On Friday I had a baby! This was a pretty big deal so I'd like to get down my impressions before they're overwhelmed by other Big Feels. Or, y'know, distractions generally
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It's great that you've done this write-up here too, because I expect you'll enjoy reading it back in months to come, when some of the edges of your memory of the procedure and the overall experience might have dulled down a bit. I had a caesarean too, but under slightly different circumstances: I'd been admitted to hospital on the Thursday night after my waters had broken just too early for it to be considered OK to send me home again (36+4 - so just 3 days short of the magic 37) - although when the baby finally came out, one of the surgeons did actually pop round the screen to say "I think they might have got the dates wrong", as Charles was bigger than they were expecting. Actually, I did wonder if this could have made a difference to my birth experience, because they'd started to induce me 28 hours or so after my being admitted, and maybe that might not have had to happen if I'd been officially a week or so further along? Anyway, I remember the caesarean as being an incredibly intense experience. I'd already had a "walking" epidural (so, pain dulled, needing top-up on request, but still being able to feel and move my legs) about 13 hours or so into the induction, and so the needle already in place, they'd just had to top it up for the serious surgical business. I think the screen going up is probably just standard from the off so that your partner, curious though he might be, doesn't have to see you kind of disembowelled (OK, so why do it so early? Probably just to be on the safe side - pah!) But Stef did try to look over the screen towards the start of the operation and one of the surgical team leapt over and forcibly pushed him down again. I think that's probably a good thing on balance. And probably pretty common in terms of natural human curiosity.
As I was being wheeled into theatre after my day or so's induced labour, the nice midwife Pooja - who had been with me at the start of my induction and then whom I'd welcomed back 12 hours later for her next shift after she'd gone home and had a good rest - asked me how I felt about it, in a really nice, sympathetic manner, knowing that most women feel a bit disappointed if they have to have a C-Section, I remember saying "All I'm thinking right now is thank goodness for modern medical science".
Hurrah to that. And hurrah to you and your brand new little one. Welcome to the world! :o)
This is fascinating, thanks for sharing. I definitely think that having a C-section must be better if you've avoided the drawn-out labour beforehand cos you're less worn out & so maybe recuperate afterwards quicker. As with you, my feeling was also YAY SCIENCE; what a relief to have the option.
Do you mind if I ask what your recovery period was like? How long were you inhospitable afterwards? I hope it wasn't too miserable.
I'm finding the breast-feeding business MUCH more stressful & disappointing than anything birth-related :-/
Well, My operation had finished by 10pm on the Saturday, and then I had overnight to sleep in the recovery room before I was moved to a ward. The next day, I was lucky in the sense that although it was painful, I could actually walk around, unlike the other two women next to and across from me on the ward. The downside of that was that I was unofficially considered walking wounded, which meant that I was expected to get by without much help. Also, male partners were not permitted to stay on the ward overnight, and I was under strict instructions to feed my newborn every three hours. So I had to do it all myself. The advice was to try to sleep when your baby does, and while that might be good advice for being at home, in hospital it was impossible because the other babies rooming in with their mothers were usually screaming (or at least one of them was - of course, it only takes one) while mine was asleep. By the Tuesday morning I was in bad shape, therefore. I broke down in tears in bed with Stef by my side, and four of the nurses looked at me incredulously. The head one said something like "Come on now - do you want *him* [pointing at Stef] to have to look after *you* as well as the baby?" I was enraged and exhausted, but I knew I would be OK because I was expecting to get out that day.
Unfortunately, in the middle of the afternoon they diagnosed Charles with jaundice, and decided they couldn't let him out until that was sorted. They put him on a light box, and at the time I had no idea just how long I was going to be forced to stay in the hospital. Even so, utterly sleep-deprived, I pulled the epilepsy card and demanded a private room. After some resistance, I got one, which meant that over the next few days, Stef could come and be with me overnight and I could get four hours sleep or so in a row during the night. Stef told me he'd heard some of the nurses bitching about me on the ward, asking why I should get such special treatment. Being told that I was prone to very occasional epileptic fits triggered by sleep deprivation didn't seem to cut the mustard too much, and they obviously thought I was a little madam. Fuck 'em.
