My story
I've been kinda lurking here for a while since I heard of this group. It's been six months almost since my son was cut out of me.
So this was my second pregnancy. I was hoping for a VBAC, as the first one was a section that I had come to find out MAY have been unnecessary. I had a marginal previa the first time, and being naive and stupidly trusting, didn't so much as ask how close was too close. And they never told me how close it was, and never told me that having a section put me at risk for placenta accreatia(?sp) in the future.
This time, I didn't have any medical problems that led to it. I just went to the hospital too early and didn't have good labor support. I should have gone back home when they told me I was only 4 cm, but I didn't. That was my first mistake. I was raised in the south (mostly) in a VERY patriarchal religion/cult. I have serious problems standing up to male authority figures. And the fact that I'd been in early labor for a week and hadn't had a decent night's sleep that whole week didn't help either. My husband was supposed to be helping by standing up to the doctors for me. I thought I had prepped him enough, but I was wrong. I knew going in that they would put me on a timetable, and mentioned it a time or two when the OB was trying to talk me into letting him break my water. He looked suprised. The asshole. They finally got me to consent to that and things went downhill from there. I managed with no pain meds from the time we got there around dawn. They had me on constant fetal monitering, which meant I was stuck on the bed. For the first several hours I cheated by getting up to go pee a lot. Then the head nurse told me I had to stay on the bed.
The contractions were easier to deal with when I could stand up and deprived of movement they got worse. I had a deathgrip on the handrail through every one. I didn't want ANYONE touching me. This was after I caved to the water breaking I think. My time sense of it all is kinda blurry. I know they broke my water after noon because I was starving and wanted lunch and they didn't want me to eat or drink. I was hooked up to the IV, by a tube in the side of my arm, which left a scar and bruised my bone, I think, as it took about a month before it stopped hurting.
I got dialated to ten and started wanting to push. They were getting me to do coached forced pushing, which I did NOT like. And then came the really traumatic part for me. With NO warning I got a whole hand shoved inside me. I screamed, for the first time my whole labor. The nurse did this some, and also the OB. When I found Stirrups and Stories after, I found out they were probably trying to stretch my perinium. But I had no idea at the time, I just knew it Fucking HURT and I felt horribly violated, especially as my husband was just sitting there watching while I screamed.
After what had to be less than an hour of pushing (on my BACK, b/c they didn't want me to get up) the OB (shithead) starting making noise about a section. My husband asked if the baby was okay and the OB said yes, but then he pulled the dead baby card. I threw a panicky despairing glance at my husband. A "please don't let this happen" look. But he didn't do anything or say anything else. So they told me to stop pushing and started prepping me for surgery, and I started crying. It hurt not to push, I was exhausted and violated and wishing I had just stayed home. I was writhing in agony with the need to push. I dozed through the section I was so tired. I only woke up occaisionally because I was freezing cold and shivering. They said that was a side effect. I was shaking too hard to hold him for an hour or two after he was born. I nursed him as soon as I was able to hold him. After he was born, the OB came in and made OMGZ!! Big Baby!! noises. He was only 8 lbs 9 oz. My first son was 8 lbs 3 oz. Neither were what I would consider a BIG baby. His birth certificate has him born a little after 3 pm, which is how I know I was pushing for less than ONE hour.
So anyway, after the stuff from surgery wore off, I was on ZERO pain meds. I kept telling them I couldn't swallow pills, but they never listened. I got prescribed these HUGE IBprofen things. I was only able to get down one that my husband cut up for me. the rest of the time I had no pain relief. Which. sucked. ass. I got my butt home asap, and the only thing i missed was the mechanized bed. Not that it was comfy, but it made it easier to get up when you could raise the top of the bed to help you sit up.
Since then I have had ZERO libido. I'm like one of those Victorian or 1950s housewives where sex is a duty rather than a pleasure. It especially sucks since I know I used to enjoy it and I can't anymore. I tense up and I have to pretend really hard that I'm not there just to get through it without freaking out. So my fear/distrust of doctors that I had before has GREATLY intensified, and since it extends to psychologists/shrinks, there is no help to be had there. (Also we don't have insurance now, so it would have to be out of pocket and we can't afford that) And I have hot flashes, and my scar is both numb and painful. It's numb if you just touch the skin, but any pressure on it hurts. And I keep thinking I feel something biting me but when I look nothing is ever there, but I am not sure if that is related.
Sorry if this is long and rambly. And I think the LJ cut messed up so I might have to come back and fix it.