I'll post this once and then I'll hide the thread because the "what did you expect with your vagina" comments have raked up hurt from 14 years ago and made me cry, but I shall continue to tell what happened to me because it was absolutely appalling.
It concerns the period of time that is being investigated by Ockenden - so I finally felt some vindication that Shit Was Actually Wrong when that review was launched as for years I blamed myself and assumed I'd deserved it.
I went into premature labour with DD1 at late 33 weeks. I had pelvic girdle pain problems so bad I'd been on crutches and virtually housebound, so obviously I'd researched the importance of trying to protect my springy pelvic bits during delivery and that you needed to note the gap you could move your legs apart without pain before spinals etc. I was fucking terrified of being left in that pain long term as it was absolutely horrific.
Long story short - I have funny labours I now know - I get the pain but not the dilation (therefore no fucking pain relief) and then (to quote the midwife who delivered DD2 "blimey you just go bang") go 0cm to baby in stupid time (sub 10mins with DD2). At the time - I knew none of this of course (and no one would have listened to me anyway).
So DD1 had decided in her usual style of doing things as dramatically as she can do, that she was going to attempt to make an early entrance, back to back, executing a nice spin as she did so - and her aspirations exceeded the ability to execute this - so backup was called for, forceps were discussed and I was TOLD I was having a spinal.
All I wanted was for them to document and stick to a relatively safe pain free gap so I didn't end up long-term damaged. Didn't refuse the forceps, didn't refuse the spinal - just wanted them to note that before they numbed me up. A room which felt full of doctors shouting at me that they were GOING to do this and I was not going to stop them, and me trying to convey that I just wanted to try to make sure that I didn't end up with a permanently fucked pelvis - and they shouted at me more and more and more. Then one woman rolled her eyes - waved a tape measure in the air, said "see, done" and they proceeded to whip me up for a spinal and get the forceps out. I remember the realisation that the fleshy things right up near my ears were my knees. I also reacted to the spinal and couldn't stop shaking - was ignored completely, and I asked why something in theatre was beeping alarmingly - and was told "you don't need to know".
I'd also asked them to tell me if they were going to need to make a cut - not to ask, just to tell me out of courtesy to know what was going on down there. I was fully conscious throughout and they actually said to me "we can't cut without your consent - that will NOT happen"... then I found out they did so anyway - and I was perfectly able to give them any consents required.
DD1 was born - they didn't even tell me whether she was a boy or girl - then, to hammer it home, they rang social services on me as a "resistant patient" so I had to deal with the safeguarding being investigated while I was on the post natal ward from hell and DD was in NICU (my community midwife went mildly thermonuclear when she heard what had gone on).
I have a massively fucked up pelvis, permanent pelvic and hip pain to the point I cry with how much it hurts sometimes. I have such massive trauma about it that even seeing the hospital curtains can trigger flashbacks, it's completely destroyed my sex life and there's no chance at all I'd get a smear or anything because no medic is going down there. DD2 was one of the few shags I had post-DD1, and it was only when I saw how staff reacted when I said what had happened with DD1 and how absolutely shocked they were - that I realised that what had gone on was completely fucked up. With DD2 my consent was checked throughout, and when I needed a spinal to retrieve a stuck placenta - they handled my wrecked pelvis like it was made of glass - such care and trying not to move more than required - I even remember a conversation with the theatre staff while he was furtling about up there while we were all discussing Holby City!
I did not deserve to be treated how I was. I was not trying to restrict medical intervention or chase some idea of an idealised birth - but I was nothing more than an inconvenient slab of meat in the way of the baby. 14 years on and the trauma is still raw - and that's despite counselling in the interim. It doesn't leave you.