with any type of induction although I am free to refuse that, policy isn't law I quoted which she agreed. I asked what I was facing with a basic induction, and I didn't like one thing I heard... more triggers from my past, having no choice as to what happens to me and my body... I started to feel like I was nothing more than a vessel for a sick baby... a sick baby that in my mind had a 50/50 chance at life.
We got back to MFM and I was beginning to hate the idea of being pregnant. I'd been having some moments where termination was what I wanted, what was best. This was one of these times... when the dr came to see me, I let it all out and gave her the impression I was very sure I wanted to end it but didn't know how to tell my partner. She said she wanted to speak with us both, and make sure we are both aware of how serious this situation it is, and that either decision would be supported. I asked her about termination, what would be involved, and that was enough to shock me. I asked about induction and whether I could be free to wait more than an hour or so before beginning the drip if labour didn't start soon after AROM and she assured me they are willing to work with me, and aren't there to demand things or try to overly control a situation that has to be somewhat controlled.
I started to feel a little better but promised to come back the next day to chat with them and my partner. And make a final decision, I had 3 days to decide to keep the pregnancy or not, which is nowhere near enough time, and we were literally in the dark when it came to baby's condition, whether he was 'fixable' or not, we were asked to make an incredibly difficult decision with half the information, and bugger all time but it was all we had. I was devastated.
I got picked up and we started talking about our situation, that there are heart problems, and then there are heart problems... his is as severe as you can get basically, it's not just a plumbing issue.
We got home and some more, we were utterly heartbroken. We ended up going to bed very early, and I cried myself to sleep. As I saw it, I would either guarantee I was a mother of a dead baby, or a mother or a sick baby who could die, or a mother or a sick baby who can still lead a relatively normal life. I kept going through my head what the termination would be like, and the thought of them taking away my tiny immature baby, who I allowed to take his last breath in my presence, possibly attempting to cry before dying, as a result of MY decision. It broke me, I've never cried so hard in my life, of course I couldn't say this but my partner held me tight as I cried. I didn't think letting my baby die was the right choice, whatever faced us couldn't be as bad as me willingly killing my baby... no matter how sick he was. The sadness I felt was as heartbreaking as actually losing a baby, I certainly grieved for a healthy baby I had been expecting prior to the scan.
I was able to verbalise some of what I was feeling the next morning over coffee, he agreed, to terminate a baby that might cry and die, was like murder, it was killing our baby and we couldn't see how it was an ok decision to make.
The next day we arrived early, and met with the team again. This time we talked things through and came to the decision that although we knew we were facing an incredibly difficult time ahead, and knowing our baby was in for multiple surgeries, with no way of knowing if he would be ok. We know we will be relocating interstate for at the very least a few weeks to a few months. Our family life will be very much disturbed, we don't know when for anything, but we know that we want to give our baby the best chance at life, we wont be able to live with ourselves if we don't.
The cardiac nurse came in and gave us a run down of how the transfers will happen, what charities are available to us, and that accommodation will be subsidised. I know that if baby has to be flown straight away, its likely I will be able to go with him, and if I'm not well enough my partner will. They will fly two people so I could bring my mum if my partner has to stay with the kids before driving them over. Either way, we're not alone in this, it's just working out the logistics of this and it depends heavily on his condition during the pregnancy and immediately after birth. I'm not giving up hope he is stable and can go home with us and we wait for the surgery to be scheduled later rather than sooner.
So where we are at now, I got a phone call with the remaining amnio results, and everything came back normal. It is a huge relief. I'm 22 weeks and 5 days, and I am looking forward to continuing being pregnant, seeing my belly grow and to love this little baby however long we are blessed with him. I am crocheting him a little blanket to keep with him when he has his surgeries, hoping it's later rather than sooner.
I have another antenatal on Tuesday, I have requested to have regular appointments even if it's a quick scan to see baby is doing ok at that time. I will need all the reassurance I can get.
I am so very scared for my baby, and for his future. I have so many worries and questions nobody can answer. However, I have hope. Hope that he will be fine and fight like a warrior through whatever difficulties he faces. I love him so very much already, I already cannot imagine life without him.
Wednesday, 28 February 2018
Sunday, 4 February 2018
Odd dream
I had a really odd dream this morning, it felt so real yet it was so ridiculous!
I was in my parents lounge room and I realised I had to push, so I started demanding towels and something plastic to go under the towels. Then I demanded everyone leave the room. I pushed my baby out gently (none of that stinging) and not long after the placenta came out, with a gentle tug on the cord from me because it was sticking to me inside. The odd thing is the placenta didn't look like a placenta, more a steak haha it was squarish and no defining features that make it look placenta like, not even a cord, cotyledons were missing and no sign of a sac. So odd.
I was in my parents lounge room and I realised I had to push, so I started demanding towels and something plastic to go under the towels. Then I demanded everyone leave the room. I pushed my baby out gently (none of that stinging) and not long after the placenta came out, with a gentle tug on the cord from me because it was sticking to me inside. The odd thing is the placenta didn't look like a placenta, more a steak haha it was squarish and no defining features that make it look placenta like, not even a cord, cotyledons were missing and no sign of a sac. So odd.
Friday, 2 February 2018
My life journey since E was born
It has been some time now, since I wrote last. A lot of things have been happening and I have been on a journey of self discovery since the birth of my last baby.
First thing is first, my immediate postpartum experience was traumatic and took me years to get into a better headspace. I didn't talk about it much when I shared his birth story. His actual birth was pretty good, no real complaints other than I chose to have the wrong people at my birth.
I love my family with all my heart, but they're from a different mindset than I am, and unfortunately that shone brightly when my baby was born. The first issue was I felt very much observed and like I had to be a hostess instead of focusing within and labouring away.
