“I broke down in tears, and asked her for help…”
After trying to conceive for a year and a half, by the grace of God, I was over the moon! I was pregnant! I had no idea what happens next, I was told by my family members to now take extra care of my health and baby. I was so excited for this journey I knew nothing about.
As each day passed, I started to feel very nauseous, but to me this was all normal especially in the early days of pregnancy. It started from throwing up 4/5 times a day to throwing up every 15 minutes. Those crackers, ginger biscuits, chewing gums, fizzy drinks, nothing was working. Eventually it came to a point where I was taken to hospital. After a few tests, I was diagnosed with hyperemesis gravidarum and was admitted. I was kept in the dark for a good 3 hours until a nurse came and told me that I’ll be on IV’s until the urine tests had fewer ketones. Again waiting on a chair for hours, vomiting non stop, and eagerly waiting for someone to come and give me a bed. Eventually I was given a bed. Hours later I was told that I will be getting anti sickness injections. Well no one ever looks forward for a shot, but we be hoping to get gentle hands on us. A nurse walked in and without a single word stabbed me with the injection. “Ouch”! She looked at me with eyes full of disgust and said “well you got to get used to these you’ll be getting them everyday until you’re here!” I felt so abandoned. Yet I’d still await for a nurse to come and tell me that everything will be okay. As days went by, I felt like I was treated quite unequally to the rest of the ladies. I was the only Asian girl in the ward so I couldn’t have been supposing this on my own.
Another instance which I remember till today... it was time for breakfast, so the serving lady walked in the ward asking every patient what they’d like to have. Due to the severe sickness I could only think of trying toast, so I asked her. She rolled her eyes as if she heard me. I kind of knew from her gestures that I wasn’t going to get anything anyway. I hadn’t eaten for days, and the urge to throw up just wouldn’t stop. She was nowhere to be seen for a whole hour. I had called other nurses that were on duty to please get me something to eat, but one after the other I was being snubbed. After hours of calling for help, I was lucky enough to get something to eat. I was forced to conclude that the way I was being looked upon was definitely unethical.
I had to many a times beg the doctors to give me anti sickness medicine because at this point I felt like I couldn’t survive any longer. The doctor would come and insist me to keep going without medication. And when I would question, they’d claim that it’s harmful for the baby. Yet other asian doctors would contradict and say these medicines are completely benign. Alas, it took a whole trimester for doctors to finally put me on anti sickness tablets. During the rest of my pregnancy, I had several appointments with the midwife.
Well let me give a detailed account about my first ever adventurous birth. I was exactly 37 weeks pregnant, when the most frightful thing happened. I started bleeding. Oblivious to what shall happened next, I lost my nerve and was sure that this was not going to be a good sign. I was rushed to hospital and immediately put on a bed, where me and baby were being monitored. Baby seemed fine. The midwives seemed more baffled than me. I’d cry out to them and ask how comes this has happened. And they’d say it’s very rare. “You’re probably in labour”. One after the other, the agonising pain, and intense contractions made it unendurable for me. After some time a midwife walked in. After introducing herself, she informed me that whatever the next step is, we have to be quick. So she told me that she was going to check if I’m dilated at all.
I had no sort of hunch about how this was going to be. It was the most painful thing I ever experienced. My screams would echo round the whole ward. Begging them to stop. They tried speaking me through it again. Once again I was howling in pain. I was not going to go through the examination again. The midwife gave up on me and went to discuss with her team about what would happen next. It was past evening when a male doctor walked in. He looked at me as if I was obstinate for no reason. Whilst checking the computer screen he spoke, “Hi I’m here to check how dilated you are because you seem to refuse the other midwives!”. My heart sunk, my body started to tense up again. With a trembling voice I said “Sorry I can’t let you do the examination.” It was as if I had attacked him by saying no. He took a firm step towards me and said, “Well, in that case you cannot stay in this room. You’ll be moved to another ward where you and baby will not be monitored. However after a few hours someone will come and check how baby is doing!” Once again I felt forsaken. Pleading for help I cried, “Please don’t do this to me. How will I know if my baby is okay?!”. He shrugged his shoulders and said you’ll have to leave, there are more patients that need to be seen. Abandoned as I felt, I walked through and sat on the bed where I had to spend the night. Dazed and restless, I tried to convince myself for another 5th time, to allow them to examine how dilated I was. “What if my baby died?” “ I can do this!” I wept all night trying to note how many times my baby had moved inside of me.
On the 16th July at 9am, an asian female doctor, along with 3 white female midwives walked in. “I heard you’re refusing to let us check?!” I nodded my head and replied. “It’s extremely painful.” “I’m bleeding very heavy.” She told me to relax and think about how close I was to meeting my baby. Again I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Everything seemed so muffled. My brain wasn’t functioning. She said, like all the other midwives, “I’ll be gentle I promise.”
