I had my gorgeous DTDs a month ago via ELCS at 38 weeks. The whole experience was really very lovely and positive. We were incredibly lucky with the pregnancy and the C-section. The hospital stay was great (we are expats living abroad, and hospitals here only have private rooms, not wards). The babies didn't need any special care and were with us from the moment they came out. DH stayed with us in the hospital for four nights and on the fifth day we came home. All of this is just to underline how fortunate we were and to explain that there weren't any bad experiences. The only difficulty was that we were very sleep deprived because the four of us had all been in one little room in the hospital for 4 nights so neither of us parents got more than 45 minutes sleep at a time.
Day 5 after they were born, the day we came home from hospital, was just AWFUL. I can honestly say I have never felt worse in my life. Waiting to be discharged from hospital DH and I were both so scared, obsessive, paranoid, depressed, exhausted. We were sweating with nerves and hormones (me). DH broke one of the car seats trying to get it out of the car out of sheer stress and frustration. We had a huge argument over this (we really rarely argue at all). On the way out of the hospital we nearly crashed into an ambulance. DH started swearing and gesturing at the driver. We had another argument. We got home and I just walked in the door with the pram and burst into uncontrollable sobs, and didn't stop crying for six hours. I also ranted and raged at DH for a gazillion different things. He took it on the chin but was badly shaken himself. I was totally inconsolable. I felt like death. It was utterly hideous. (Though, looking back, it does have some comedy value!)
In all of this the babies were absolutely fine- they slept through all the drama like two angels! We were very lucky. We had booked a maternity nurse to help out with the babies that night. She arrived that night to find me in shreds, DH on the verge of hysterics, and two sleeping babies. She put me to bed, and from the next morning Things. Got. Better. Now, a month on, life is (very gradually) taking a wonderful new shape.
I was chatting about this to a friend yesterday and she said every single woman she knows with kids has had a similar experience. Which got me thinking that forewarned is forearmed in these situations. I really wish someone had told me beforehand: (a) the day you get home from hospital with your first baby/babies is HORRENDOUS; (b) it starts to get better from that day on!
AIBU to think all first time mums should be told this?
Would really like to hear about other people's experiences, too. (Might reassure us that we're not the only couple to have had a massive row over car seats in the hospital car park!)