3 thoughts on “Having a Baby after a Traumatic Birth

  • August 16, 2017 at 8:06 am

    Thank you for this.

    For me, my birth was traumatic. Yes, I am naming it.

    My doctor induced labor against my will. They decided to keep me under observation before admitting me. When they decided to admit me, they wouldn’t let me get my birth plan out. They told me and my husband that it would be a long time so we should get our rest. As the pain increases, the staff refused to check on me and my husband became furious that I wasn’t following directions and sleeping. I started going through transition as he made fun of my face and my breathing. He said I was embarrassing him. They wouldn’t give me anything for pain. Then we they finally checked on me I was fully dilated. The doc gave me an episiotomy as a routine, once again against my wishes. They lost my baby and sewed my up without anesthetic and wrong so that I had to have another surgery.

    I had nightmares.

    Everyone told me that I was lucky. I had a perfect birth and healthy baby. That made me feel insane.

    Thankfully my next OB was very understanding and the hospital and nursing staff were great.

    • August 16, 2017 at 9:35 am

      Hi Jen and thank you for sharing your story. I am so sorry this happened to you but so glad to hear you had much better support with your subsequent OB. Wishing you well!

  • August 18, 2017 at 10:29 pm

    It was my first pregnancy and I went into labour on my due date. I was then admitted into the natal unit of the local hospital, and after going through the admission process, which was horrible, the midwife gave me something to help me get some sleep. She said I had a few hours to go. Had I any idea of what was ahead of me, I would have checked myself out of the hospital and gone to another one. The midwife attending to me was a very abusive woman. She did things to me that I knew was wrong, such as grabbing the pillows stacked behind me and yanking them away. I fell flat on my back and that’s how she left me to deliver the baby. I lay for a long time without anyone coming in to check on me, then she came marching into the room and when she checked me she discovered there was a lot of blood. She then started yelling at me and calling me names and saying I was a stupid woman. I had no idea that I was lying there bleeding. Two nursing assistants came to take me to the delivery room. With one on each arm they walked me along the long corrider whilst I was having contractions about three minutes apart. The midwife forbid that I use a wheelchair however, one of the assistants left and came back with a wheelchair and just as I was about to get in the chair, the midwife appeared and yelled at the assistants to ‘make her walk.’ It was awful!

    In the delivery room she caused me so much stress and fear I prayed that the delivery would soon be over. She gave me and injection and the contractions stopped. Next thing she hooked me up to the machine that starts the contractions and put the number at eight. I couldn’t even take a breath between each contraction, next thing she was yelling at me again about not pushing the right way. I told her this is my first baby but she continued to mistreat me. When I was having a contraction she catherised me to empty the bladder. Not only was in painful she bruised the urethea and it led to an infecion. She left the room and sent a nurse in to give me another injection which killed the contractions again. By that time I was so deeply disturbed and distressed by her behaviour that I asked a nurse to bring a doctor which she did.

    The consultant who was on duty walked into the room and held my hand, while I told her about the way the midwife was behaving. The consultant then told the midwife to leave the room. In a gentle voice she explained to me that my pelvis was way too small to deliver a baby normally, and that the baby was in face presentation and transverse too thus, I couldn’t possibly delivery the baby normally. By that time I was exhausted and distressed as was the baby too. The next thing I knew several different medical people were in the room to help with the delivery. As the anaesthetist began to inject the anaesthetic I prayed to God that both my baby and I would live. I honestly thought that we would die.

    I woke up to the the sound of my baby boy crying which was a huge relief to hear. I had 32 stiches as they had to cut the vagina to get the baby out. They took my little boy away and didn’t let me see or hold him until the next day, when they packed my things and put me in an ambulance to take me to a respite for mother’s who’s had a complcated delivery.
    I had to learn to breast feed which turned in to another ordeal because I has so much milk and breast engorgement. Two nights later I woke up with a fever and a doctor was sent for and I was treated for an infection. One week later I was sent home and I felt emotionally battered. Next thing I was diagnosed with post natal depression. My husband said that there was no such thing as PND and it’s only women who don’t want their babies that get it. The PND progressed into full blown clinical depression. Yet again my husband slapped me right down by saying that I’m weak, and that I shouldn’t have had a baby in the first place. He worked away from home and after the baby was born he seldom came home to the extent that I was raising our son single handedly. I had no family of my own to help me so, I had to rely on my instincts to care for my son.

    I developed a such a fear of going out, to the extent that I asked my neighbour to do some shopping for the essentials. That’s not even half of the story but I shall finish here. The whole thing had turned into a nightmare and I vowed I’d never have another baby and I meant it. My husband and I split up and several years later I remarried but, we didn’t have a child. My second husband was very understanding about it. The trauma of it all and being left to raise my son alone has left deep scars in my psyche. I couldn’t talk to anyone about what I’d gone through and I was battling depression while raising my little boy. I made him the centre of my world and today he is a fine young man who is soon to be 39 years old. We have a close and loving relationship which I treasure with all my heart but, when I lood back at the experience I had, I still find it hard to think about. This is the first time I’ve told my story.


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