I remember sitting on my gym ball, bouncing away while chatting to my sister and mum, my partner and dad were outside. the contractions were coming fairly often, although irregular and barely painful. I knew I needed to focus within, but I was constantly made to focus on what was going on around me. Occasionally I was able to ignore everything and focus on the labour sensations, but as soon as it was over, bam, back to reality. I never went off into labour land, a place I am very familiar with and feel safe.
I remember wanting a drink so bad, and I was (looking back) obviously in transition. If I was in my 'right mind' I would have never considered sending my partner to go to the shops into town more than 15 minutes away for something ridiculous like a Gatorade, especially since I was in labour and usually cannot stand him being in another room, I needed his presence.
In hindsight, I prepared my family badly for the realities of homebirth. I never explained that I would be asking for things that are impossible, or inappropriate at the time and to think more into what I was asking. I'm asking for a drink, because I was thirsty, not because I needed Gatorade from the shops.
I remember the contractions intensified and my mum and sister watching, during a contraction mum took a photo, and then a short video. I laugh about my comment at the time, I know I asked for video, at the time I was like 'why are you recording' to have mum reply 'you wanted a memento right?'. True, I did, and I am glad I have that footage because it was taken less than 20 minutes before baby was here, she's used it as 'proof' you can't tell when someone is literally about to have a baby when they go all textbook saying usually they're quiet, screaming and unable to talk... I was chatting, laughing and pacing around. Never trust a precipitous birther basically, labour isn't textbook.
For some reason, which still bothers me, my dad and partner were out the front talking, obviously thinking I had hours to go. I remember sending mum out to make them (in my mind I'm thinking just dad, leave my partner here with me) go get me a drink from the shops, and in the short time she was out of the room my waters went. Pop, trickle, trickle. A strange sensation since I was always either pushing when this happened or my midwife had broken them (first birth).
I assumed I was still in early labour but on my waddle down the hallway to the bathroom I felt pressure. My sister rushed outside to tell them my waters broke, my partner knowing immediately it's go time, rushed in and started filling the bathtub while I'm kneeling on the floor in front of the toilet.
While the bath was filling, I checked myself in front of my sister and mum, they didn't understand what I was doing at the time, but that's the moment I realised baby was coming much sooner, and less painfully than my other births.
The pressure was insane, it's all I felt during and in between contractions and when I had a contraction it took all my focus. I remember leaning against the bath and listening to the quiet chatter only breathlessly say to them to be quiet. I needed absolute silence, and I needed to hold my partner's hand. He kept me grounded.
When the bath was full, my partner tried to help me up, I didn't really want to move but the idea of the water was too enticing.
When I got in the bath, I felt an immediate release of tension.
I took of my crop top, joking about pooping in the bath, and when everyone except my partner left, my body just went for it. The Foetal Ejection Reflex is no joke.
I remembered thinking I had to take it slow, but I also remembered thinking, quick get this baby out before someone comes in. I pushed his head out, feeling myself tear, and waited for the rest of him to follow with the next contraction. All I could think was, keep him under the water I don't want him to drown.
Whoosh, out came baby. At that time my family came into the room, but I didn't notice. I was wondering why I couldn't pull him to my chest and saw a nuchal cord, my partner and I working seamlessly together (because this was not our first nuchal cord birth) and flipped him in a way that the cord fell away, and I brought him to my chest.
The rush of oxytocin flooded my body and I cried joyfully.
Then things went downhill....
Due to the speed of the birth, bub was a slow starter, and that is entirely normal. I knew as long as that cord was intact, he was getting oxygen. So I didn't try rubbing him to get him to cry like they do in the movies, he was making faces, wriggling upon my now empty womb and colour was slowly coming to his little body. I said hello to him and soaked in his littleness.
I was in awe of this tiny little body who's home was my womb.
Mum rushed over and grabbed a towel, one I don't think was even clean, definitely not one I had aside for the birth (I had a pile in the lounge on my bookshelf, along with other things for the birth like a receiving blanket) and began to rub his head, to make him cry. She did it for only a couple of seconds, I can't even remember if he cried because I was wondering what on earth is she doing, I said he's ok a couple of times and she backed away. I know the speed of the birth shocked her, and her medical training kicked in, so I wish in hindsight I had prepared her.
I do remember hearing a cry, and dad relieved saying that's what we wanted to hear. I snuggled my little boy, but the initial euphoria was gone and replaced with a sense of extreme vulnerability. I looked up to my family for the first time and announced his name, tears in my dads eyes. It was a happy moment, just not the euphoric birth I had with my other children. It's not anyone's fault, because this birth was a shock for us all. I had barely 10 minutes to comprehend I was actually about to give birth and suddenly I was doing it.
Because I felt vulnerable, I wanted out of the bath. I had help getting up, and they helped me sit on a chair. I felt a little weak, as you do after a precipitous birth.
I showed my little ones their new brother, I gave him his first breastfeed and soaked in his little adorable face and swollen little ears.
Mum covered my back with a towel, I must have been shivering except I wasn't cold. You almost always get the shakes after birth, no matter how the baby came out, as it's a rush of hormones flooding your body (I say almost, in case there are people who haven't experienced it, yet I have seen it in 100% of my clients, friends and birth videos I have seen as well as experiencing it first hand).
I started feeling pretty weak, I needed to lie down and asked to be helped to the lounge. I had it in my mind that there would be an adequate amount of towels and I would be helped to lie down, but instead there was one towel, and I was placed to sit on it. I kept trying to lean back, wanting to put my feet up. I wasn't in the headspace to say anything, but I will remember it forever for future births, whether it's mine or a birth I attend as a doula.
I started feeling super thirsty, so mum gave me an orange juice, and then I started feeling really dizzy, and was seeing stars. I knew this could mean I was having an issue with bleeding, and since the placenta wasn't out yet it was possible there was bleeding behind it and we wouldn't get any symptoms besides the symptoms I was experiencing.
