My daughter is 11 and motherhood has been an amazing learning curve with many highs and many lows. I wouldn’t change that for a thing. I would change how she was born though, because even this many years later, I am left with mental and physical scars.
When my waters broke at 38 weeks I was being monitored for pre-eclampsia due to high blood pressure. I was admitted to a ward and told “it will be a while before you deliver this baby, we will keep an eye on you” and my husband was sent home.
In fact, it wasn’t long before I was having painful contractions every ten minutes or so. I called my husband to come back, despite the midwives insisting that I wasn’t really in labour. I was eventually moved into a labour room and examined - and yes, I was in labour and my blood pressure was rising.
I had an epidural and this, combined with medication for my blood pressure and to keep me hydrated, helped to calm things down. I could see I was having contractions on the monitor, but I could feel nothing. I slept and dozed for about seven hours.
When the contractions on the monitor became much more frequent, the doctor decided that it may be time for me to start pushing. I couldn’t feel to push, so the midwife would watch the machine, and then tell me what to do when a contraction came. I had no pain, but I also had no control.
An hour or so later, I started to make a huge effort to push, but something didn’t feel right. They told me to keep pushing so I did. Then I was told to stop. I tried, but at this point, all I felt was this massive desire to push and with what felt like a wave, the baby started to come out. She was face up and her arm was up by her face. As she came out, she basically ripped me open because of her arm position and the speed at which she came out.
She was fine.
However, a blood vessel inside my vagina had been lacerated as she was delivered and I had what was an almost 4th degree tear from front to back. There was a lot of blood and the placenta was not delivered. The epidural seemed to have stopped working.
My baby was taken from me and handed to my husband as I was whisked down the corridor and into theatre. One of the doctors explained that I was losing a lot of blood from the damaged blood vessel and despite medication, my placenta wasn’t coming out. I was given a full nerve block, so I was numb to the neck, and a very kind surgeon appeared and started to work on my ravaged nether regions and stubborn placenta. They extracted that manually. I could feel someone rummaging around, and it was unpleasant and horribly intrusive. They finally dealt with the placenta and then the bleeding vessel, then they repaired my perineal tear. I had 45 stitches inside and 35 outside by the time they were finished. It took three hours.
I was wheeled into recovery to an ashen faced husband, who had literally been left holding the baby.
I spent two days and nights heavily medicated, on morphine, unable to walk, a catheter placed because I couldn’t go to the toilet, and had a blood transfusion to replace the blood I had lost. I struggled to feed the baby, and had to call for help a lot, to feed and change and hold her.
I was sent home three days later, virtually unable to walk with pain, and unable to sit or lie comfortably. I was also utterly traumatised, emotionally, and the beginnings of the anxiety and post partum depression with which I would later be diagnosed were starting to surface.
It took 18 months for my physical wounds to heal. My mental health was in pieces. It hurt to sit, it hurt to pee, it hurt to try and poo. I spent six months taking laxatives so that I could at least go to the toilet without agony. I struggled with urinary continence and my self confidence was shattered. I had to see a specialist gynaecological physiotherapist to help to heal and retrain my body after the damage.
In all of this, not one person asked me how I felt emotionally.
What I went through tore me apart, physically and emotionally, and I don’t feel that anyone acknowledged that what happened had damaged me mentally.
Eleven years on, I still have physical scars and some lingering issues. I also have flashbacks and I remember the pain, still. What should be filled with happy memories and moments of joy, is instead a space filled with pain, and lingering fear and memories of people digging inside me and being sewn up whilst music from a Queen album played in the background.
I can’t change what happened, but I would change the way a traumatic birth is handled afterwards and I don’t think anyone should be allowed to tell a women that she “has a healthy baby and didn’t die” and expect them to just soldier on. There is an attitude that women should just put up with the damage and trauma that happens to them during birth, and to me that’s wrong. Yes, I am grateful I am alive, yes I am grateful I have my beautiful daughter, but birth trauma is real, and it happens and it’s not just about a few stitches and some pain relief and then getting on with life. It’s more than that. It damages women and I am convinced it contributes to why many of us struggle with our mental health and relationships after the physical wounds have healed. I was offered no support, no counselling, no comfort, and no recognition that giving birth almost broke me. No woman should have to deal with that.