Trying to thrust her whole hand inside she said “see it’s not a big deal.” “My daughters younger than you she’s more braver than you!” Just 10 seconds in, I screamed on top of my voice. I jumped. That was the end. I moved back and said I can’t do this anymore. This was not gentle. She smirked at me and said “how did you get pregnant if you can’t take this?!” I said, “say what you like I will not allow any more examinations.” She took her gloves off, threw them on the bed and looked at me, with so much antipathy, she yelled at me ,”well good luck! If anything happens to your baby you will be responsible!”. At this point I was numb. I had no idea what was coming next. Who’d walk in the room, and what I would be next terror I’d face. 3 hours later, a nurse came and told me that now my case has reached another team that will come and speak to me about what to do next. I was hopeful this time. I was still sanguine. I was going to meet my first baby. How will she look like... Battling between fear and joy, I got a knock on the door. “Hi I’m a surgeon, and I’m here to discuss your last and safest option. Due to your bleeding, we will have to get the baby out as soon we we can. And because you’re finding the examinations very painful, we will have to do an emergency Caesarean section.” I was so puzzled I just broke down and said I failed. I wasn’t able to birth my child naturally. My body failed. I maybe didn’t try hard enough. She held my hand and said, “You will still birth your child. Your body will be ripped open. Your baby will taken our of your belly. You kept it inside for 37.1 weeks. You grew this child. Do not ever mistaken a c section to be the easy way out. Lets talk about the possible side effects and get you to the theatre as quick as we can.”
For the first ever time I felt like I had been rescued. I felt like this was the end of my pain. My baby, I was going to hold any hour from now. She took my signature and consent. I was told to change into the hospital gown. And taken to the theatre. I was still terrified. I never ever imagined in my wildest thoughts that I would be having a c section. All I was frightened about was the injection in the back! Pain! The nurse held my hand. “Are you ready?” “You need to be as still as you can.” I squeezed her hand with all the energy I had left. And “shot” it was over. They laid me down and said are you excited? I nodded yes I feel much better now.
“Okay so we’re waiting for the anaesthetic to completely numb you and we’ll start.” In a matter of 2-3 minutes I was all numb. “Right we’re going to start now!” I looked up to the ceiling, with butterflies in my stomach, the excitement to see my baby girl was getting uncontrollable. Cut! I didn’t feel a thing, not even a scratch. Wow this was so much more easier why didn’t I ask for a c section before????
“A minute left! You ready young lady?”
“Yes!” as I cried tears of joy.
*15:21* ...
“Congratulations your baby girl has arrived!”
My heart stopped beating. I couldn’t hear a sound. I was in denial. She had arrived. It was over. When will I hear her cry? As tears rolled down my cheeks, I heard my baby girl cry for the first time. My heart melted. I was dying for skin to skin with my baby. All the surgeons and midwives came over to congratulate me.
As they held her high to show me, they spoke amongst themselves, “Her oxygen level is critically low!” They took her straight away, put the oxygen mask on her and told me that I had to wait. My husband cut the umbilical cord. And during that time I was being stitched up. “you’re all done” said the surgeon. I was ready to go with my baby to my room for recovery.
“We’re sorry your baby will be taken to NICU for the next couple of days until her oxygen levels are normal.” It all came to me like a jolt. I didn’t even have a chance to question. A quick kiss on her cheek and she was gone to the NICU. I was taken to my recovery room. Where I spent the rest of the evening.
A few midwives came to ask on how I was doing. I was absolutely numb. I felt so empty. No baby. No baby bump. Couldn’t move. As time went by, I started to feel the throbbing pains in my abdomen. I was told to take painkillers every few hours. Okay, a c section was not the easy option at all. I couldn’t turn, it took me 10 minutes to walk to the toilet that was not even 3 meters from my bed. I would ask how my baby was doing. “She’s doing great! We need you to start expressing your milk!”
Again, a totally new struggle for me. I tried. I would be using an electric pump for 15 minutes every 2 hours. I started to get a few acerbic comments from some midwives like “Oh you need to try harder! You have to bare some sort of pain in life!” As if all the staff in that hospital knew what had been happening pre birth. I got comments like “You don’t have to breastfeed. You can just give formula. Doesn’t seem like you’ll give your baby enough anyway!” I was still so assertive that this is the one thing that I will do no matter what! To the point where I had a midwife walk in my room. She looked at me pumping and said “that’s it?! Come on you want your baby to die cause of this?! Stop being so stubborn and just give her formula. She’s been hungry for so long!”
Another defeat. I failed again. I broke down in tears, and asked her for help. She was so sarcastic. She held my hand and said look let me feed your baby the bottle! I couldn’t argue. I was weak. I nodded my head yes please feed my baby. She grabbed my baby and said look it wasn’t that hard. If you can’t breastfeed then you always have this option. All my dreams, as a first time mother were destroyed. I was made to feel like I wasn’t even ready or able to become a mum.
My first experience has traumatised me so much, I can’t cope to think about having another child. My daughter and me were sent home after 5 days. I fell into post traumatic stress disorder. My health visitors all knew how horrific my experience went.
My daughter is almost a year old now, and I still get goosebumps and shivers as I type my first ever birth story. As patients, we look up to our doctors and nurses as our saviours. We trust them. We trust them with our lives and our bodies.