I asked mum to check my BP, and it was significantly low (80 over something) and in that moment, I decided to transfer to hospital. I knew nobody in that room was going to be able to help me if I was haemorrhaging behind the placenta, and I had to act fast. I was getting very strong contractions but the placenta wasn't coming like it had in the past.
I asked mum to help me cut the cord, and they covered me with my favourite dressing gown. dad and my partner were getting the car ready and we were on the way to the hospital within minutes of me making the decision to go...
We arrived at the hospital, and unfortunately dad drove us to the emergency side not the birthing side, and they rushed me in.. this is where my trauma took place. I knew I made the right decision to go, but I wasn't prepared for what was to come.
They dragged me to a bed, one that was high and narrow, and mum held my baby. The small cubicle was full of at least 5 people. The midwife rushed in and took over, making demands and I heard my partner say I didn't want the needle for the placenta because they were discussing how to get it.
She started pushing on my belly and pulling the cord, it hurt a lot. I said please stop, and she did, momentarily, only to grab the cord and push my belly once again. I don't remember how many times she did this, but I kept asking her to stop and kept looking around the room for someone to tell her to leave me alone. Someone was with my family looking over my baby, nobody was focusing on me... I was merely a placenta that needed to come out, no consideration to how much pain they were inflicting on me or the fact that I had asked them to stop. I was so scared I was going to start bleeding because she was attempting to rip out a placenta that wasn't ready to come out, especially because I hadn't had syntocin to speed up the process, I would have consented had I know how desperate they were to rip it out.
MY blood pressure was normal, so I knew I wasn't actually bleeding out, my BP at home would have been a result of standing, and sitting instead of lying down.
The only angel in the room said the one thing I had hoped for, 'why don't we put baby to the breast and see of that helps the placenta release'.. whoever she was, she got my baby back to me, I needed him so much.
The midwife kept pulling and pushing, until I felt a massive RIP within me and intense pain as she pulled my placenta out.. I was relieved it was out, because it meant she would stop touching me, the exact words I said were "Thank f*ck for that" to hear panicked shushing... like I didn't deserve to be relieved, like they didn't want to admit I was a person... I was wrong in thinking she would leave me along, she tried to examine my vagina, I kept trying to close my legs. She said I had a tear that needs stitches, and they'll get the doctor to stitch me up. I thought yeah, fine, it will be like my second birth where they gave me some local and it was a painless experience.
They tried to take away my placenta once they had examined it and established it was intact. I said no, I want to keep it, so they wrapped it in the absorbent cloth and handed it to me once I was sitting in a wheelchair. It was warm and quite heavy, definitely thicker than my last placenta. They wheeled me to the maternity ward, I don't know who carried my baby with us, but I am pretty sure it was my partner.
Everything was a blur, I was glad to be away from that midwife. Although to this day, I'm not even sure whether there were one or two and if the midwife who ignored my requests to not be touched was the one who followed.
I was in a bed, wearing a gown, while the midwife fussed over my baby. I remember he pooped and mum started gathering things to wash him, like a flannel and some gentle soap, and the midwife so rudely said 'no, it's my job' taking the things out of her hands. She began using toxic Johnsons & Johnsons baby wipes, very roughly cleaning my baby. I was so stunned, I wanted someone who loved my baby to care for him, and seeing how rough she was with him, was horrifying. Mum was visibly upset, I was too stunned to say anything. I started to get angry. I haven't been able to let that anger go.
She did the usual checks and made me feel like I couldn't say no to the vitamin k injection, something I was not wanting. She stabbed him, he cried and I had to detach myself from that moment. She bundled him up and handed him around the room to my family, I'm not even sure if my partner got a cuddle until I was being examined again.... I have photos from this time, I faked a smile while I lie feeling dead inside with my baby being handed around... I was happy my parents got to have a hold, but I wanted him first.
My parents realised I would need clothes so they left the three of us to buy me something special, and because my gown was thrown away covered in blood. My partner, I think, was finally having a cuddle and the midwife came in and said the doctor was coming to check on me. she started breaking down the bed and got the stirrups up and put my legs in them. I said how on earth could anyone give birth like this, it was demeaning!! I don't think she liked my comment.....She covered my vagina with a sheet, turning on the spotlight and walked out to get the doctor, not without saying first "you're on display now" I still feel disgusting at this comment.
The doctor came in and they gave me gas and air, I started to panic when he started to touch me because I realised he was going to examine me and then stitch me with no pain relief, gas is in no way adequate for stitching such a sensitive area. He wasn't gentle, and the midwife held me down 'comforting' me, while I was squirming away due to the pain. Her attempt at comforting me was the worst thing she could have done to someone with a history of being held down in hospital.. it triggered my PTSD from when I had a severe bowel obstruction and they were shoving a NG tube down my nose saying I had to let it happen or I'd die leaving my newborn baby girl without a mum.
I begged them to stop, and it took way too long for him to leave me alone. they kept telling me in needed stitched and to stay still, but I was already triggered. I wasn't having any of it and refused treatment. The doctor spoke to me like I was a child, and sais to be don't come in crying with a damaged pelvic floor because I refused to let him stitch me. I thought who cares, you weren't going to numb ne up and I cant even see how bad the tear is to know whether to agree with his opinion that I even needed stitches. I'm of the opinion he would have stitched a graze if it was there, I've heard nasty things about him from other people who have had him at their births.
The midwife had released me, he took a step back, and asked if I was sure I didn't want to be stitched, when I said yes he rudely sighed, turned around and ripped his gloves off, waving his hands in the air as a sign of rude defeat before leaving the room. The midwife may have said something but I didn't care. I was getting some of my confidence back.
I was so angry.
The midwife tried to make excuses but I ignored her. I had enough and wanted to go home.
