Its been 7 months now and yet i still sit here almost too scared to write ‘the story’ on paper, i still hold an element of fear in my heart toward the day that my beautiful daughter was born, and i still sit here wondering why it couldnt have just been easy for me, why i still have to have nightmares about what was meant to be the happiest day of my life.
It is not that 25 August 2010 wasnt the happiest day of my life – it was by a long shot, it is just that sometimes the happiest days in our lives are surrounded in emotions and fears that we dont know how to handle, emotions and fears that seem to be more difficult to handle than we first anticipated, and i guess the only way to really let you know how i feel is to tell the story, to begin from the first spec of light on the 24 August 2010….
It was 5am, the sun had already risen and my heart had already began beating faster with anticipation than i ever knew it to have done before. It was the last day i was going to have a baby in my belly, the very next day i would be a mother, the next day was the day that all my dreams would become reality, the day that i had waited what felt like a lifetime to come. I couldnt wait for my husband who slept peacefully beside me to wake, for we had such great plans for the day before baby… I sat up in bed poking my belly waiting for my morning kicks and squiggles, that day and the next were just going to be perfect, i had the days planned out in my head for weeks… I guess that was the benefit of having a scheduled c-section, knowing just when you were having your baby, being able to plan and organise things just the way you wanted them, there are its disadvantages, but at that point i was just so excited that all i could think about was just how fast i wanted the next 24 hours to fly by.
My husband finally woke and we both got out of bed and ready for the day ahead. If there is one thing about me that everyone knows it is that i am organised, and that i always have a plan… And of course the day before baby i had a plan; after we woke i would bake some cookies for my last day with unrestricted calories, we would head to the coffee shop for my standard triple shot latte (two shots decaf, one shot espresso), then we would attend our appointment at the hospital to confirm all the final details of the c-section. After the scheduled appointment in my mind i had thought that i would repack and double check my hospital bag then my husband and i would spend one last carefree evening together, enjoying a roast meal with all the trimmings and of course a bucket of basket and robins chocolate & peanut butter ice cream (yes, if there was one thing during my pregnancy i couldnt resist it was ice cream!) I was almost more excited about the day before my baby was to be born than the c-section day itself.
We were both as nervous and excited as each other, and as i baked what i knew was to be my final batch of triple choc chip cookies in a long while, my husband and i chatted our way through many pointless nervous conversations. I can remember quite clearly the smell of those cookies and the thoughts running through my head that i just wanted to eat one fresh from the oven, but i was saving them up for when i returned home from the hospital, at that point in time i was waiting to treat my taste-buds with a latte. We headed to the hospital and with latte in one hand, husbands hand in the other and a baby bouncing around inside i knew that everything was perfect, that after many many months of pain and heartache, nothing could be more perfect.
I would like to say that the rest of the day went as planned, i would like to say that the day continued to be perfect and i would like to say that my husband and i spent the last day together before becoming parents in pure bliss… But i cant. Just as the story has been, the story continues with nothing going to plan, nothing being easy and once again my body failing me in ways i wish wernt true. That day, the 24th August 2010 instead of having one last consult, instead of meeting with the anesthetist, instead of eating a ridiculous amount of cookies, i was admitted to hospital with high blood pressure…. Maybe it was for the best, maybe it was for my baby’s safety, but in my heart all i could think was that i was missing out on my ‘night before baby’ missing out on the last night alone with my husband… Missing out on my ice cream! Instead of being at home laying in bed hugging my husband, feeling my baby move around inside of me, i was in a hospital bed alone, hooked up to this machine and that eating fake mash potato and sandwiches that had been sitting in a fridge all day…. It wasnt the end of the world, i was in the best place for my babys health, but i was alone, the night before baby my husband and i spent in separate beds, we didnt wake up together, we didnt get one last hug, we were apart – and a part of my heart cried out that night as i just wanted to be with the man i loved, i just wanted the father of my child there with me.
