I see we've discussed consent. Consent? What the fuck is that?!
I was unlucky with DD1 to go into labour over a bank holiday, and to go into labour coming up to a shift change. Denied pain relief and shouted at by staff constantly I was becoming more and more terrified, and then my MIL rocked up and not one person asked if I wanted her in the room - just invited her in. I was terrified of being left in the pain I'd been in from SPD all pregnancy (virtually housebound from 20 weeks, unable to walk properly and in absolute bloody agony) and I'd heard the stuff about being careful with epidurals etc that you noted your pain free gap you could open your legs to make sure that you didn't end up with long term damage.
So they needed/wanted to use forceps (I still remain convinced if they hadn't of been bodily forcing me down onto the bed DD1 would have come out of her own accord as she definitely started to move when they got me vertical to put a spinal block in) and all I wanted was for them to make a note of how far I could move my legs apart... and they wouldn't do it - shouted and screamed at me right in my face until I had no answer but to agree... took me down into surgery and DD1 basically started crowning the second they moved me vertically - assured me that they were not allowed legally to cut me without my consent and they would ask me before doing so as well. I started reacting to the spinal, couldn't stop shaking, something was beeping like mad - no one would explain why I couldn't stop shaking or what the fuck was beeping (I think if you're attached to a machine and it starts beeping the fuckery that you're bloody well entitled to know if it's a good beep or a bad beep). DD1 was born and they took her away, didn't even do me the courtesy of saying if it was a boy or a girl - stitched me up and dumped me literally in the corridor outside and I could hear them muttering how they'd let me calm down and leave me there a few minutes.
Then someone had to sheepishly admit they'd cut me quite massively, and they chucked me on a postnatal ward where I had a breastfeeding leaflet literally thrown at me - and I had to listen to the nurses slagging me off as a "troublemaker" and "need to keep an eye on that one" all night. In the morning they hauled me in for an interview and said they'd referred me to social services as a "resistant patient" and did a full on interview of everything that had happened... getting more and more sheepish as the interview progressed and they realised just how fucking disgracefully I'd been treated - and then went white when I very politely told them that I wasn't the complaining type and I didn't want to get anyone into trouble but that the perspex panelling between the desk and the patients really wasn't very soundproof and I'd heard every word so they might want to keep the voices a bit lower in future just so they knew. Still had to go through the full social services looking into it process - even though it was thrown out as quickly as it could be. Wasn't until my community midwife heard what had happened and then the midwives at DD2's birth heard the abridged version as an explanation and advance apology for me being a very very terrified patient - and their reactions of total horror - that I realised just how badly I'd been treated and I was being urged to consider really pushing the breech of consent thing... but who was I to challenge things - we had the social services referral in our past and that always scared the shit out of me.
My relationship with DD1 has never been the greatest - there's a massive clash of two similar personalities there - but there's also an element of me struggling to bond with a baby I got fucking terrified I was going to lose. Every bump, scrape, bruise I was terrified would need a trip to A+E and the social services referral would be there - even now it's still always there in my mind that we are a family known to them.
Oh yeah and the second they got that spinal block in they had my legs in positions they've never gone into before or again - and that's what completely fucked over my SPD - I struggle to walk any distance, constant kicked in the crotch type pain, struggle to sleep at night, my pelvis makes some impressive cracking and creaking noises and it's a fucking miracle DD2 was conceived as my sex life is pretty much nil. Mentally though was a bigger birth injury than anything at all - still makes my eyes feel slightly like the tears will come typing it up now and DD1's 6 for fuck's sake.