She left the room to do paperwork.
They hadn't even offered me a drink, yet I was to be there for 7 hours before I was discharged. After the midwife left the room I asked my poor stunned and horrified partner to go get a drink from the vending machine, while I held my baby. We had been separated way too long, I'm not even sure if I tried to breastfeed him again.
While my partner was getting a drink the midwife popped her head in the room and asked about my crohns and medication, I told her I was on Humira as my Crohn's is severe, she snaps back 'you got all your bowels?" I said yes, not bothering to mention I had a resection due to a perforation when I was a child, unrelated to my crohns, she says rudely "you don't have it bad then" and walks out... I started to cry at that point... She in just 2 seconds managed to invalidate the enormous amount of suffering I had gone through prior to and during my pregnancy. I was only on biologics to avoid surgery, she had no idea how close I was to losing a good 15cm of my terminal ilium, had no idea how many times my disease tried to kill me nor the amount of pain I was tortured with for 8 months. I wasn't just angry anymore, I was pissed!!
My partner came back and gave me a drink, he had to search the hospital for a machine and was utterly horrified at the comment the midwife made and how she had left me. We insisted on discharge as soon as she came back, I'm not even sure why she came back. I wish I had a second midwife I could have asked to not allow her back into my room.
My mum and I think my brother came to see us, as she gave me a cute little set of pyjamas to put on after I had a shower, I was uncomfortable having my brother in the room but it was not an issue at all after what I had been through. I took a 5 second shower because the water pressure was awful, a complete waste of time, considering I had the kind nurse from ER wash my legs for me. I got dressed and was anxiously waiting to leave. SEVEN FREAKING HOURS I was locked up in that torture hole.
The midwife helped us get to our car, acting like she had done the best thing in the world for us, and I just wanted to run away from her. I was so relieved to be sitting on my sore and swollen behind, on my way to my safe space...
I was numb for a while, I remembered I should announce my son's birth, not realising my sister had already mentioned it on Facebook, taking away yet one more thing from me that day... something I find unforgiveable. I couldn't go into the birth details, I wanted to forget so I merely said it was a fast birth but we were ok now. When my family got me settled they left, telling me how proud they were of me. Not knowing that inside I was a broken person. I ripped off the armband the hospital put on me as fast as I could, I threw it away even though I have a weird thing with collecting them.
My brother in law was notified and he came for a quick visit, I just wanted to be alone and I could tell he realised that. When I was on my own I started to break down, but I kept a smile on my face when anyone saw me. The kids didn't need to see how broken I was.
I didn't sleep that night, I kept reliving every moment. the pain, the rude comments, being held down... I cried and cried while I held my newborn son skin to skin, I knew I was going to find it difficult getting over that experience. I was grateful I birthed my baby at home on my terms, instead of being induced with a midwife I didn't truly trust, I was grateful he was healthy and was breastfeeding well. I tried to tell myself I should be happy, but I was anything but.
I spent the next few days in a sleepless daze, my only saving grace was my sweet baby boy. I shared a selfie the morning after the birth and mum commented on how exhausted I looked and begged me to get some rest. She didn't know yet, that I spent that night awake and crying.
It was maybe two days before I called the hospital and made a formal complaint and the midwife was incredibly compassionate, I am forever grateful she listened to me and validated my feelings.
A few days later I got a letter from the hospital with the birth details on it to give to my GP when I went in for a check-up (although I never do them) and the details were all wrong. It said it had been 2 hours before the placenta had come, the birth time was wrong and it stated I had a second degree tear... the very thing I had asked about when they insisted I needed stitching, although they refused to give me information. I know exactly what 1st, second, third and fourth degree tears are, I assumed at the time they used a different grading system... they didn't, they just withheld information from me.
I panicked, tried checking my tear and seeing if it really should have been stitched and couldn't tell so I panicked even more and called the hospital, imagining a gaping hole in my vagina where it was now too late to heal properly (as the best time to receive stitches is within 48h).
I requested the head midwife, the one I had spoken to days before when making my complaint and she said to come in and she will see me herself. So I did, I felt safe, I knew she actually cared.
When I arrived I found I was curling myself up, almost shielding myself from the hospital itself. my voice barely worked as I asked to see the midwife and when she came to get me I overheard the other midwife comment very quietly on how upset and scared I had looked, the midwife I was there to see said I'd had a very difficult time and that was why I was there.... validation once again.
She took me to the birth centre, a completely different part of the birth ward, where there was a double bed and a birth pool. We chatted about why I was there and more in depth about the disgraceful treatment I received and she was horrified. She said to me I was absolutely right about cord traction and pulling the placenta could definitely cause the bleeding I was so afraid of. She said I was obviously well informed and know what I was talking about. I was promised the midwife would be reprimanded and she would call a staff meeting to remind them about consent and non-consent. I didn't even have the energy to go into the Doctor's attitude... I got a letter a few weeks later explaining the action that was taken.. she kept her job only because she wasn't a regular member of the staff.
She checked my tear and said she wouldn't have bothered stitching me up and was surprised they wanted to, I was reassured that it was healing and I won't have issues with it at all. Having the opportunity to debrief with someone who had access to my notes took some weight off my shoulders, when I went home, I finally got some sleep.
It was still a looong road of recovery. I had bouts of rage and had nothing but flashbacks on his birthday. Every time I looked at the clock I was remembering what had been happening at that time and I was relieved when his birthday was over. I'm glad it was only his first birthday, he will never remember not having a cake. When he was 18 months old I had enough and started antidepressants, the first lot I was given I had a severe reaction to, I tried to kill myself even though I wasn't suicidal. Then I went on another class of antidepressants and slowly, the pain within was fading and I was able to see things from a different perspective. I was able to celebrate his second birthday with no flashbacks. I started a course in Aged Care, wanting to take a break from birth for a while, and I was in a pretty good place for a while.