The night lingered on, i didnt sleep a wink, through two nurse changes, six blood pressure checks, three baby heart beat monitoring sessions, through all my excitement and anxiousness, i didnt sleep a wink, my eyes didnt shut once and as the sun peered into my room to my surprise so did my husband. He had woken before the sun, packed together everything that should have been in my hospital bag weeks before, and rushed to be by my side, and at that point in time i couldnt have wished for anything more.
As my husband waited in my room, i showered and got ready for my c-section. As silly as it seems i dressed in my hospital gown, applied my make up, and put my hair in a bun with as much care as if i were getting ready for a party, i wanted to look perfect, i wanted more than anything for this to be a day to remember, and in someways it was – just not as i had hoped it would be. The hours passed like they were minutes, nurses checking up on me, my blood pressure still being monitored, and my husband and i looking up each time someone entered the room just hoping it was the person who was going to take us to the procedure waiting room. After what seemed like an eternity finally we were told that we were third on the list, that our baby would enter this world in but a few hours, to say the least both our hearts jumped with anticipation and excitement, our dream was finally becoming reality.
For the next few hours my husband and i mucked around taking silly photos and videos each minut
e passing my heart raced faster and faster until as if months had past finally a nurse came to wheel me down to the procedure waiting room. It seemed like i was just waiting and waiting and waiting, my husband was given his scrubs a nurse came and took some blood, groomed my very un groomed never regions, and another nurse came and inserted an IV, but still there was more waiting… I was watching the clock, it was 11.23am and i honestly wondered when i would finally get to meet my baby. With my husbands hand in mine a nurse wheeled me into the anesthetist room, it was a room filled with medication and pictures, and in front of me were two double doors where through a little circular window i could see the heads of what looked like 10 doctors working away delivering a baby, i was so excited all i could think was that i was next, that soon it would be my turn. My heart was working in overdrive and as the anesthetist entered the room my excitement turned to fear.
Everything that followed this point in time still breaks my heart. I dont know why it was so hard for me, i dont know why for me it was a horrible experience, and i really dont know why everything from that moment on brings nothing but nightmares. I had my husband by my side, i kept telling myself that people go through this all the time, that i was no different to anyone else, but it didnt change the fact that my body and mind didnt handle the pain, and didnt handle the discomfort, and didnt handle the emotions that were to come.
It felt like the second the anesthetist began feeling my spine my body began failing me. Seven months on and i can still remember shivering and shaking as i sat naked on the side of the bed trying to bend over feeling like i was squishing and hurting my little baby inside of me. I can remember the anesthetist getting frustrated at me, asking over and over for me to bend over more, but i couldnt, i couldnt because my baby’s head was stuck in my ribs squashing my lungs so i couldnt breath. I can remember my heart slowing and my head feeling light, sweat began pouring down my face and i began seeing stars – i was going to faint – the anesthetist had to stop, and after a minute of nurses holding me and my husband rubbing my upper back i was ok again, my blood pressure returned to normal, the stars subsided and the anesthetist tried again this time with success. By far the weirdest part of my experience was the sensation of my body going numb, i was given a spinal block and within minutes my legs to just below my chest was tingly and as the anesthetist checked my numbness with ice my mind began playing tricks on me. As i lay there numb not feeling my baby move anymore i was filled with fear more than i had ever been before in my life and as i lay there not knowing much of my surroundings apart from my husband by my side, i felt a tear roll down my cheek.
I turned my head and looked at my husband as they wheeled me through the double doors into the operating theatre, it wasnt like on tv, it wasnt dark, i can remember wondering why it was so bright and i can remember from that point on not really knowing where my husband was and not really understanding what was happening, feeling more and more helpless as the minutes passed by. There are few things i remember from that moment on, the heavy feeling as my numb body was transferred to the tiny operating table, the scared feeling as my arms were stretched out and a curtain was put up, with each step i can remember feeling more and more frightened and to this day i still do not know why. I still wonder why my mind was so frightened of something i had been preparing for, so scared for something that i knew was going to be ok, why i felt so alone even though i was surrounded by people, even though my husband was right by my side. The minutes passed by, nurses came in and out, students watched on, and as the procedure began i heard noises and felt things that still haunt me to this day.
