I had a 3a tear with DD1 who, it turned out was a compound presentation. She was delivered (despite my requests to the contrary) by a very nice first year student who did nothing to prevent it happening. The roar out of me as I tore must have been heard by half of London.
I delivered her on gas and air, ended up in theatre on a spinal. I delivered at 1am and made it to the ward at 4.30. The one good thing that happened was that the qualified midwife who was present did not leave my side until she was latching well - a factor that I'm convinced set us up successfully for EBF.
But...I was left on the ward with her naked other than a blanket on me. I was still in the gown I'd been to theatre in with a pad wedged between my legs and I was there until 9 in the morning when an HCA helped me. The ward failed to make the requisite physio or consultant follow up appts and I had to chase them myself when a friend who had the same injury a week earlier told me she'd had hers.
Also, DD1 was the result of a fourth cycle of IVF. She was much wanted and I was a wreck for the three weeks after she was born. I told my mother on day three that if someone came and took her I wouldn't mind and God forgive me, I meant it. I think the only thing that got me through those days was the fact that mother had always been very honest about the fact that she hadn't instantly loved us - so I put it all down to just being a new mum at the time. Dd2 (natural conception) was born 16 months later and I had a small tear that was barely 2nd degree. She didn't sleep for the first six months, and clearly I had two tinies, so didn't think about much else.
She's now 15 months and DD1 is 2.5 and it's only in the last few weeks that I've started to think about it and man, am I angry. I'm fucking furious. Dd1 and I bonded beautifully but I'll never get those three weeks back. I'll never forget the look on DH's face as I sobbed that I would try to learn to love her. I'll never forget the pain of having to crawl up the stairs at the end of day 10 and not being able to stand for long enough to change her nappy because I'd been for a stroll in the park.
No-one, not a midwife, a GP, or a consultant ever talked to me about it. They all hid from it and minimised it.
I'm incredibly lucky - I have a bit of faecal urgency but no other problems and my pelvic floor is good other than that (and if I'm honest, I've never been great in the number two area!).
But yes, I'm angry.