I finished my course and did my work placement, which went alright, I was gaining confidence thinking about getting a job there until I was told to feed someone who should never have been fed by a student. She choked, her face went blue and although I was able to resolve the issue and was praised with my professionalism, but with that experience, all my confidence was gone. I knew I would not be able to work in aged care, I struggled enough as it was to go in every day and see people near to death.. birth is where I am meant to be.
I took a couple of weeks to process what happened and with my partner's full support we decided although I spent over a thousand to do the course, I was not going to work in aged care, and I would pursue my certification as a birth doula.
So, as of the end of January, I have been a student of Childbirth International, slowly making my way through the course. Not long after I was getting requests to be their birth doula and I was ecstatic! Throughout the year I went to a few births and some beautiful relationships were formed. I witnessed so much joy and I decided to start weaning myself off of the antidepressants late August. It was hard, oh so hard, whenever I was almost weaned I would get intense itching all over and many times I took another tablet just to stop it. It took a few weeks but I got myself off, and I didn't slip back into depression. In September I had the opportunity to start the Stillbirthday course, to become a bereavement doula, I want to be able to support my future clients if the unfortunate was to happen, I would not want to abandon them in a way and not be able to give the support I know they deserve, I am not certified yet, I've got a little ways to go before that happens.
Fast forward to now, I'm doing really well and eagerly anticipating the 3rd birthday of my littlest, the 5th birthday of my first planned freebirth bub, the 9th birthday of my daughter and the little boy whose birth changed me forever by being impatient and coming after just 90 minutes of labour at home in my bathroom, will be turning 7.... I cannot believe how much my life has changed and how awesome it is right now.
That isn't all though, as of today (Saturday the 3rd of Feb), I am 19 weeks with our fifth child!!!! We are beyond excited, I have been quite sick this time around. I actually got bad enough to need a few admissions into hospital for rehydration, as recently as last week I was given 3 litres of fluids!! I am feeling better though this week, yesterday was the first time I didn't throw up, although today I haven't been as lucky today.
I have delayed seeing a care provider, so at this point in time I am unassisted. I am honestly afraid of having to go back into a hospital for pregnancy, even though this is a different hospital which I know and like.
I am nervous and excited, I am once again hoping for a little girl but right now I only care that the baby is healthy, and developing as they should be. I'm fully intending to have another freebirth, unless something comes up that means it would be unsafe.
I will update occasionally, as currently there has been little change week by week except for my belly getting bigger :)
This ended up far longer than I had planned, if you managed to read all the way through, thank you. I may have to go back and review this, but at this moment I am just clicking publish with my thoughts as they are.
Namaste x
First thing is first, my immediate postpartum experience was traumatic and took me years to get into a better headspace. I didn't talk about it much when I shared his birth story. His actual birth was pretty good, no real complaints other than I chose to have the wrong people at my birth.
I love my family with all my heart, but they're from a different mindset than I am, and unfortunately that shone brightly when my baby was born. The first issue was I felt very much observed and like I had to be a hostess instead of focusing within and labouring away.
I remember sitting on my gym ball, bouncing away while chatting to my sister and mum, my partner and dad were outside. the contractions were coming fairly often, although irregular and barely painful. I knew I needed to focus within, but I was constantly made to focus on what was going on around me. Occasionally I was able to ignore everything and focus on the labour sensations, but as soon as it was over, bam, back to reality. I never went off into labour land, a place I am very familiar with and feel safe.
I remember wanting a drink so bad, and I was (looking back) obviously in transition. If I was in my 'right mind' I would have never considered sending my partner to go to the shops into town more than 15 minutes away for something ridiculous like a Gatorade, especially since I was in labour and usually cannot stand him being in another room, I needed his presence.
In hindsight, I prepared my family badly for the realities of homebirth. I never explained that I would be asking for things that are impossible, or inappropriate at the time and to think more into what I was asking. I'm asking for a drink, because I was thirsty, not because I needed Gatorade from the shops.
I remember the contractions intensified and my mum and sister watching, during a contraction mum took a photo, and then a short video. I laugh about my comment at the time, I know I asked for video, at the time I was like 'why are you recording' to have mum reply 'you wanted a memento right?'. True, I did, and I am glad I have that footage because it was taken less than 20 minutes before baby was here, she's used it as 'proof' you can't tell when someone is literally about to have a baby when they go all textbook saying usually they're quiet, screaming and unable to talk... I was chatting, laughing and pacing around. Never trust a precipitous birther basically, labour isn't textbook.
For some reason, which still bothers me, my dad and partner were out the front talking, obviously thinking I had hours to go. I remember sending mum out to make them (in my mind I'm thinking just dad, leave my partner here with me) go get me a drink from the shops, and in the short time she was out of the room my waters went. Pop, trickle, trickle. A strange sensation since I was always either pushing when this happened or my midwife had broken them (first birth).
I assumed I was still in early labour but on my waddle down the hallway to the bathroom I felt pressure. My sister rushed outside to tell them my waters broke, my partner knowing immediately it's go time, rushed in and started filling the bathtub while I'm kneeling on the floor in front of the toilet.
While the bath was filling, I checked myself in front of my sister and mum, they didn't understand what I was doing at the time, but that's the moment I realised baby was coming much sooner, and less painfully than my other births.
The pressure was insane, it's all I felt during and in between contractions and when I had a contraction it took all my focus. I remember leaning against the bath and listening to the quiet chatter only breathlessly say to them to be quiet. I needed absolute silence, and I needed to hold my partner's hand. He kept me grounded.
When the bath was full, my partner tried to help me up, I didn't really want to move but the idea of the water was too enticing.
When I got in the bath, I felt an immediate release of tension.