There were a couple of lovely nurses, though - beautifully caring ones who took the time to actually give a shit. I want to give credit to them. But generally I couldn't wait to get out of the fucking place. Anyway, there's only so much soggy overcooked broccoli one can take for lunch, day after day. But I suppose the hardest thing for me - and here I expect you will sympathise, being a fellow mouthy woman (that's meant as a compliment, btw - I hope you take it as such) - was that it was the first time in my life where I felt I simply didn't have my usual "nuclear option" i.e. that of saying "Fuck you all - I'm off home". Because maybe then that would have got us reported to Social Services and we wouldn't have been properly free. And most importantly of course, because maybe the jaundice might have got really serious, and I'd never have been able to forgive myself (the scary info sheet on jaundice they gave me listed brain damage as a rare complication). Unlikely, but possible. And no-one else could take my place. I was trapped. In a way I've never felt before.
It took ages before they were finally happy to let Charles go. We eventually got out the following Saturday, a week after he was born. We walked home from the hospital and - because Charles was already partly on formula milk because of medical advice (low blood sugar at the start - problem sorted quickly, but breastfeeding never really took off because of that), it enabled Stef to take him into his room for the night, with me in my own separate room having my first glorious full night's sleep for months. Hurrah for that. and hurrah, hurrah, hurrah for Stef. Wonderful man.
The caesarean scar healed quickly - by the time I got out of hospital I was pretty much all recovered. About a month later I had a slight scare when the scar opened up again a bit for a few days. It got to about a centimetre and a half along the line, and I made an appointment with my GP. I called on the Friday and got an appointment for the Tuesday, but I kept putting sheets of cotton wool on the area (the large flat sheets rather than the balls) to keep the area dry, and changing them a few times daily. Which meant that by the time I went to see the doc on the Tuesday, it had completely healed up. Not had any problems with it since. The only lasting effect has been that I still don't have any feeling on a big patch of skin on the swell on my tummy. But in the scheme of things, I think that's pretty minor. I occasionally show the scar to younger female friends who are curious, and to a woman they are astonished by how small it is. So don't worry on that score. And remember the cotton wool trick for if the scar opening thing happens to you. Don't be too freaked out; it's perfectly easily fixed.
And as to your other point - no-one ever really tells you how fucking impossible breastfeeding is at the start. The floppy head, the uncertainty about whether your baby is actually getting enough milk because, after all, you can't see how much they're drinking etc. etc. Also, in my case, I have an awkwardly large oval-shaped right nipple which was too big for Charles to suckle from. It's not so weird that a lover would notice (unless they'd been warned and were particularly looking for it), but it was enough to stymie my baby and led to the ridiculous situation where he only suckled from my left and I had to try to pump it all out of my right. I managed six weeks but didn't have enough milk to viably continue. And you know what? Charles is still a healthy, happy little toddler. So maybe he might have a marginally higher risk of obesity as an adult? Hey well - let them come back to me when they actually prove that for certain. And even then I'll laugh at the ridiculous fascism of it. I live in London - the sports facilities and opportunities for fitness are great. The food is plentiful and healthy. The opportunities for fatal or disabling childhood disease to take hold are few. The outlook for both Charles and your little one is fantastic.
Christ, that sounds both familiar & terrible. I was actually quite scared of ending up in that situation, so I told my midwife straight out that my anxiety & Aspergers meant to I wouldn't be able to cope with either a) a mixed ward or b) being alone at night, so she arranged with the ward manager for me to get my own room & A stayed there on a fold-out mattress. It was still so dreadful I was crying by day 3, and I really really really don't cry much - maybe twice a year, if that? A did loads of the fetching & carrying & feeding & child-soothing. I have literally no idea how I'd have coped alone.
