Hey everyone,
Today's post is a personal one, notably on my experience with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder following the birth of my eldest child. To quickly catch you up, I was induced at 37 weeks after a 4-night stay in the Antenatal Unit where my blood sugars and baby's heart rate was closely monitored. My OB was on vacation and my care was transferred to another Doctor, who I didn't really get along with. She had cancelled my scheduled induction that my actual OB had planned, and she discharged me from the unit. While I was relieved to go home, I was really disappointed that all of the planning that had gone into my induction was then cancelled, so after some time resting at home (about a day) I tried to fight for my initial induction date to be rescheduled. She told me that she wanted me to get to 38 weeks (coincidentally when my OB was back from her trip), and her excuses were the following: one time she delivered a baby before 38 weeks who needed a feeding tube which ruined the baby's vocal cords permanently, and when I said that my OB had deliberately scheduled my induction to avoid the higher risk of C-Section, she said, "well Dr (Insert my OB's name) has never delivered a baby that couldn't breathe". Obviously the bedside manner was horrendous, and neither of those statements are encouraging, but especially not when you're on the brink of delivering your first baby. Luckily I was able to fight enough to have my induction moved to only one day later than originally planned, but unfortunately for me its was scheduled for a day when the poor-bedside manner Doctor was working.
I went in to be induced, hooked up to monitors, Pitocin etc, and things started to get going. After nearly 12 hours I asked for an epidural and received one, the pain began to numb and the anasthesiologist said he would be back in 20 minutes to check that it worked. I next saw that anesthesiologist in the operating theatre about 10 minutes later. Essentially our baby's heart rate had decreased when I was having contractions, which is fairly normal, but when the contraction would end her heart rate wouldn't go back to normal. Within minutes I was packed up to go to the OR, with a very quick and scary goodbye to my Mother and Mother-in-Law, the nurse literally said "you only have time to say goodbye" while I was in the hallway on the bed like in some sort of movie medical emergency. When I was pushed through the double-doors I was separated from my husband who had to gear-up, very quickly said goodbye and surgery began very quickly. My epidural hadn't fully kicked-in, they placed an ice cube on my leg, asked if I could feel it and I said "no", then on my abdomen and I said "yes" and then they said "is it as cold as it is here?", placed it on my shoulder, and when I said "no", they turned and said, "okay you can start" while simultaneously injecting something into my epidural IV line (I think it was just an extra dose or maybe something stronger but they never told me). I couldn't feel sharp pain to indicate that they were cutting, but I felt most all other movement. I was shaking uncontrollably, due to both the anesthesia but also due to my core body temperature dropping as my abdomen was cut open, and still my husband wasn't in the room. I asked for him and the nurse who was waiting for the baby's arrival said, "oh yes, let me get him", which sort of indicated that things were urgent enough that they had begun without remembering him. They kept asking me if I was in pain and wanted medication because I was wincing as they prepared to birth my child. I said no, and that I just wanted my husband to talk to me and distract me, which he kindly did. Then very suddenly our daughter was born, we were informed she was a girl (a total surprise to me!) and my husband was instructed to hold her after she was quickly rushed away to be weighed and taken care of. He was able to sit beside me and do skin-to-skin with her while I was still being operated on, but I wasn't able to hold her until I was in recovery. They were moved to the recovery room for quite some time before I was finished in the OR, and when I was wheeled in it's a bit of a blur holding her for the first time, and I know it didn't last too long because they wanted to keep checking my bleeding and incision etc. After what felt like a short while, but was in reality a couple of hours, I was moved to the Maternity Ward. I held her for a while, they checked her blood sugar, a nurse hand-expressed colostrum from me as I was very weak, didn't know what I was doing at all, and ultimately didn't care what happened to my body anymore, and then we were left alone. I knew my daughters blood sugar was low, but they weren't low enough at the time for her to move to the NICU. I wanted to hold her, and did briefly (although I have no recollection of attempting to begin nursing), and then the nurse came in and told me I should put her down and get some rest. The next morning, very early, she was taken to the NICU and in my post-surgery state and I couldn't even sit myself up, let alone follow her to her new room.
Overall the C-Section recovery was to this day the most painful thing I've experienced. Not being able to hold or see my new baby very often was also traumatic, and trying to be "brave" for all the visitors and my husband was equally draining.
I had recurring nightmares of the C-Section itself for nearly 2 years. If I drove past the hospital I could point out the NICU hallway windows and almost had a panic attack just looking at them. I used a lotion that my in-laws had brought to the hospital to help with the stretching and pain my stomach felt, and as soon as I smelled it I had a panic attack. I relived the experience over and over in my head, I brought it up when it wasn't the topic of conversation at all, dwelled on what had happened, and ultimately I was diagnosed with Postpartum Depression and put on a low-dose antidepressant. It helped mildly as I felt I didn't have the chance to bond with my newborn, but I still had the recurring dreams and fears of my birth experience. It was when I became pregnant with my second baby that the panic and anxiety really ramped up, and the absolute terror that I would have to do it all over again. I saw a therapist who diagnosed me with minor PTSD and birth trauma- something I had never considered. We had many sessions discussing my fears and worries, but the positive birth for my second child was also shattered when we found out he was going to be stillborn at 22 weeks. Incredibly, I was able to have a VBAC delivery, it went exactly as I wished my first baby was born. It was peaceful and calm, I was able to labour in the bath without all the monitors attached to me, I could move and despite him being stillborn, I was still able to do skin-to-skin with our son, and I did feel the overwhelming sense of love and connection that so many mothers describe feeling when they meet their babies for the first time.
I'm currently pregnant with our third child, 26 weeks gestation, and I haven't had a single panic attack since my son was born and I was able to experience a positive, controlled birth. Obviously, not everyone will be able to just have another baby in such a way to alleviate their PTSD, but I've deliberately described some of the symptoms I've experienced to hopefully help mothers to recognize that what they may think is baby blues, postpartum depression or anxiety could actually be PTSD, especially if their birth experience was especially traumatic, which, unfortunately, quite a few can be. Please reach out and talk to someone if this is something you've experienced because you aren't alone and help is out there.
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