I took of my crop top, joking about pooping in the bath, and when everyone except my partner left, my body just went for it. The Foetal Ejection Reflex is no joke.
I remembered thinking I had to take it slow, but I also remembered thinking, quick get this baby out before someone comes in. I pushed his head out, feeling myself tear, and waited for the rest of him to follow with the next contraction. All I could think was, keep him under the water I don't want him to drown.
Whoosh, out came baby. At that time my family came into the room, but I didn't notice. I was wondering why I couldn't pull him to my chest and saw a nuchal cord, my partner and I working seamlessly together (because this was not our first nuchal cord birth) and flipped him in a way that the cord fell away, and I brought him to my chest.
The rush of oxytocin flooded my body and I cried joyfully.
Then things went downhill....
Due to the speed of the birth, bub was a slow starter, and that is entirely normal. I knew as long as that cord was intact, he was getting oxygen. So I didn't try rubbing him to get him to cry like they do in the movies, he was making faces, wriggling upon my now empty womb and colour was slowly coming to his little body. I said hello to him and soaked in his littleness.
I was in awe of this tiny little body who's home was my womb.
Mum rushed over and grabbed a towel, one I don't think was even clean, definitely not one I had aside for the birth (I had a pile in the lounge on my bookshelf, along with other things for the birth like a receiving blanket) and began to rub his head, to make him cry. She did it for only a couple of seconds, I can't even remember if he cried because I was wondering what on earth is she doing, I said he's ok a couple of times and she backed away. I know the speed of the birth shocked her, and her medical training kicked in, so I wish in hindsight I had prepared her.
I do remember hearing a cry, and dad relieved saying that's what we wanted to hear. I snuggled my little boy, but the initial euphoria was gone and replaced with a sense of extreme vulnerability. I looked up to my family for the first time and announced his name, tears in my dads eyes. It was a happy moment, just not the euphoric birth I had with my other children. It's not anyone's fault, because this birth was a shock for us all. I had barely 10 minutes to comprehend I was actually about to give birth and suddenly I was doing it.
Because I felt vulnerable, I wanted out of the bath. I had help getting up, and they helped me sit on a chair. I felt a little weak, as you do after a precipitous birth.
I showed my little ones their new brother, I gave him his first breastfeed and soaked in his little adorable face and swollen little ears.
Mum covered my back with a towel, I must have been shivering except I wasn't cold. You almost always get the shakes after birth, no matter how the baby came out, as it's a rush of hormones flooding your body (I say almost, in case there are people who haven't experienced it, yet I have seen it in 100% of my clients, friends and birth videos I have seen as well as experiencing it first hand).
I started feeling pretty weak, I needed to lie down and asked to be helped to the lounge. I had it in my mind that there would be an adequate amount of towels and I would be helped to lie down, but instead there was one towel, and I was placed to sit on it. I kept trying to lean back, wanting to put my feet up. I wasn't in the headspace to say anything, but I will remember it forever for future births, whether it's mine or a birth I attend as a doula.
I started feeling super thirsty, so mum gave me an orange juice, and then I started feeling really dizzy, and was seeing stars. I knew this could mean I was having an issue with bleeding, and since the placenta wasn't out yet it was possible there was bleeding behind it and we wouldn't get any symptoms besides the symptoms I was experiencing.
I asked mum to check my BP, and it was significantly low (80 over something) and in that moment, I decided to transfer to hospital. I knew nobody in that room was going to be able to help me if I was haemorrhaging behind the placenta, and I had to act fast. I was getting very strong contractions but the placenta wasn't coming like it had in the past.
I asked mum to help me cut the cord, and they covered me with my favourite dressing gown. dad and my partner were getting the car ready and we were on the way to the hospital within minutes of me making the decision to go...
We arrived at the hospital, and unfortunately dad drove us to the emergency side not the birthing side, and they rushed me in.. this is where my trauma took place. I knew I made the right decision to go, but I wasn't prepared for what was to come.
They dragged me to a bed, one that was high and narrow, and mum held my baby. The small cubicle was full of at least 5 people. The midwife rushed in and took over, making demands and I heard my partner say I didn't want the needle for the placenta because they were discussing how to get it.
She started pushing on my belly and pulling the cord, it hurt a lot. I said please stop, and she did, momentarily, only to grab the cord and push my belly once again. I don't remember how many times she did this, but I kept asking her to stop and kept looking around the room for someone to tell her to leave me alone. Someone was with my family looking over my baby, nobody was focusing on me... I was merely a placenta that needed to come out, no consideration to how much pain they were inflicting on me or the fact that I had asked them to stop. I was so scared I was going to start bleeding because she was attempting to rip out a placenta that wasn't ready to come out, especially because I hadn't had syntocin to speed up the process, I would have consented had I know how desperate they were to rip it out.
MY blood pressure was normal, so I knew I wasn't actually bleeding out, my BP at home would have been a result of standing, and sitting instead of lying down.
The only angel in the room said the one thing I had hoped for, 'why don't we put baby to the breast and see of that helps the placenta release'.. whoever she was, she got my baby back to me, I needed him so much.
The midwife kept pulling and pushing, until I felt a massive RIP within me and intense pain as she pulled my placenta out.. I was relieved it was out, because it meant she would stop touching me, the exact words I said were "Thank f*ck for that" to hear panicked shushing... like I didn't deserve to be relieved, like they didn't want to admit I was a person... I was wrong in thinking she would leave me along, she tried to examine my vagina, I kept trying to close my legs. She said I had a tear that needs stitches, and they'll get the doctor to stitch me up. I thought yeah, fine, it will be like my second birth where they gave me some local and it was a painless experience.
They tried to take away my placenta once they had examined it and established it was intact. I said no, I want to keep it, so they wrapped it in the absorbent cloth and handed it to me once I was sitting in a wheelchair. It was warm and quite heavy, definitely thicker than my last placenta. They wheeled me to the maternity ward, I don't know who carried my baby with us, but I am pretty sure it was my partner.
