C-SECTION – THE TRUTH

I have previously done a vague ‘birth story’ post. This is much different. I am going to be one hundred percent honest. Please keep it in your mind that this is MY experience and other people may have had it differently.

Also prepare yourself for TMI

If you read my blogs regularly or follow me on social media, you will know that the ONLY thing I was hoping for was during the birth of my child was no C-Section, not even a mention of the word.

Well it hit me like a tonne of bricks. When they explained that it really was my only safe option I burst into tears. I wasn’t hours into labour like some. I hadn’t had any pain relief nor was I exhausted from pushing or contractions.

But I was having contractions and I was dilating but it had only been the previous night and they were only just ‘active labour’ stage. Despite this, for me, it had started and I was on the way to delivering my baby.

We were scanned due to previous breech position throughout pregnancy and we found out that baby was indeed, still breech. We were beyond disappointed. After being told she had flipped and was head down. To then hear that they then believed that this never happened and that they were wrong.

The C Section

There and then, we were prepped for theatre.

Like a normal operation I was told ‘nil by mouth’ until afterwards. As soon as I heard those words, my body craved water. I felt as though I had bad stuck in a desert for months searching for it.

It begun, cannular in and bloods taken. As if that wasn’t enough… gown on, stockings on and the midwife ensuring top of my pubic bone shaved.

“Any questions, Anna?” ‘What if I need a poo?’ In my head I don’t know why that came out, because I could of given a shit quite honestly. I just thought it would sound less dramatic than ‘Please don’t let me die’.

There are no luxuries these days. If you are able, then you best walk to theatre. Sarcasm out of the way, I understand this is a nice bit of dignity you get given and you should definitely make the most of it!

Sat on the edge of the table, in a pool of left over waters, hugging a pillow. Tears streaming down my cheeks, terrified of the unknown. They inserted my spinal, which I found surprisingly painless (I am terrible with all thing medical).

As soon as you lay down, they insert a catheter. They then tilt the table like some sort of gaming board to allow the drug to spread evenly across your body, ensuring you are numb.

They begun. Obviously I felt nothing when it came to the incision. But i felt the pulling and stretching. It is unexplainable. As though your body is no longer yours. Someone rummaging around my insides when I haven’t invited them too. I could feel my whole body being pulled down the table and then shoved back up.

Once Immy was born we didn’t see/hear her for five minutes or so. Once she was taken over to have her hat put on and her cord cut. Dan went to be with her. I was laying on the table, so excited to see my baby.

All the while things were being pumped through my cannular, which by the way, SUCKS. I was trying my best to crook my neck just to get a glimpse of our baby.

They begun to ‘sew’ me back up. This took over an hour! I think mainly because I had a surgeon and a student surgeon. So he was taking his time and explaining it to the student as he went along. At time, I just wanted it to be over with. But now, I am thankful as it meant my stitches and scar were as perfect as they could be.

When I got to hold her it was awkward and difficult to keep her on me. I couldn’t manage it for long and poor Dan was trying to lean over the tubes to hold her head for me.

Once they were finally finished I was pulled over onto my hospital bed using a slide sheet. Having been a carer before, I hated the fact it was happening to me. I was being rolled side to side for them to wipe some of the blood and god knows what away. I was then given a sheet and blanket and FINALLY able to have my baby properly.

She was put into the crook of my arm against my skin and we were wheeled into out room.

Recovery

For the first 15 minutes there has to be a midwife with you constantly. I think this was in case of a bleed. She took my observations every minute.

After that they were every half an hour and then hourly.

I was given a bed bath later that evening. Like i said earlier, for someone that used to be a carer, it was so awful. “Use your feet to push up”. ‘Yes love, I would love to be able to use my feet but I’m currently unsure if they’re even attached to me!’

That night the midwife came and removed my catheter. That was horrific. I was told to relax so naturally my body clenched and tried to cling onto the very thing she was pulling out of me.

I had six hours to wee or it would go back in. Well bugger me, I forced a wee out. No way that was going back in.

That first wee was pure hell. She explained that it would be due to my bladder being moved and re-positioned during the operation. I was trying to hover so Dan could attempt to catch it in a sick bowl so it could later be examined. Well I failed because I was in pain and my stomach muscles had been torn in two a few hours earlier. In short, I can safely say it was THE worst toilet break I have ever had.

The feeling was sore, uncomfortable but with paracetomal, ibuprofen and oramporh, it was bareable. Getting in and out of bed took me around 5 minutes and support from Dan.

Showering was interesting. I needed help from Dan, so it was like a family trip. We had to walk from our room to a seperate shower area as we didn’t have one in our room. The baby asleep in the crib over one side of the room and me in the shower and Dan washing the lower half for me. It really is hard to feel clean when you struggle to reach places.

I was in hospital for around 5 days. We had the smallest room, not your average maternity ward suite. I couldn’t even walk between my bed and and Immy’s crib without knocking my wound. OUCH.

I was finding my hospital bed so uncomfortable. The only way I could really lay was on my back. I had a sore on my coccyx and it hurt more than my wound. I was on a maternity sheets due to bleeding and every time it wrinkled beneath me it felt like I was laying on a pile of sharp rocks.

This improved when I was up and about more as I would try and sit in the chair for short periods and go to the day room just for a different position.

The fourth day in I was able to remove my bandage. I did this in the shower. Practically bent over in half because I felt unable to stand straight. I reckon I was in there for 20 minutes peeling it off in stages. Taking a minute and carrying on. Improvement though, as i was now showering by myself!

When I got home, I found it harder to remember I had just had major surgery. I got into bed and was stuck! Our bed at home was so much softer than hospital and I had no muscles to get myself back up! I cried for about half an hour and told Dan to ring an ambulance because I would be there forever if not!

After a bit of drama and having ‘a word’ with myself. I did it. I remembered from then on…not to lay flat. Things like that and getting in and out bed to tend with Immy was tough. I was also super gutted that I couldn’t bathe with Immy because I knew I wouldn’t be able to get out of the bath.

Through the weeks I got less sore and day to day chores were easier. As soon as I was home I was up and about doing things myself but I was getting twinges and I knew when I had done too much.

I felt so stuck once Dan had gone back to work. I had to wait for my mum to come over to leave the house as we have steps either way and I couldn’t get the pushchair up or down. We went for gentle walks together, mum pushing and me walking beside her.

By four weeks I was walking on my own and pretty much able to do everything. I felt amazing considering!

I waited until five to drive, but I am telling you now. I felt like a new woman once I got back in that car. I could go shopping. Nip to see friends. Get back into the world and show off my new little bundle of love.

Luckily for me, within the six weeks I felt absolutely normal again. In fact all of my family, including myself, were forgetting I had major surgery just weeks ago.

Mentally, I had come to terms with the fact that I birthed that way and not the way I had hoped. I had come to terms with that fact that I wasn’t breastfeeding and my daily injections were done with. I was as woman as I had ever felt and I had a family all to myself.

This is my C-Section story. Not the ‘easy‘ option. And most definitely not ‘too posh to push‘ because trust me I would of given that my all too!

Thanks for reading..Anna xx

1 Comment

  1. With Love From P

    July 28, 2018 at 10:57 am

    Oh man. Being a c-section mummy I can totally relate. Loved this post.

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