The 4th of September was just supposed to be another regular day. I woke up, got ready for the day and sat down at my desk to get some work done. At about 2pm, something felt distinctly weird about my tummy. I brushed it off, my baby wasn’t due for another two weeks. I certainly wasn’t prepared for his birth TODAY!
A little while longer and I could no longer ignore the pain but this wasn’t what it was supposed to feel like was it? I had been to all the seminars and classes and read all the books. Labour did not feel like one solid pain in your tummy. Where were the rise and falls they had talked about. What was I supposed to be counting here?
Instead I decided to run a bath. A nice warm bath should sort this problem out surely?
20 minutes later and my husband arrived home. Well he wasn’t keen on taking any chances so he loaded me straight into the car.
The longest journey ever
The car ride was excruciating. I held myself off the seat the entire way. I could feel every bump. Every tiny rock in the road. I didn’t realise how far the hospital could seem from my house.
Eventually, we arrived at the hospital and we were shown to the labour ward. My belly was strapped with contraptions to hear the baby’s heartbeat. The constant thump reassuring me.
But the pain. Oh my fuck the pain. This was it.
At this point, it becomes too much to handle. I send my husband to find the nurse. At that moment we realise that we’ve forgotten the birthing music in the car so off he goes to get that.
Of course everything happens when you’re not expecting it to. While he’s gone the nurses start to panic. They panic in hushed tones but I can see something is going on. This isn’t normal.
Eventually I shout out…. can someone please tell me why everyone is panicking? The response…. sweetheart if we don’t get you into theatre right away your baby will die.
My world is crushed.
Where is my husband?????
I’m wheeled off into a bright and stark surgery. Where the hell is my husband?
Later I discovered he had been left to scrub up but no one explained anything to him. He gets there just in time. My heart is racing and I don’t know what’s going on.
Immediately I sit for the spinal but the pain just sitting is too much to handle. They tell me then, it’s spinal or they put me under and that option is risky for the baby.
What the hell is going on?
Finally I find out… this is suspected to be a placental abrupture. The placenta may have partially or completely separated from my uterus. This is dangerous for both of us and a C-Section delivery must happen immediately.
With my husband holding my hand, she starts to make the cut. A hole in my body that will save my sons life. All I care about is him. I hated being pregnant but this little miracle of mine is all I ever wanted and I just want him to be fine. I don’t care about the consequences.
Now they’re tugging. They’re pushing and pulling. From both sides. He’s struggling to come out… but they’re fighting to get my little man out. Suddenly… the is a release of pressure and the roof is sprayed with blood. “Is that normal?” I ask knowing full well that my face too was now covered in a fine mist of blood. Every one laughs but I know the answer already. It’s no secret that this was a serious situation. Everyone is trying to feign a sense of calm but my baby could have died. Instead, he is handed to me. Wrapped up as a tiny bundle. My little monkey who I’ve waited for 9 months to meet.
A second later I notice that his hands are staying blue. The Dr takes him away from me. He’s not breathing properly. He needs to go straight to ICU. I’m lying here helplessly while my son gets rushed to NICU.
A love like no other
Turns out the oxygen gave him a pneumothorax. That’s when air leaks between the lung and the chest. My tiny little human had to spend 3 days in NICU. There was no chest to chest, no snuggling, no breast feeding no nothing. Just my little boy lying in a box with drips in his arms. As soon as I could walk, I spent every minute I could muster the strength for standing at his side. Love overflowing for this perfect child of mine who arrived into an already imperfect world. My perfect little boy who has only just arrived in this world.
The next chapter
I lay in my ward bed. Pain. Severe pain. I pressed the painkillers pump. I pressed it again. Pump Pump Pump. Luckily it was locked for every 7 minutes. I complained to the nurses. I complained a lot. I have a high pain threshold but this is insane. I feel like my tummy is going to explode. Every time I lie down I hear a whooshing sound.
Eventually, my little boy is released out of NICU. I try to breast feed but my body hurts so badly. Nothing comes out my breasts. I lie down. Even that is painful. The lactation nurse tells me “her other C-Section mothers have no problem turning onto their sides ” I feel useless. I feel the guilt and emotion wash over me. I’m already a useless mother.
The following day we are checked out. Ready to go home and start this journey on our own.
BUT WHAT ABOUT MY FUCKING PAIN?
Eventually the pain is just unbearable, I demand a Dr. I’m wheeled off into all kinds of things. X-Rays and CTs… It’s time to get to the bottom of this.
Swish Swish Swish goes the liquid inside of me. Tests confirm. There is too much liquid in my abdomen.
Three hours later – I’m rushed off to surgery. A burst appendix it seems. All this time. Four days and one childbirth later I’ve been lying around with a burst appendix. Three hours later and I’m headed into surgery.
but that is a story for another day…