Solena
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Please be warned, this is not a good birth story. The only good part about it was the ending - I went home with my DD, and we were bonded well by then.
To begin with, I was having a low-risk pregnancy. I was looking forward to giving birth on the low-risk ward, where I would have a big room with a double bed, a private bathroom with a huge bath, the option to waterbirth - basically, a nice, natural birth.
By the start of the second trimester, I was having difficulties walking. The relaxin, combined with an old injury, made the left side of my pelvis constantly give out. By the end of the second trimester, I was swelling up a bit too fast. After an overnight stay in hospital towards the end of the second trimester, the midwives decided to order a blood test for every check-up. My BP was too high, my liver was showing signs of stress. Shortly before DD's due date, my kidneys were showing signs of stress too. At a routine check-up, the midwife called the doctor in who, after looking at the blood test and urine test results, and how huge my legs and arms were, said they would be inducing the next morning.
So now I was on the high-risk ward. Still had a private bathroom - but with no bath
At 7.30am the doctor came in to break my waters. They waited an hour to see if that would induce labour, but it didn't. At 8.30am the pit drip went in. That, along with the monitors on my belly and the one clipped to DD's head meant that even having a shower would not be possible.
Around 11am, the pain got too much. Gas & air was set up - that part I loved. I was so out of it that I didn't even realise how much pain I was in. At 1pm, a doctor came in and told me that my blood pressure was too high, I could have either a magnesium drip (which would require 48 hours of not leaving bed) or an epidural (which also came with pain relief!). I picked the epidural, knowing that my likelihood of a c-section just went up again.
As soon as the epidural hit, I fell asleep. I woke up around 4.30pm. Two hours later the doctor said it was time to push. I tried. After nearly an hour of that, the doctor had a feel around inside to try and work out where DD was. It didn't feel right, so she got a portable ultrasound.
DD was not in *any* position to allow for a natural birth. I can't remember what exactly the problem was. Despite the epidural, I was out of it. By this stage the cuff for checking my blood pressure had been left on my arm for an hour or so, just so that the checks every 15 mins were a bit easier. I went into shock.
The doctor had the surgical team and an operating theatre ready within 10 minutes. They would only let me pick one person to take in with me. That was my husband, no questions asked, but I would have loved it if my mother could have been in there too. She's a nurse and has been present at hundreds of surgeries, including a few c-sections, and could have been such a support to my husband. I was too out of it to say "Hey, if you can have a learning doctor in here, you can have my mum in here", I wish I'd thought of it!
Anyway, I was shaking so much that they had to get out this awesome blanket-like thing that blows warm air on you for my upper half. Even that barely did a thing. The first part of the emergency c-section went very well - after a short time they lifted out DD and passed her over to the waiting midwives. Then they started stitching me back up. I know because I felt it - the actual pain of it. After managing to whisper something to DH, I promptly threw up and passed out.
Apparently DH told the anesthetist, who immediately told everyone to stop while he passed DH a sick bag (for me) and gave me more of whatever they were using. The rest of the stitch up went fine, and they moved me to recovery.
At ~8pm, my first child was born. At 8.45pm, I woke up on the recovery ward, and by a little after 9pm I was allowed to hold her for the first time. As far as I know, DH was the only other person to have held her, and he'd told our parents and siblings that they would have to wait until after I'd been able to hold her.
The fun didn't end there. My blood pressure just would not go down. After a transfer to the women's ward, I was moved (with DD) back to the birthing ward, were they were more able to keep a close eye on my blood pressure. This turned out to be a bit of a blessing, as my nurse overnight was a lactation expert. When DD and I woke early the next morning, she taught me about breastfeeding. DD and I took to it perfectly - except I didn't even have colostrum for her.
The first few days were pretty normal. As I'd been on anti-depressants during parts of the pregnancy, I was already aware and prepared for the minimum 3-day stay. Thankfully I had packed some NB and 3 month old clothes - DD went straight into the 3 month size. After two units of blood, an allergic reaction to a medication or the blood, antibiotics and a lot of laying down, I was finally allowed to get out of bed - for showering and bodily functions only - at around 4pm. That was one of the most blissful showers of my life.
So, the next day and a bit went really well. DD slept and cried most of the time. By day 3 I was pretty sure that she was starving, that she wasn't really getting anything remotely close to enough milk from me. Turns out I was right - she'd lost 10% of her birth weight in three days. That, combined with pretty bad jaundice, got her a short stay in the special care nursery.
I spent most of the time between her minimum 3 hour apart feeds fast asleep in my own room. The nurses in special care helped me use lact-aid to supplement formula. They also showed me how to use the breast pump. This was where things started getting miserable for me. I *had* to pump a minimum of 15 minutes on each side after every feed, then put any milk I'd got into the fridge. By day 6 (the last day), I was over nurses touching me to get the lact-aid working when DH and I had managed to work it out just fine, I'd had a nurse make my DD scream in pain when she forced DD's mouth to my breast, and another nurse had made me wait two hours after I first called her before bringing in everything I needed. When that happened I had no one else with me that I could send off in search of the formula. By the time she came back I was getting my dressing gown and slippers on so I could pick DD up and walk through the ward until I found it myself.
And despite all that pumping - 4 hours a day of it - by the last day in hospital I'd pumped all of 5 mL.