The sound of my own flesh being cut open, the sensation of someone inside of you, the feeling of helplessness as someone pushes and pulls the life inside of you out, the life that you treasure with more than your own. Even seven months on i feel the helplessness every time i look down at my scar, even now i can remember beginning to feel sensation and pain as i told the anesthetist that i needed more meds, even now i can remember the doctor demanding the scissors as he cut the hole in me even larger as my poor little baby was stuck, i still feel the tugging and pulling, i still feel the fear in my heart, i still remember shaking uncontrollably, and i still remember the tears streaming down my face as the doctor made the final tug to get the baby inside of me out.
If it is one thing that shines through the negative emotions of the 25th of August 2010 it is the words my husband exclaimed the moment my miracle was pulled from inside of me…. “Its a girl!” And through the pain and the tears there are three words that came out of my mouth next that my husband and i will never forget, three words that will forever and a day bring a smile to both our faces, to anyones face…. The three words that followed my husbands announcement of our baby girl were “Are you sure?”… All i could think through my shivers and shakes was that i had to be sure, i had to be sure that my dreams of having a baby girl were becoming reality, i just had to be sure, i just had to have confirmation, to know that i wasnt dreaming, to know that this was real.
It was real, so very real, but as reality had it, i was stuck laying lifelessly on a cold operating table and for a minute i didnt know if she was ok, i couldnt hear her and i couldnt see her, there was only people everywhere. I began feeling pain again, i began shaking so uncontrollably that both my husband and the anesthetist had to hold me down, and from what i can recall i was crying uncontrollably as well. I turned my head to see my baby but still there was no noise, no crying and many nurses hovering over the crib, i honestly didnt know what was going on, and i still honestly dont know what happened in those moments after she was born, but i do know that my husband was there for her, i do know that he got to be by her side, to see her take her first breath, and i do know that he got to cut her umbilical cord, just as he said he would. I do know that while i missed out on knowing that she was ok, while i missed out on being there for her when she needed it, my husband didnt – he was there for her, and somehow knowing that makes me feel just that little bit better.
To this day i still dont remember holding her, i still dont remember looking into her eyes, and i still dont remember anything from that point on in the operating room but the tears and pain. It hurt, i was uncomfortable, i was still shaking and all i wanted was to hold the baby that was snuggled in a crib beside me. All i wanted was to hold the daughter i always wanted, but as fate had it i couldnt, all i could do was look at her beautiful little body being warmed in the crib. Maybe it was the drugs, maybe it is my memory playing tricks on me, but i dont remember telling the nurse her name and it hurts so deep in my heart that i dont remember the good things, that all i remember from that point on is the counting, the doctors removing the utensils from my body, seeing my leg in the air but not feeling it, the sensation of the doctor cleaning out my insides, the sensation of my skin being pulled back together, and the feeling once again of helplessness as my body shook from all the drugs going through my system.
The time passed neither quickly or slowly and as the drugs still streamed through my system and as my mind continued to play tricks on me, my heart hurt as i realised i was all alone in the theater, my husband and baby nowhere to be seen as the doctor finished the final stitches in the operation. Just as i thought i couldnt handle it anymore, just when i thought i wanted the whole experience to be over i was transferred from the cold operating table onto my hospital bed and wheeled into recovery where my precious little miracle lay still in her humidi crib
with her father right by her side. I think i managed a smile, i think i managed through the pain to feel some happiness, and at that moment i can remember being so grateful for the time i had – just me, my husband, my miracle baby – my new family. And if there is one thing i could change about the 25th August 2010 it wouldnt be the pain, the hurt, the shaking, the frightened feeling, the noises, the nightmares, no – i would simply wish that i could have spent the rest of the day just being with my husband and my baby, just the three of us, just enjoying those precious moments with our new born child.
