My labor started at 2:00am on my exact due date, October 10, 2010. The pains were every 20 minutes and not really a big deal. I was the only one awake so I took a bath, painted my nails. I was very calm. At 9:00am I called my doctor’s office and told them I was having contractions so I was going to cancel my appointment and just go to the hospital whenever the pains got 3 minutes apart like he told me. I then laid down to take a nap. The doctor’s office called back around noon and said go ahead to hospital so doc can check you. We lived in a very small town and we only had one doctor that delivered babies so he just wanted a time frame.
I went in, doc checked me, I was only at a 2. I thought for sure I was farther – lol! He broke my water and he left. The contractions started in hard core at that time. I was having back labor. Serious pain. Back labor is no joke! Since it’s a small hospital, they do not do epidurals. They only meds they give you is Staydol and it wasn’t putting a dent in the pain. I thought my back was breaking.
Finally at about 6pm doc came back because I was at an 8. My family was there and I was still in excruciating pain. Finally about 6:30pm or so I was at a 9 and doc said the reason I was in so much pain was because baby was facing the wrong way, so he turned him. Immediate relief! At that time, I remember my LD nurse saying that the anesthesiologist told her that if they needed him, give him plenty of notice because he was 25 minutes away at a birthday party.
Everything was fine; I said I needed to start pushing. I noticed they brought in the baby isolette and started setting it up. Family members were leaving the room. Doc was checking my pushing and then all of a sudden I noticed that doc and nurse were very quiet. No more talking or joking around. I saw the nurse shake her head at the doc and I said immediately- what is wrong? Doc said “Cord is out and I can’t push it back in. How far away is anesthesia?” Nurse said, “25 minutes.” Nurse ran out of the room and came back with a blue bundle. I was in shock and in excruciating pain while doc was trying to push cord back up into my uterus. As that time, I noticed him poke me with this little thing 4 or five times and then the next thing I know I am looking down and I see him slice me with a scalpel. He says, “Can you feel that?” I scream “F*ck yes, I can feel that!” I immediately try to cover up my wound to keep him from doing it again. He looks at me and says, “If I don’t do this, your baby is going to die.” I looked at my hands covered in blood, heard my mom and doc say, “No don’t touch it.” I felt myself slip out of my body, and say, “Ok do it.” Doc then told my husband to hold me down with my arms over my head. He completed the c-section right there. No sterile environment. No anesthesia.
I remember hearing myself scream, feeling his hands inside my body like he was ripping me apart. I remember looking into my husband’s eyes trying to stay calm; my mind was begging itself to just pass out. I remember the doc telling a nurse to get my mom out of there. I remember telling my husband that I was going to die. I remember the doc saying, “Hit the code button and bring me something for mom.” I remember feeling my eyes roll back in my head. I vaguely remember coming to and hearing the doctor yelling at my baby and then my husband-“What is his name. What is the baby’s name?” My husband told him, “Shane”. I hear the doc yell, “Come on Shane BREATHE. BREATHE DAMN IT BREATHE.” I can still remember hearing that first cry and telling myself I can go back to sleep now. I remember being happy it was a boy. We purposely didn’t find out but that’s what I wanted. I woke up again a few minutes later to a man rubbing my forehead. I remember hearing the doc tell my husband that he was going to take care of me. I remember trying to sit up because I really had to pee and trying to tell someone. Come to find out, the doc had cut through my bladder and that’s what I was feeling. I remember them wheeling me into the ER, kind of passing my family in the hall way. I guess I told my daughter that I was dying.
I know that after the surgery I woke up and doc told me what happened and that I was at extreme risk for infection because nothing was sterile. My bladder was cut and opened up inside me. He said he did his best to get my insides all cleaned up. He double stitched my uterus incase I wanted to have another baby. Then they told me that my son was life flighted an hour and half away to another hospital with a level 4 NICU. He had been without oxygen for a total of 6 minutes and had actually been ‘dead’. It took 2 epi shots and lots of CPR to make him come to. The last thing they heard he was breathing on his own but had a stage one brain bleed.
I was in ICU for a week. I had 24/7 antibiotics- 4 different kinds, I believe. Had to have 2 blood transfusions and a permanent catheter for 6 weeks. My son was in NICU for 2 weeks. I finally got to see him after 7 days. They had done extensive testing on him, and several ultrasounds on his organs. His brain bleed healed itself and he was perfect. No lasting effects. Seeing him lying that little crib was the most amazing sight. I will never forget the surrealty of that moment. My son was fine and all mine.
I was actually brave enough to have another baby. I have been blessed with another son. He is 5 months old. I had a planned c-section with a wonderful new doctor in a big city hospital. We prepared mentally for the surgery for the whole pregnancy. My new OB had meetings with the anesthesiologist and nurses who would be in the OR with me during my surgery. No one had dealt with anything like this and no one knew how I would react. It was so peaceful. No one spoke unless I did first. I didn’t even know that surgery started until they said, “Here is your son.” I lived through it. Every doctor, every nurse who hears my story or has read my medical records is in shock and awe of what I went through. They equate me to a soldier on the battle field. My therapist said, “I’ve heard a lot of stories in my years but that is the bravest f*cking thing I have ever heard.” She treats soldiers coming back from war so I find it ironic that she thinks I am a hero. As much as anyone thinks I am brave, I can only say that if it was your baby you would have made the same decision that I did.
I didn’t get any infections. My son had no lasting effects. So why am I suffering so badly? I can’t sleep and have a hard time leaving my sons to do anything but go to work. I don’t let them sleep alone. I am always scared they are going to die if I am not there to protect them. I’ve finally come to terms with the fact that I have PTSD and am seeing a therapist. It’s hard to admit to it, since everything turned out so well. I need help so I can have healthy relationships with my children and I can stop being angry all the time. I treat my husband badly and I have to be in control all of the time. It’s not fair to any of us.
For anyone that read all of this thank you. I know its long but writing it was part of my therapy. Wish me luck – I know I’ll need it!