If you resisted demanding your own room for several days, you must have nerves of steel! It's utterly appalling that medical staff were bitching about you getting appropriate support for a potentially serious disability - still, I guess we all have more of this to look forward too, as the NHS is systematically destroyed *weeps* There was a bit of an unfortunate irony in my situation, in that I got Special Treatment (own room, partner) bcos of being an official Crazy Person (well, crazy + a bit autistic), but being a Crazy Person also kept me in hospital an extra night, cos I needed to be seen by the clinical psychologist to be discharged but she was too busy to get to me on day 3 so I had to wait overnight to see her. The subsequent 11 hour release delay was just bureaucracy!
Stef sounds as if he was brilliant. A. was frankly amazing IMO. I genuinely don't never stand the apparent level of antagonism & dismissiveness a lot of maternity settings seem to have towards male partners/parents/carers, and it pisses me right off. I really don't have a clue how non-male partners are treated in those settings, but there does generally seem to be a weird attitude to support people (eg not being supposed to want both my mother AND my co-parent at the birth!). But certainly with men, there seems to be an element if "she wouldn't be is hospital now if it weren't for you..."
Incidentally, thanks for this & your previous breast/bottle postings. Just trying to find out if i'll even be able to breastfeed & the whole business is quite frustrating, to say the least. I have barely any breast milk at present so it's a bit of a gamble at best. Formula is frustrating in its own ways but I was sick of the boob obsessives even before I gave birth!
It's great that you've done this write-up here too, because I expect you'll enjoy reading it back in months to come, when some of the edges of your memory of the procedure and the overall experience might have dulled down a bit. I had a caesarean too, but under slightly different circumstances: I'd been admitted to hospital on the Thursday night after my waters had broken just too early for it to be considered OK to send me home again (36+4 - so just 3 days short of the magic 37) - although when the baby finally came out, one of the surgeons did actually pop round the screen to say "I think they might have got the dates wrong", as Charles was bigger than they were expecting. Actually, I did wonder if this could have made a difference to my birth experience, because they'd started to induce me 28 hours or so after my being admitted, and maybe that might not have had to happen if I'd been officially a week or so further along? Anyway, I remember the caesarean as being an incredibly intense experience. I'd already had a "walking" epidural (so, pain dulled, needing top-up on request, but still being able to feel and move my legs) about 13 hours or so into the induction, and so the needle already in place, they'd just had to top it up for the serious surgical business. I think the screen going up is probably just standard from the off so that your partner, curious though he might be, doesn't have to see you kind of disembowelled (OK, so why do it so early? Probably just to be on the safe side - pah!) But Stef did try to look over the screen towards the start of the operation and one of the surgical team leapt over and forcibly pushed him down again. I think that's probably a good thing on balance. And probably pretty common in terms of natural human curiosity.
As I was being wheeled into theatre after my day or so's induced labour, the nice midwife Pooja - who had been with me at the start of my induction and then whom I'd welcomed back 12 hours later for her next shift after she'd gone home and had a good rest - asked me how I felt about it, in a really nice, sympathetic manner, knowing that most women feel a bit disappointed if they have to have a C-Section, I remember saying "All I'm thinking right now is thank goodness for modern medical science".
Hurrah to that. And hurrah to you and your brand new little one. Welcome to the world! :o)
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Do you mind if I ask what your recovery period was like? How long were you inhospitable afterwards? I hope it wasn't too miserable.
I'm finding the breast-feeding business MUCH more stressful & disappointing than anything birth-related :-/
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Unfortunately, in the middle of the afternoon they diagnosed Charles with jaundice, and decided they couldn't let him out until that was sorted. They put him on a light box, and at the time I had no idea just how long I was going to be forced to stay in the hospital. Even so, utterly sleep-deprived, I pulled the epilepsy card and demanded a private room. After some resistance, I got one, which meant that over the next few days, Stef could come and be with me overnight and I could get four hours sleep or so in a row during the night. Stef told me he'd heard some of the nurses bitching about me on the ward, asking why I should get such special treatment. Being told that I was prone to very occasional epileptic fits triggered by sleep deprivation didn't seem to cut the mustard too much, and they obviously thought I was a little madam. Fuck 'em.
