Last night in a conversation with Marc, we briefly touched upon the labour and the birth I had with Ivy, and when thinking about it I realised that the last time we spoke about it was the night after it happened. In 9 months, neither of us have sat down and talked about what happened, the experience from both sides and how it has actually affected us.
And it got me thinking that, because I healed quickly and because when I tell people my story, often I get ‘Oh yeah I had that’, and therefor I almost feel like I shouldn’t be affected by it. But the fact of the matter is, I had a traumatic labour and birth and mentally, it has completely petrified me.
You may have read the story but to put it in brief, Ivy was 12 days late, I was induced in 3 different ways, in active labour for 16 hours, ended up delivery in theatre with forceps resulting in a third degree tear, followed by a haemorrhage of 2.1 litres and a blood transfusion. You may say ‘oh well that’s nothing, I lost 3 litres and had two transfusions’ or something worse than what I had, but that doesn’t mean I’m not a victim of birth trauma
I had two sweeps and they did sweet FA. At 10 days I was induced but the first method didn’t work. My waters were broken artificially and my contractions were irregular and therefor had to be regulated. My body would not physically go into labour by itself. It just didn’t want to, and it obviously didn’t enjoy being forced to. I then suffered a PPH because my womb did not contract back as it should do after delivery. So this has me thinking, does my body just not cope with labour and birth? We all know my pregnancy was perfect, so I know I can carry a baby with no problem, but the end result is the scary part.
It was really hard for Marc to witness because he was there watching it happen until he was physically thrown out of theatre by the staff with no explanation, and later when I was in recovery, I could see how much he was traumatised by it. At the time, I felt like I needed to be the strong one for him, to comfort him and tell him I was okay and he didn’t need to worry, because I didn’t want a big thing made of it – despite the fact it was a huge thing!
Ivy’s birth is something that comes across my thoughts everyday. I have always wanted two children, I am one of two and I am surrounded by friends who are one of two, its something that is in me to have, but the thought of going through it all again terrifies me to the core. People will always say ‘Oh it rarely happens again’ or ‘You can opt for a C-section if it was that bad’ but firstly, it could still happen again, and secondly, having a C-section doesn’t mean my womb will react differently, the same thing could happen again.
I’ll be treated as a high risk pregnancy with constant monitoring and will have to deliver on a labour ward, there will be no chance of a water birth or a birth centre birth, or even a home birth (not that I would have one but you know it would be nice to say I have the option). It’s such a difficult decision to make in life. I have seen so many posts recently about a family of 3 becoming a family of four with one girl and one boy and the caption ‘Our family is now complete’. What does that mean? Have I not completed a family if I only have Ivy? If I have another girl is it still not complete? Am I living my life half finished if I don’t have another baby?
Ivy is only 9 months, and probably from the day she was born people ask me if I will have another one and it is the most infuriating question. Ivy is my first born child, let me enjoy her, let me bask in her glory, let me take in everything it is to be a mother and have this small person growing up in front of you, and most importantly, let me heal. Let me heal physically and mentally, no matter how long it takes
Mummy Ruby x