Caesarean section without anesthetic: “I will never forget this pain”

Caesarean section without anesthesia
“I will never forget this pain”

My little daughter is an absolute dream child. When I was pregnant, a new era began for my boyfriend and me. We were so excited to be parents and I enjoyed every day of my pregnancy. We affectionately called the little person in my belly Blueberry and we could hardly wait for the day our little Blueberry was born. Luckily we didn’t know at that point what was to come. Did I worry about the birth beforehand? To be honest, not a bit. I’m an optimistic person and I didn’t want to drive myself crazy.

Undignified from the start

But this birth was not a walk in the park from the start. I was in excruciating pain for hours and the epidural didn’t bring any relief. After 26 hours of labour, it was with a heavy heart that I asked for a cesarean section. I wanted so badly to experience a natural birth, but I realized I had no strength left. I was relieved when the midwife, who spoke very little to me, finally called in the senior doctor. But she just looked at me sternly between my legs and said she didn’t understand my logic. It is nonsensical to want to spend five more days in the hospital instead of giving birth naturally. At that point, nothing was further from my mind than to discuss logic. The first words of the senior doctor intimidated me immensely. I cried because I didn’t feel heard. I had been trying to give birth to my child the normal way for so long, but I was exhausted.

I couldn’t defend myself against the Kristeller maneuver

Instead of talking to me and listening to me, the attending physician suddenly lay on top of me and used all her weight to push my stomach down when I was supposed to be pushing too. I knew very well what she was doing. We had talked about this practice, the Kristeller manoeuvre, in antenatal classes. Although we were told that this shouldn’t really be used anymore, I didn’t have the strength to fight back. I was just terrified that the contraction drip would be set any higher. Up until that point, I had only known this feeling of surrender from nightmares. After finally realizing that my child would not make it out of the birth canal, I felt nothing but relief. I was pushed into the operating room shaking all over. My friend wasn’t allowed to come with me at first. “We’ll get the little one out in my shift,” I heard the senior doctor’s voice muffled from afar. I still didn’t know what this intention would do.

I felt the cut

Attempting to insert the large surgical catheter caused me excruciating pain. I kept telling the doctor that, clenching my legs. She forcibly pulled them apart again and inserted the catheter. The anesthetist injected the epidural, then I was pinched on the upper part of my stomach. I immediately said it hurt me. “Wait a minute,” I heard the voice of the anesthesiologist. But the next moment I felt the cut in the lower part of my stomach. I was completely at the mercy of the pain and fear and could not defend myself. In a panic, I kept shouting that I felt everything, but the senior doctor didn’t stop. Her only reaction: “The stomach is already open.” I could no longer see properly, I felt dizzy from the pain, at some point I heard my daughter scream from afar. A scream I couldn’t manage myself.

i thought i died

Then I must have been injected with a drug because my window started to blur. My eyes rolled up and I had to close them. The voices around me became increasingly loud roars. I saw bright patterns and colors and thought of my daughter, whom I had just heard screaming. I really wanted to know what happened, where my daughter was and where my boyfriend was. My thoughts were riddled with panic and it was only fear that I felt. My body feeling dissolved, I no longer had any physical boundaries, could no longer think and flew through different levels, no longer knew who I am, where I am, what I am. Everything was just a flow of colors and sounds. I was sure: I am dead.
The first thing I saw again was the anesthetist looking at me overhead. I asked him what that was and he just said, “Yeah, that was awesome, wasn’t it?”

A part of me was ripped out of me that day

Hours later, when I finally held my daughter in my arms, I thought I was holding myself. It was like they ripped me out of myself. There wasn’t a feeling of happiness, rather I was terrified to have this child in my arms that was supposed to be mine! It also took a few more hours before I could see clearly again with both of my eyes and had completely arrived back in reality. I could not rejoice that this dearly desired child was now in the world. I did as the sisters told me, but my feelings were not those of a happy mother.

Over and yet not over

Today I love my daughter with all my heart. She is now one year old and we have a wonderful bond. Despite this, I have nightmares night after night. Will my daughter ever have a sibling? I dont know. Even though the caesarean scar has long since faded, the wounds in my soul are far from healed.

barbara