I want to start out by saying there is no question attached to this post, this is just the rambling vent of a traumatised mum needing support 🙏
My DD (3mo) was born via an emergency caesarean at 35+5 weeks, after my waters broke at 35+1 weeks. It was a whole ordeal. I have Type 1 Diabetes, and DD is an IVF baby due to a genetic condition her father has, so we did pre-implantation genetic diagnosis to ensure the embryo that was transferred did not have the condition. The whole process to even reach implantation took about two years. Basically, the pregnancy was very high risk, and towards the end was just hell trying to keep my blood sugars managed. I was having weekly appointments and fortnightly scans at the hospital, my insulin doses adjusted sometimes up to three times a week, and was told DD was measuring at the 99th centile. During one appointment the consultant told me that uncontrolled blood sugars can lead to stillbirth, which I knew prior to conception, but when I was already feeling guilty about struggling with my blood sugars, it put me in a full on terrified, depressive spiral. Because of the diabetes and DD's measurements, it was decided that I would deliver at 37 weeks (a common thing), and I wanted an elective c-section. We put a lot of thought into it, and were happy and confident with our decision.
Note: Due to a previous Pulmonary Embolism, I was on a high dose of blood thinning injections throughout the pregnancy. This is important.
My waters broke at 6am on a Monday, at 35 weeks and a day. We get to hospital and I'm kept overnight for monitoring. A consultant suggests DD will be delivered via an elective c-section either that day, or the next. A different consultant disagrees, and as I wasn't having any contractions, they wanted to get me to 37 weeks, so sent me home. I had hourly contractions throughout the rest of Tuesday, that lasted about ten minutes each time. Hospital said I didn't need to come in until they were closer together.
On Wednesday I had my usual weekly clinic appointment, and what would be my last scan before delivery at 37 weeks. The scan showed there was a tiny amount of amniotic fluid left, but that DD was fine. I went back to the waiting room to wait for my appointment, when the contractions started again and I was in absolute agony. I didn't fully understand what was going on, and was in so much pain I couldn't talk. My consultant decided to admit me for monitoring, but the contractions were still far apart, so after an overnight stay, I was sent home again on Thursday.
I woke up on Saturday in severe, continuous pain, and we went into hospital again. I vomited throughout the journey, and arrived at hospital needing assistance from paramedics to exit the car and reach triage. It was determined I had an infection and DD was struggling, so I was had a category 2 emergency c-section under general anaesthetic. I learned several weeks later that during the section, an instrument went missing and so I was kept under for a further 20 minutes while they located it. I lost 1.3L of blood. We both developed infections.
DD was blue, floppy and not breathing, her heartrate <60, and she was taken to the neonatal unit. Neither my husband nor I were informed of her true medical state - they told my husband she had a "good cry", which was not accurate at all. When she did start breathing, she had "a weak little cry".
Not long after waking and returning to my room, I felt very ill and hemorrhaged. Remember those blood thinners I was on? Yeah, I'd been on them all week. The doctors palpated my abdomen and physically pulled blood clots from inside me. This was the most intense agony I had ever experienced, and was triggered into severe flashbacks to a trauma from my adolescence.
I was returned to theatre and had a balloon inserted into my womb to stem the bleeding. I had a total of 4 blood transfusions and lost, in total, 2.8L of blood.
My husband got to see our DD after nearly 2 hours, but I ultimately did not get to meet DD until she was 34 hours old. I was only allowed to see her if I could get out of bed and into a wheelchair because they couldn't take my bed to her, nor bring her incubator to me. I could only spend 30 minutes with her, because I couldn't be off my insulin pump for too long. I then didn't see her again for a further 12 hours or so.
When she was finally returned to me, only one student midwife encouraged breast feeding, which was an abysmal failure. We stayed in hospital for a total of six days, and I was told there would be an investigation into the birth.
Several weeks later, I received the report, which stated that there was a drug they could have given me that would have had a "meaningful impact" in the amount of blood I loss, but they didn't know the best time to administer it, so they didn't until after the blood loss.
Three months on and physically, DD and I are fit and healthy. I'm a trainee psychotherapist, and have been in counselling for a few years now, so I had a weekly outlet for everything I was thinking about, and a good understanding of mental health. But despite all this, I hold an indescribable amount of rage towards the whole event. My husband and I had decided during the pregnancy that this would be our only child (due to the strains of my T1D, and our personal circumstances), and while I know birth can be unpredictable, I cannot get over how awful my only experience of childbirth was, and how long my DD and I were separated for. It honestly seemed like no one at the hospital gave a shit until we were reunited and on the ward.
We have our birth debrief in two days, and I have spent all day researching best practices during PPROM, emergency caesareans etc... armed with knowledge and statistics and a whole host of questions.
Thank you for listening to my ramble. I'd love to know if anyone had any similar experiences, or any words of comfort/advice!