Everything was a blur, I was glad to be away from that midwife. Although to this day, I'm not even sure whether there were one or two and if the midwife who ignored my requests to not be touched was the one who followed.
I was in a bed, wearing a gown, while the midwife fussed over my baby. I remember he pooped and mum started gathering things to wash him, like a flannel and some gentle soap, and the midwife so rudely said 'no, it's my job' taking the things out of her hands. She began using toxic Johnsons & Johnsons baby wipes, very roughly cleaning my baby. I was so stunned, I wanted someone who loved my baby to care for him, and seeing how rough she was with him, was horrifying. Mum was visibly upset, I was too stunned to say anything. I started to get angry. I haven't been able to let that anger go.
She did the usual checks and made me feel like I couldn't say no to the vitamin k injection, something I was not wanting. She stabbed him, he cried and I had to detach myself from that moment. She bundled him up and handed him around the room to my family, I'm not even sure if my partner got a cuddle until I was being examined again.... I have photos from this time, I faked a smile while I lie feeling dead inside with my baby being handed around... I was happy my parents got to have a hold, but I wanted him first.
My parents realised I would need clothes so they left the three of us to buy me something special, and because my gown was thrown away covered in blood. My partner, I think, was finally having a cuddle and the midwife came in and said the doctor was coming to check on me. she started breaking down the bed and got the stirrups up and put my legs in them. I said how on earth could anyone give birth like this, it was demeaning!! I don't think she liked my comment.....She covered my vagina with a sheet, turning on the spotlight and walked out to get the doctor, not without saying first "you're on display now" I still feel disgusting at this comment.
The doctor came in and they gave me gas and air, I started to panic when he started to touch me because I realised he was going to examine me and then stitch me with no pain relief, gas is in no way adequate for stitching such a sensitive area. He wasn't gentle, and the midwife held me down 'comforting' me, while I was squirming away due to the pain. Her attempt at comforting me was the worst thing she could have done to someone with a history of being held down in hospital.. it triggered my PTSD from when I had a severe bowel obstruction and they were shoving a NG tube down my nose saying I had to let it happen or I'd die leaving my newborn baby girl without a mum.
I begged them to stop, and it took way too long for him to leave me alone. they kept telling me in needed stitched and to stay still, but I was already triggered. I wasn't having any of it and refused treatment. The doctor spoke to me like I was a child, and sais to be don't come in crying with a damaged pelvic floor because I refused to let him stitch me. I thought who cares, you weren't going to numb ne up and I cant even see how bad the tear is to know whether to agree with his opinion that I even needed stitches. I'm of the opinion he would have stitched a graze if it was there, I've heard nasty things about him from other people who have had him at their births.
The midwife had released me, he took a step back, and asked if I was sure I didn't want to be stitched, when I said yes he rudely sighed, turned around and ripped his gloves off, waving his hands in the air as a sign of rude defeat before leaving the room. The midwife may have said something but I didn't care. I was getting some of my confidence back.
I was so angry.
The midwife tried to make excuses but I ignored her. I had enough and wanted to go home.
She left the room to do paperwork.
They hadn't even offered me a drink, yet I was to be there for 7 hours before I was discharged. After the midwife left the room I asked my poor stunned and horrified partner to go get a drink from the vending machine, while I held my baby. We had been separated way too long, I'm not even sure if I tried to breastfeed him again.
While my partner was getting a drink the midwife popped her head in the room and asked about my crohns and medication, I told her I was on Humira as my Crohn's is severe, she snaps back 'you got all your bowels?" I said yes, not bothering to mention I had a resection due to a perforation when I was a child, unrelated to my crohns, she says rudely "you don't have it bad then" and walks out... I started to cry at that point... She in just 2 seconds managed to invalidate the enormous amount of suffering I had gone through prior to and during my pregnancy. I was only on biologics to avoid surgery, she had no idea how close I was to losing a good 15cm of my terminal ilium, had no idea how many times my disease tried to kill me nor the amount of pain I was tortured with for 8 months. I wasn't just angry anymore, I was pissed!!
My partner came back and gave me a drink, he had to search the hospital for a machine and was utterly horrified at the comment the midwife made and how she had left me. We insisted on discharge as soon as she came back, I'm not even sure why she came back. I wish I had a second midwife I could have asked to not allow her back into my room.
My mum and I think my brother came to see us, as she gave me a cute little set of pyjamas to put on after I had a shower, I was uncomfortable having my brother in the room but it was not an issue at all after what I had been through. I took a 5 second shower because the water pressure was awful, a complete waste of time, considering I had the kind nurse from ER wash my legs for me. I got dressed and was anxiously waiting to leave. SEVEN FREAKING HOURS I was locked up in that torture hole.
The midwife helped us get to our car, acting like she had done the best thing in the world for us, and I just wanted to run away from her. I was so relieved to be sitting on my sore and swollen behind, on my way to my safe space...
I was numb for a while, I remembered I should announce my son's birth, not realising my sister had already mentioned it on Facebook, taking away yet one more thing from me that day... something I find unforgiveable. I couldn't go into the birth details, I wanted to forget so I merely said it was a fast birth but we were ok now. When my family got me settled they left, telling me how proud they were of me. Not knowing that inside I was a broken person. I ripped off the armband the hospital put on me as fast as I could, I threw it away even though I have a weird thing with collecting them.
My brother in law was notified and he came for a quick visit, I just wanted to be alone and I could tell he realised that. When I was on my own I started to break down, but I kept a smile on my face when anyone saw me. The kids didn't need to see how broken I was.
