I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate that I think about it for at least 20 hours a day. I hate that I cry about it everyday. I hate that every time he cries and I can't figure out what he wants my brain starts telling me that its because he knows I didn't love him at first.
I hate that the community midwife on the emergency number didn't seem to understand just how painful and regular my contractions were because maybe if someone had provided support earlier I wouldn't have lost my positivity for hysterical I feel unsafe fear. Contractions may normally slowly get closer together and more intense. Mine didnt and were sporadic, close together and insanely and unbearably painful from an hour in.
I hate that I gave up and insisted on going to the hospital for stronger pain relief .
I hate that when I arrived at the hospital the midwife I got was unsympathetic. I hate that she told me off anytime i ever made noise with "we will have none of that".
I hate that the drugs meant that i didnt have a clue what was happening when they attached a clip to his head to monitor his dropping heart beat that meant i had to stay still flat on my back. I hate that because i did not understand this i kept trying to move around which meant that chilly kept having to be stern with me and at one point raised his voice because he was scared I was going to hurt Eli. I hate that because I did not understand why he was like that i thought he was angry with me for coming to the hospital and therefore spent the rest of my labour feeling alone and sad that he was angry with me. (He wasnt angry, i just didnt understand this).
I hate that he was not passed up to me for a min after birth meaning i couldn't see him. I hate that I was ignored when i kept asking why i couldn't hear him. I hate that after 30 seconds of having him they snatched him out of my hands to help him breathe...without anyone telling me this is what they were doing nor did noone respond to me when I repeatedly asked what was happening. That combined with the fact she rang an alarm and called for a crash cart and a resuscitation emergency team down the speaker which caused loads of people to run in meant that for about 2 mins I honestly thought he was going to die.
I hate that when they did give him back to me they had washed him meaning that because I was still on drugs I didnt feel like he was the same baby they had taken away 5 mins earlier.
I hate that the only skin to skin I got before I was told to shower was me breathing into the gas and air thing as they sewed my 3rd degree tear back up with an anaesthetic that hadnt actually worked.
I hate that when I came out of the shower someone else had dressed him (in the wrong outfit) even though i had really wanted to dress him for the first time and chilly had told them this making me feel even more detached.
I hate that when they then handed him to me to go to the ward I felt nothing for him other then annoyance that he was crying and I was so tired and in pain.
I hate that before I knew it I was in a ward without chilly feeling unable to cope with a baby i felt so detached from .
I hate that after a day in hospital and after 72 hours with only one hour sleep I was told my tears were abnormal when I called the midwife for help because I was getting upset that i wa struggling to latch him on properly. The same midwife advised me to give him breastfeeding. (I didnt)
I hate that i was then bullied into having a 24 hour catheter in because i was not urinating after birth despite the fact I told everyone over and over again that every time i have had this done it has triggered panic attacks and because my pipe is so small I find it incredibly painful. I hate that the midwife refused to remove it after an hour like she had said she would if i felt scared. I hate that I was repeatedly told i was being lazy not getting out of bed with the catheter in despite the fact i kept telling people i couldnt because it caused me so much pain to walk with it in.
I hate that I was then told that due to what they thought was a hospital error I had a HIV positive test on my maternity notes that no one bothered to pick up on so I had to wait 5 hours while they rushed my blood off to be tested to confirm a negative in case i really was positive. That was a very long 5 hours. It was negative. Apparently there is a serious investigation into this.
I hate how sad i now feel. I hate how angry I am. I hate that I am struggling.
I hate that i should even feel like this because if the staff had acted better it wouldn't feel like i shouldn't have gave up. Needing strong pain relief when delivering a 9 pound 7 first baby after only dilating to 4 cm in 22 hours shouldn't feel this bad. But it does because of how they treated me when i was in so much pain and was so scared.
There is more but i have ran out of steam. I dont know where i am going with this. I just needed to get it out somewhere where i wouldnt be told to get over it...or where people wouldnt say things like how i should just be thankful that he is safe..or thankful that i didnt have big complications. It might not seem that bad but I was in such a vulnerable and completely terrified state that actually it feels really bad to me right now.
I havnt read this through because Eli has just woke up so i hope my rambleings make some kind of sense.