There I go again. Worrying about what other people will think. Who cares, really? I can rationalize it, if women who were hurt during labor and delivery take something from this or empower themselves or seek help, I've helped someone, right?
But what about me?
I kinda come first here.
anyway, that was the point of my therapist. I shouldn't think about what I'm trying to write, I should just get it out. Help myself. I may not be in a place that I can heal others, because quite frankly I'm not healed myself.
I have moments of clarity where I feel great and at peace with it all, then I want to lash out at people for not appreciating their gifts. Not having to loose babies over and over again. Be disrespected by people who you thought loved or cared about you, be told that you're a shitty mother. . . .Like seriously?! Maybe I should be going postal.
I guess that's where some people loose me. I really don't let people in. It appears that I do, openly, freely, completely but then there are times when I clam up and keep everything to myself. It could be because I'm afraid of judgement of other people or what they might think. . .. or it could be I'm ashamed of myself or something that I did (or didn't do.. .) and it's because of this that I really think people don't get me.
It's all perception.
People assume that I'm hot headed because that is what they 'see.' But I'm trying to over come years of programming where I was told my needs/wants/ concerns were less important then the needs of the many or others.
So it's hard for me to say loudly that I have issue with something because I'm afraid I'll offend/hurt the other person. So we go about conversing until I've tried and tried and tried and tried to gently get my point across then I give up and get blunt. So people assume that I'm 'a blunt hothead.' that I can't be diplomatic or that I'm just running on pure emotion. And that honestly hurts.
I guess it hurts because I guess on some level I hope/wish/expect my friends to really understand/get me. And they, like me, aren't perfect. They don't know what I don't tell them. So I try and over communicate. I repeat myself to make sure that I've got my point across. . . .then I realize I didn't and people still don't understand me.
So . . .maybe I should just fucking give up.
Anyway, this is the blog I'm working on . . .or trying to. Sad thing is, I'm still way too raw from what happened.
Way too raw.
******
Shit. My heart is racing. I feel scared. I shouldn't feel scared, but I do. I've been dragging my feet, I offered to write up how my son was born for a series Guggie Daly is doing . . ..and. . ..I'm terrified.
I'm scared how people will respond. I'm scared of putting myself out there. I'm scared to just write/read the words to describe what they did to me in the hospital.
I've been trying to blog it out, but I had some comments sent to me and I stopped. I forget that people read blogs. And those people aren't all like minded or kind. You see, I didn't have the easiest time staying pregnant. I have been diagnosed with a condition called RPL, Recurrent Pregnancy Loss.
People very often want to help. They want to offer you help and most of the time it's unsolicited. And sadly many of those offering help, put their foot in their mouth.
After being worked up at the infertility clinic, I'll use that term loosely. They did a shitty workup and were patronizing at best. I was put on clomid and quickly ended up pregnant, I miscarried. The OB kept calling me her 'fertile Myrtle' because it was so easy for me to get pregnant. When we lost the heartbeat she encouraged me to have a D&C, but I declined. She even wanted to schedule the D&C before we lost the heartbeat as, 'it didn't look good, and at least with a D&C we could have viable tissue to work with.
When I refused I was sent home with Cytotec. I was told there were NO side effects. I didn't trust her, so I googled. We all know, or should know, what comes up with Cytotec.
After that miscarriage, I'm sorry this is already a book, we got pregnant with twins. We lost twin B, VTS, but twin A was strong. I had a horrible pregnancy. Many ultrasounds. Complications. Panic. Who could blame me? I was afraid to enjoy the pregnancy. I was afraid to get attached just to have it stolen away. By then I had lost six babies, nine now.
At our 20 week ultrasound we were told we had a boy and there was a complication. He had a single artery cord. We had to come back for an Echo and had to have follow ups. During this time I was in love with mymidwives and I was encouraged to change it up so I was familiar with the four of them. Every visit we would see another midwife and the ultrasounds stopped. If they had kept going they would of seen that my water broke and my son stopped growing, but I digress.
My 'due date' came and went. I never had a cervical check. I was proud to be an informed mama. The receptionist kept asking me when they were inducing. I told her I wasn't. I was told they wouldn't let me go past 42 weeks. Who won't let me do what?!
I woke early in the morning on January 26th to strong prodomal labor. I thought . . .THIS IS IT! I couldn't get comfortable. I kept on all fours on the bed and hummed. Hubs called work and told them he probably wasn't coming in. This went on from four am until 7am when I went to the bathroom and found green. It confirmed my fear that the water had broken at some point in time and he had passed his bowels. I was NOT informed that this was a normal part of birth, and called my midwife to check in. She asked me to come in so she could check us out. If she found meconium I would be staying. We packed up the car and off we went.
Let me tell you, the drive to the hospital was FUCKING HELL! I was still in, what I thought was, active labor and every bump, every stop, every turn was torture. WHY didn't I stay home? I asked my husband this three times and he said 'well, we can turn around.'
Should of listened.
We got to the hospital and he unloaded me and I waited for him. I got on a bench and hummed quietly. People came to help me, I told them I was fine! I was just having a baby, I wasn't sick!
We got up to the labor and delivery floor and I told them I was here for my midwife. I was shown a huge birthing suite. The nurse asked me to lay in the bed and before she could say anything else I asked for a birthing ball. My midwife came in and talked to me, timed out the contractions. I was asked again to get into the bed and I refused as I was more comfortable on the birth ball. The nurse sat on the floor and held the EFM on me. She didn't register any contractions, but we had a strong heartbeat. I threw up and I said to myself. . . .'THERE IS NO WAY I'm in transition.' I read things that said 'throw up= transition' well, no I wasn't. But it was THAT that made my Midwife want to check me. I was 0 cm dilated and 40% effaced. That was shattering.
She did a PH test and didn't find fluid. She told us we could go home. I should of.
She asked if I wanted to do the ultrasound
**** Have to stop.