From the recovery room to the ward was a blur, the rest of the day seemed to be a drug induced blur but i sit here now and even through the blur the most part of me wishes that my birth 
story had more happiness, that i didnt feel some of the emotions i felt, that i could just remember the precious first few hours i had with my child, but truth be told i dont remember the amazing moments i only remember the pain. I know that i am not the only one who goes through birth, c-sections and experiences that they dont expect, but a big part of me wishes that i didnt have to be in so much pain, that i didnt have to have the drugs running through my system, and a big part of me wishes that my husband and i and our new daughter could have had just that first day together, a part of me is still so angry that no one listened to me when i said not to come and visit on the day my daughter was born.
It had been barley an hour in the ward before the guests started coming by, some stayed a little while, some just came and went, some i wanted there and some i didnt, but seven months on and i am still so hurt that all i can remember is feeling so humiliated by the blood bag and the catheter attached to my body, that all i can remember about the day my daughter was born is the blood gushing out of me while people stood so close, that all i can remember from that day is the feeling of the pain meds running up my spine and the humiliation as guest after guest after guest saw me laying there helplessly not being able to hold my baby, not being able to feel anything, and still seven months on i am hurting by the fact that my family, my own family played what at the time i saw to be pass the parcel with my daughter. Seven months on and i still feel like it was all about the baby and that nobody cared about me – not even for a second, i still feel humiliated and angry that no one cared enough about us to respect my wishes, our wishes, and leave us be for just one day, to simply give my husband and i one day to bond with our precious miracle baby. And maybe a large part of me is angry that my husband and i didnt stand up for ourselves just a little bit louder, that i didnt have the strength to tell them to go, to let us be in peace when we needed it most.
I sit here looking at her now asleep in her cot and i know that it doesnt matter, i know that in the end it was only one day, and i know that no one but me remembers the details of the day she was born. But a huge part of me just wants to scream away the hurt i still harbor over that day, a huge part of me wants to yell at the people i love, yell at god, yell at myself and ask why? Why didnt you listen to me? Why didnt you give us just one day, why didnt i stop you playing pass the parcel with the daughter i suffered for for so long? Why? Why didnt i just ask to be with my daughter, to hold my daughter? I want to ask others what they would have done if it was them laying naked under a sheer sheet bleeding? What if it was you who had to watch their baby being passed from one person to another instead of being snuggled on her mothers chest? I want to scream to the heavens why it was me who spent so long hurting and desiring a child only to have what was suppose to be the happiest day of my life changed into a blurred memory of pain and humiliation? Some days i just want to know why, not just why my family didnt respect what i had requested the weekend before the csection, but why i suffered so much, why it hurt so much, why it had to be so humiliating? Why I felt this way, and why no one saw my pain… Some days i really just want to change the negative emotions associated with that day into happiness and love. Seven months on and all i want to do is get over the pain and move on, maybe even simply just forget….
Though even though i say i want to forget i know in my heart that is a lie. Through all the excitement and through all the anticipation, looking back on the moments and the days before my daughter was born while i never expected it to be the way that it was, while i never expected my birth story to be anything but filled with love, hope and happiness, and while seven months on a part of me is still hurting and a part of me wants to know why, a large part of me also knows that it is these experiences, the pain we suffer through, the hurt we experience that makes us who we are, and it makes our lives just that little bit more worth living. Even though the pain is still very real to me, even though i am still so angry i know that it doesnt matter and that even if i had to experience all the pain, humiliation, nightmares and fears of that day once again – i would do it in a heart beat.
For my daughter, for George – i would do anything – and that is what gets me through, seven months on and until the day i die i know in my heart that i would suffer through anything for her, and only for her.