To begin with, I was having a low-risk pregnancy. I was looking forward to giving birth on the low-risk ward, where I would have a big room with a double bed, a private bathroom with a huge bath, the option to waterbirth - basically, a nice, natural birth.
By the start of the second trimester, I was having difficulties walking. The relaxin, combined with an old injury, made the left side of my pelvis constantly give out. By the end of the second trimester, I was swelling up a bit too fast. After an overnight stay in hospital towards the end of the second trimester, the midwives decided to order a blood test for every check-up. My BP was too high, my liver was showing signs of stress. Shortly before DD's due date, my kidneys were showing signs of stress too. At a routine check-up, the midwife called the doctor in who, after looking at the blood test and urine test results, and how huge my legs and arms were, said they would be inducing the next morning.
So now I was on the high-risk ward. Still had a private bathroom - but with no bath
At 7.30am the doctor came in to break my waters. They waited an hour to see if that would induce labour, but it didn't. At 8.30am the pit drip went in. That, along with the monitors on my belly and the one clipped to DD's head meant that even having a shower would not be possible.Around 11am, the pain got too much. Gas & air was set up - that part I loved. I was so out of it that I didn't even realise how much pain I was in. At 1pm, a doctor came in and told me that my blood pressure was too high, I could have either a magnesium drip (which would require 48 hours of not leaving bed) or an epidural (which also came with pain relief!). I picked the epidural, knowing that my likelihood of a c-section just went up again.
As soon as the epidural hit, I fell asleep. I woke up around 4.30pm. Two hours later the doctor said it was time to push. I tried. After nearly an hour of that, the doctor had a feel around inside to try and work out where DD was. It didn't feel right, so she got a portable ultrasound.
DD was not in *any* position to allow for a natural birth. I can't remember what exactly the problem was. Despite the epidural, I was out of it. By this stage the cuff for checking my blood pressure had been left on my arm for an hour or so, just so that the checks every 15 mins were a bit easier. I went into shock.
The doctor had the surgical team and an operating theatre ready within 10 minutes. They would only let me pick one person to take in with me. That was my husband, no questions asked, but I would have loved it if my mother could have been in there too. She's a nurse and has been present at hundreds of surgeries, including a few c-sections, and could have been such a support to my husband. I was too out of it to say "Hey, if you can have a learning doctor in here, you can have my mum in here", I wish I'd thought of it!
Anyway, I was shaking so much that they had to get out this awesome blanket-like thing that blows warm air on you for my upper half. Even that barely did a thing. The first part of the emergency c-section went very well - after a short time they lifted out DD and passed her over to the waiting midwives. Then they started stitching me back up. I know because I felt it - the actual pain of it. After managing to whisper something to DH, I promptly threw up and passed out.
Apparently DH told the anesthetist, who immediately told everyone to stop while he passed DH a sick bag (for me) and gave me more of whatever they were using. The rest of the stitch up went fine, and they moved me to recovery.
At ~8pm, my first child was born. At 8.45pm, I woke up on the recovery ward, and by a little after 9pm I was allowed to hold her for the first time. As far as I know, DH was the only other person to have held her, and he'd told our parents and siblings that they would have to wait until after I'd been able to hold her.
The fun didn't end there. My blood pressure just would not go down. After a transfer to the women's ward, I was moved (with DD) back to the birthing ward, were they were more able to keep a close eye on my blood pressure. This turned out to be a bit of a blessing, as my nurse overnight was a lactation expert. When DD and I woke early the next morning, she taught me about breastfeeding. DD and I took to it perfectly - except I didn't even have colostrum for her.
The first few days were pretty normal. As I'd been on anti-depressants during parts of the pregnancy, I was already aware and prepared for the minimum 3-day stay. Thankfully I had packed some NB and 3 month old clothes - DD went straight into the 3 month size. After two units of blood, an allergic reaction to a medication or the blood, antibiotics and a lot of laying down, I was finally allowed to get out of bed - for showering and bodily functions only - at around 4pm. That was one of the most blissful showers of my life.
So, the next day and a bit went really well. DD slept and cried most of the time. By day 3 I was pretty sure that she was starving, that she wasn't really getting anything remotely close to enough milk from me. Turns out I was right - she'd lost 10% of her birth weight in three days. That, combined with pretty bad jaundice, got her a short stay in the special care nursery.
I spent most of the time between her minimum 3 hour apart feeds fast asleep in my own room. The nurses in special care helped me use lact-aid to supplement formula. They also showed me how to use the breast pump. This was where things started getting miserable for me. I *had* to pump a minimum of 15 minutes on each side after every feed, then put any milk I'd got into the fridge. By day 6 (the last day), I was over nurses touching me to get the lact-aid working when DH and I had managed to work it out just fine, I'd had a nurse make my DD scream in pain when she forced DD's mouth to my breast, and another nurse had made me wait two hours after I first called her before bringing in everything I needed. When that happened I had no one else with me that I could send off in search of the formula. By the time she came back I was getting my dressing gown and slippers on so I could pick DD up and walk through the ward until I found it myself.
And despite all that pumping - 4 hours a day of it - by the last day in hospital I'd pumped all of 5 mL.
(minus the Santa hat, though lol). Wow, talk about an unbelievably horrible time!! It might take you awhile to process all of this, know that that's okay, just be gentle with yourself. It's okay to feed your baby formula, ignore people's rude comments, just enjoy your little girl and take it easy as much as you can. 