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Guest post: “I had 45 stitches inside and 35 outside by the time they were finished.”
MumsnetGuestPosts · 10/04/2018 10:40
Reading your stories makes me realise how not ok I am after the birth of my daughter 3 years ago. I've had another baby since and had a much better experience (at home) but I can't bear to think about that first delivery and subsequent after care. 
for you all
I was in the hospital over night in labour but was only a few cm dilated. I was left all alone and when I asked for pain relief the midwives kept telling me it was too early. I then had a seizure and came round to a male doctor giving me an internal and totally freaked out as I have epilepsy and after a seizure I do have a memory lapse for a few minutes. I had repeatedly told the midwives and doctors this before as I was terrified of this happening. It was in my notes and birth plan to wait till I had come round unless it’s an emergency which it was not as all my vital signs and the babies heartbeat were fine
I had a failed epidural, pushed for three hours and finally ended up with forceps and I felt everything. The midwife was horrible kept telling me to shut up as I was just imagining the pain and she even turned to my husband at one point and said he should be bullying me into pushing the baby out. I lost over two litres of blood and the doctor put his hand up inside me, I was still feeling everything but by this time my husband said I wasn’t screaming just wimpering as if all my energy had gone.
After it had all ended the cow of a midwife looked at my back and said the epidural had in fact fallen out so I was feeling pain 
I was dignosed with PTSD and a felt I didn’t bond with my son until he was 18 months. I even looked a adoption sites and dreamed of him being taken away.
He is four now and gradually my love had grown and I now adore him. I still have nightmares and flashbacks.
I didn’t go for a debrief as I lost all trust in the midwives and I knew I would never have another one after what happened. I still feel robbed, violated, butchered and abused
I dont have DC but just wanted to say how shocked and disgusted i am to hear of what you have all been through 
I'm so sad and angry reading these posts about what you OP, and others have gone through. Thegreatestshowwomen - your experience sounds appalling - so awful you were made to feel scared about speaking about your mental health as well 
I agree this thread must be passed on to medical schools, the Royal Colleges (midwifery, obstetrics, anaesthesia, GPs) etc.
The policy of prioritising vaginal delivery apparently over almost every other consideration is barbaric in my opinion. Yes in ideal circumstances vaginal is best, but there are many reasons why it isn't necessarily the right choice. I am in hospital recovering from my second c section. 1st was emergency, this one was supposed to be a planned section (as agreed and in my notes from early on with consultant). I went into premature labour at 33 weeks and the consultant on duty tried to persuade me to have a natural delivery. For many reasons this was not the right choice for me and I was glad I was able to stick up for myself under considerable pressure, and I feel sad to think that other women may not be able to do so due to feeling intimidated or maybe due to language barrier.
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Thank you for sharing Karen
I had similar experiences too. Midwife didn't believe I was going into labour, very condescending. Fast labour resulting in 3rd degree tear, hemorrhage, surgery, DP left holding the baby. I was actually glad to get to a proper surgery room as the midwife almost tried to stitch me up herself by lamp light!
Whenever I reached out for help and told my story to professionals after all they kept saying was that I'd had a really great birth and wasn't I happy that it'd gone so well? It took a long time to find a doctor that took me seriously and I was diagnosed with PTSD.
It's not the birth that traumatised me either, it was the lack of care. It was being patronised. It was being laughed at and jollied along when I was sitting in a pool of blood and had just felt my body being ripped open. It was being looked at like a time waster when I asked them to pass me the baby or change a nappy when I was still paralysed from the waist down. It was having to beg a midwife to stay with me and guide me through only to have her roll her eyes and walk out on me over and over again. It was being anaemic, refused a blood transfusion and no one explaining why. So many nurses came and told me I needed a transfusion and my bloods were getting worse but they weren't going to give me one. I had this same conversation for 5 days but no fecker thought to explain why or tell me I would be ok. Had complete strangers popping to tell me a was severely I'll and some body should do something about it and I was thinking, 'yes somebody should do something and that somebody is you!'
Honestly, after every thing I've been through I think NHS staff look in horror at women like us as one big expense of time and money.
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