There were a couple of lovely nurses, though - beautifully caring ones who took the time to actually give a shit. I want to give credit to them. But generally I couldn't wait to get out of the fucking place. Anyway, there's only so much soggy overcooked broccoli one can take for lunch, day after day. But I suppose the hardest thing for me - and here I expect you will sympathise, being a fellow mouthy woman (that's meant as a compliment, btw - I hope you take it as such) - was that it was the first time in my life where I felt I simply didn't have my usual "nuclear option" i.e. that of saying "Fuck you all - I'm off home". Because maybe then that would have got us reported to Social Services and we wouldn't have been properly free. And most importantly of course, because maybe the jaundice might have got really serious, and I'd never have been able to forgive myself (the scary info sheet on jaundice they gave me listed brain damage as a rare complication). Unlikely, but possible. And no-one else could take my place. I was trapped. In a way I've never felt before.
It took ages before they were finally happy to let Charles go. We eventually got out the following Saturday, a week after he was born. We walked home from the hospital and - because Charles was already partly on formula milk because of medical advice (low blood sugar at the start - problem sorted quickly, but breastfeeding never really took off because of that), it enabled Stef to take him into his room for the night, with me in my own separate room having my first glorious full night's sleep for months. Hurrah for that. and hurrah, hurrah, hurrah for Stef. Wonderful man.
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And as to your other point - no-one ever really tells you how fucking impossible breastfeeding is at the start. The floppy head, the uncertainty about whether your baby is actually getting enough milk because, after all, you can't see how much they're drinking etc. etc. Also, in my case, I have an awkwardly large oval-shaped right nipple which was too big for Charles to suckle from. It's not so weird that a lover would notice (unless they'd been warned and were particularly looking for it), but it was enough to stymie my baby and led to the ridiculous situation where he only suckled from my left and I had to try to pump it all out of my right. I managed six weeks but didn't have enough milk to viably continue. And you know what? Charles is still a healthy, happy little toddler. So maybe he might have a marginally higher risk of obesity as an adult? Hey well - let them come back to me when they actually prove that for certain. And even then I'll laugh at the ridiculous fascism of it. I live in London - the sports facilities and opportunities for fitness are great. The food is plentiful and healthy. The opportunities for fatal or disabling childhood disease to take hold are few. The outlook for both Charles and your little one is fantastic.
Best of luck to all of you. xx :o)
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If you resisted demanding your own room for several days, you must have nerves of steel! It's utterly appalling that medical staff were bitching about you getting appropriate support for a potentially serious disability - still, I guess we all have more of this to look forward too, as the NHS is systematically destroyed *weeps* There was a bit of an unfortunate irony in my situation, in that I got Special Treatment (own room, partner) bcos of being an official Crazy Person (well, crazy + a bit autistic), but being a Crazy Person also kept me in hospital an extra night, cos I needed to be seen by the clinical psychologist to be discharged but she was too busy to get to me on day 3 so I had to wait overnight to see her. The subsequent 11 hour release delay was just bureaucracy!
Stef sounds as if he was brilliant. A. was frankly amazing IMO. I genuinely don't never stand the apparent level of antagonism & dismissiveness a lot of maternity settings seem to have towards male partners/parents/carers, and it pisses me right off. I really don't have a clue how non-male partners are treated in those settings, but there does generally seem to be a weird attitude to support people (eg not being supposed to want both my mother AND my co-parent at the birth!). But certainly with men, there seems to be an element if "she wouldn't be is hospital now if it weren't for you..."
Incidentally, thanks for this & your previous breast/bottle postings. Just trying to find out if i'll even be able to breastfeed & the whole business is quite frustrating, to say the least. I have barely any breast milk at present so it's a bit of a gamble at best. Formula is frustrating in its own ways but I was sick of the boob obsessives even before I gave birth!
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