I didn't sleep that night, I kept reliving every moment. the pain, the rude comments, being held down... I cried and cried while I held my newborn son skin to skin, I knew I was going to find it difficult getting over that experience. I was grateful I birthed my baby at home on my terms, instead of being induced with a midwife I didn't truly trust, I was grateful he was healthy and was breastfeeding well. I tried to tell myself I should be happy, but I was anything but.
I spent the next few days in a sleepless daze, my only saving grace was my sweet baby boy. I shared a selfie the morning after the birth and mum commented on how exhausted I looked and begged me to get some rest. She didn't know yet, that I spent that night awake and crying.
It was maybe two days before I called the hospital and made a formal complaint and the midwife was incredibly compassionate, I am forever grateful she listened to me and validated my feelings.
A few days later I got a letter from the hospital with the birth details on it to give to my GP when I went in for a check-up (although I never do them) and the details were all wrong. It said it had been 2 hours before the placenta had come, the birth time was wrong and it stated I had a second degree tear... the very thing I had asked about when they insisted I needed stitching, although they refused to give me information. I know exactly what 1st, second, third and fourth degree tears are, I assumed at the time they used a different grading system... they didn't, they just withheld information from me.
I panicked, tried checking my tear and seeing if it really should have been stitched and couldn't tell so I panicked even more and called the hospital, imagining a gaping hole in my vagina where it was now too late to heal properly (as the best time to receive stitches is within 48h).
I requested the head midwife, the one I had spoken to days before when making my complaint and she said to come in and she will see me herself. So I did, I felt safe, I knew she actually cared.
When I arrived I found I was curling myself up, almost shielding myself from the hospital itself. my voice barely worked as I asked to see the midwife and when she came to get me I overheard the other midwife comment very quietly on how upset and scared I had looked, the midwife I was there to see said I'd had a very difficult time and that was why I was there.... validation once again.
She took me to the birth centre, a completely different part of the birth ward, where there was a double bed and a birth pool. We chatted about why I was there and more in depth about the disgraceful treatment I received and she was horrified. She said to me I was absolutely right about cord traction and pulling the placenta could definitely cause the bleeding I was so afraid of. She said I was obviously well informed and know what I was talking about. I was promised the midwife would be reprimanded and she would call a staff meeting to remind them about consent and non-consent. I didn't even have the energy to go into the Doctor's attitude... I got a letter a few weeks later explaining the action that was taken.. she kept her job only because she wasn't a regular member of the staff.
She checked my tear and said she wouldn't have bothered stitching me up and was surprised they wanted to, I was reassured that it was healing and I won't have issues with it at all. Having the opportunity to debrief with someone who had access to my notes took some weight off my shoulders, when I went home, I finally got some sleep.
It was still a looong road of recovery. I had bouts of rage and had nothing but flashbacks on his birthday. Every time I looked at the clock I was remembering what had been happening at that time and I was relieved when his birthday was over. I'm glad it was only his first birthday, he will never remember not having a cake. When he was 18 months old I had enough and started antidepressants, the first lot I was given I had a severe reaction to, I tried to kill myself even though I wasn't suicidal. Then I went on another class of antidepressants and slowly, the pain within was fading and I was able to see things from a different perspective. I was able to celebrate his second birthday with no flashbacks. I started a course in Aged Care, wanting to take a break from birth for a while, and I was in a pretty good place for a while.
I finished my course and did my work placement, which went alright, I was gaining confidence thinking about getting a job there until I was told to feed someone who should never have been fed by a student. She choked, her face went blue and although I was able to resolve the issue and was praised with my professionalism, but with that experience, all my confidence was gone. I knew I would not be able to work in aged care, I struggled enough as it was to go in every day and see people near to death.. birth is where I am meant to be.
I took a couple of weeks to process what happened and with my partner's full support we decided although I spent over a thousand to do the course, I was not going to work in aged care, and I would pursue my certification as a birth doula.
So, as of the end of January, I have been a student of Childbirth International, slowly making my way through the course. Not long after I was getting requests to be their birth doula and I was ecstatic! Throughout the year I went to a few births and some beautiful relationships were formed. I witnessed so much joy and I decided to start weaning myself off of the antidepressants late August. It was hard, oh so hard, whenever I was almost weaned I would get intense itching all over and many times I took another tablet just to stop it. It took a few weeks but I got myself off, and I didn't slip back into depression. In September I had the opportunity to start the Stillbirthday course, to become a bereavement doula, I want to be able to support my future clients if the unfortunate was to happen, I would not want to abandon them in a way and not be able to give the support I know they deserve, I am not certified yet, I've got a little ways to go before that happens.
Fast forward to now, I'm doing really well and eagerly anticipating the 3rd birthday of my littlest, the 5th birthday of my first planned freebirth bub, the 9th birthday of my daughter and the little boy whose birth changed me forever by being impatient and coming after just 90 minutes of labour at home in my bathroom, will be turning 7.... I cannot believe how much my life has changed and how awesome it is right now.
That isn't all though, as of today (Saturday the 3rd of Feb), I am 19 weeks with our fifth child!!!! We are beyond excited, I have been quite sick this time around. I actually got bad enough to need a few admissions into hospital for rehydration, as recently as last week I was given 3 litres of fluids!! I am feeling better though this week, yesterday was the first time I didn't throw up, although today I haven't been as lucky today.
I have delayed seeing a care provider, so at this point in time I am unassisted. I am honestly afraid of having to go back into a hospital for pregnancy, even though this is a different hospital which I know and like.
I am nervous and excited, I am once again hoping for a little girl but right now I only care that the baby is healthy, and developing as they should be. I'm fully intending to have another freebirth, unless something comes up that means it would be unsafe.
I will update occasionally, as currently there has been little change week by week except for my belly getting bigger :)
This ended up far longer than I had planned, if you managed to read all the way through, thank you. I may have to go back and review this, but at this moment I am just clicking publish with my thoughts as they are.
Namaste x
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