The following blog post is the story of a guest blogger. It is a heart-wrenching story of birth trauma and taking it one moment at a time.
Thank you Megan for your strength and willingness to open up about your experiences.
Holding the Umbrella,
Expectations...it's hard to get around expectations. We all have them and boy did I have them about my pregnancy. I was going to eat all the right things, do all the right things, and give birth the way I wanted. I knew I wanted an epidural, wanted to deliver vaginally if possible, wanted to do kangaroo care (skin to skin contact right after birth), and I'd start breastfeeding immediately!
Well...I got the epidural! Other than that, nothing went as I expected. I ended up being induced due to complications during the pregnancy and I tried to deliver vaginally but my daughter got stuck in the birth canal. We tried everything, the vacuum 3 times but nothing helped and she wasn't budging. So we went into a c-section and I thought ok this will be ok and EXPECTED it to go as planned.
I was wrong again! For some reason the medication did not work and I felt the c-section, every bit of it. I was in so much pain that I wasn't fully aware of what was going on but I knew something had happened and the doctors and my husband were nervous. It turns out my uterus had ruptured and they were trying desperately to control the bleeding and save my life. I remember seeing my daughter for a second after they delivered her and thinking ok she's here, she's breathing I can see her, but that's it. Right after they delivered her I started screaming for them to sedate me because I couldn't handle the pain and being conscious any longer.
Nothing about her birth went as planned or as I expected.
That magical moment everyone tells you about when you deliver your baby, hold her on your chest and all the pain of labor magically melts away...it wasn't like that for me. When I think back to Ella's delivery I remember mostly pain, fear, and uncertainty. I didn't get to hold my baby after she was born or do the kangaroo care but I made sure my husband did and my mom was able to capture it on video. It's a video I cherish watching.
My C-section didn't go as planned but I thought I had made it through the worst of it.
Nothing went as expected! I couldn't breastfeed, I couldn't get up and care for my baby; I couldn't even care for myself! I expected to fall instantly in love with this little human I helped create and be in this perfect bubble of joy and bliss and smiles. Well someone burst my bubble! Instead I was filled with pain, sadness, and guilt. I had a friend that delivered about a month after me and when I asked how her delivery went she said it was splendid and she loved it.
What?? What was wrong with me then? I never expected to feel this way but I did. I had to leave the hospital with an external drain coming out of my kidney because they could not operate to repair the ureter until I had healed from the c-section. I had what is called a nephrostomy tube and I had it for 8 long weeks. One of the hardest parts for me was the constant physical reminder of what I was going through. It was bad enough that I was in pain from the C-section and also from trying to delivery vaginally but the tube coming out of my kidney was a whole new pain.
I couldn't get up without help, I could barely walk. When Ella cried, I couldn't get up and take care of her. It was always kind of an unspoken rule between my husband and I that I would be the primary caregiver for the baby.
Well those roles were reversed! Not only was my husband on full time daddy duty, he was also on full time nurse duty for me. I remember one night that at the time was probably one of the worst nights but now I look back on and laugh. It was after my 4th surgery to repair the ureter into my bladder. It was very extensive and I went home from the hospital with a drain coming out of my abdomen, urinary catheter, and a whole new scar intersecting my C-section scar.
I wasn't allowed to lift Ella and again, could not get up without assistance. It was late at night and Ella was having one of those nights where nothing would console her, she was hungry, tired, cranky, bored all at the same time and would not stop crying. My husband was walking with her trying to calm her down and my dog started jumping on him to go outside. At the same time I needed him to come empty my drain and catheter because they were getting too full.
This was a real low point for us at the time but we got through it and can laugh about it now. I was so unbelievably sad. I kept thinking, "This is it? This is what I waited so long for? This is how I'm supposed to feel?" I felt completely helpless and worthless. I felt guilty because I couldn't get up and help Ella when she cried but also felt so horrible that I didn't want to get up.
There were days that I was so sick or in so much pain that getting to the couch to sit was all I could manage and couldn't do anything for Ella.I was afraid Ella was bonding with everyone else instead of me because I wasn't able to care for her like I wanted.
I felt guilty for not being happier that my baby was finally here..
For the first few weeks I think I was in literal survival mode, just trying to stay alive and when I was finally able to stop and think about all I went through I started to really process it.
Well meaning family and friends would say things like "Well she's here and healthy, that's all that matters. Now you can move on."
That made me furious!
Not only did it completely negate everything I was going through but then it made me feel selfish for focusing on myself. I was SO thankfull that my baby was healthy but at the same time I had no idea when I was going to feel better or if I'd have any long term complications.
I had almost died twice. I went through 6 surgeries, 3 week long hospital stays, and countless other tests and procedures. I would have flashbacks or wake up and not know where I was...was I in the hospital? Am I ok? Am I having another surgery? I was hurt and needed healing. I kept my feelings to myself for a long time and that was a mistake. It just kept boiling up until I finally broke down one day and told my husband how I was feeling.I just started crying and I don't think I stopped for 2 days. But once I acknowledged my feelings, I felt like a little weight was lifted off my shoulders.
The next person I talked to was my mom and she helped me to understand how different a traumatic birth is compared to a normal delivery and that the feelings I was having were completely normal. I remember telling her that I felt guilty because everyone always says that they would walk through fire for their child and at that point I wasn't sure if I felt that way and my mom explained to me, "Megan, you already have walked through fire for her! No one will every know everything you have gone through and are still going through for your child!"
That helped me put it into perspective. Once I started talking about my feelings it got better and I started to have more good days than bad. When I did have a bad day all I had to say to my husband was "It's a bad day today" and he understood that I might be crying when he came home and that it was nothing he did, just something I had to work through.
I didn't have an immediate, blissful bond with my baby, but now I feel it. Of course I loved her but I went through an incredible trauma getting her here and I needed to acknowledge and own that. Talking about it helped me so much. Now, I can think about everything I went through and know that Ella has one tough Momma and one that would (and has ) go through anything for her.
Each walk is different, but we walk together, and that makes all the