It was brought to my attention recently that I have not been doing the best job of explaining why I am so upset about the c-section. I knew that it was a traumatic event for me, but I didn't figure out exactly why I was so traumatized until the other day. I knew all of the things that happened were incredibly upsetting, but I was finally able to pinpoint the real problem.
The issue is that as soon as it was determined I needed a c-section, Matthew was immediately pulled away and everyone else stopped talking to me. Not a single nurse, my midwife, or either of the doctors said a word to me to explain what was happening, why there wasn't time for me to get a spinal or epidural and instead had to undergo general anesthesia, what the procedure would entail, when I would wake up, or why I couldn't talk to my husband or have him in the room. Everything happened really fast and I was honestly a little in shock and it didn't occur to me to ask those questions. I was clearly terrified though, and definitely upset. I kept asking over and over again to talk to Matt and the only response I got was that he wasn't in the room. I finally gave up and just asked them to tell him I loved him - and all I got was a, "yes, I will tell him". It was more like I had been a petulant child begging my mom for something and her finally giving in than a compassionate response.
I felt dehumanized. I was made to feel like I was a vessel carrying the child who needed to be cut out. I was made to feel like the only person who mattered in that room was my child - that there was no sense in caring for me. I am not resentful toward Lily for any of this. I am resentful toward and angry at the providers whose job it is to treat all of their patients in a compassionate manner. Time may have been of the essence, but that is no excuse to neglect the patient on the table who would actually have emotions and memories of the experience.
Apparently I was so insignificant that it wasn't even necessary for one of the nurses to tell me that she was performing an incredibly painful procedure until I screamed out in agony and asked her what exactly she was doing. After giving up hope of talking to my husband before an unplanned, unexpected, and major surgery, I was told, "you can't cry because I need a clear airway". No apologies from the nurse for not telling me about the procedure and no empathy from the anesthesiologist. It would not have taken more than five or ten seconds for the anesthesiologist to say that she knew it was a scary situation but it was important for her to have a clear airway in order to perform the operation as quickly as possible. It would not have taken any more time than necessary for the nurse to tell me she was about to perform a procedure that was painful so that I could have a second or two to prepare for it.
I had sheets taped to me and was covered in antiseptic and had someone strap my hands down, and no one ever said a word to me about what they were doing or why they were doing it. Not a single person took even a second of their time to care for me. And that's why I'm mad, and that's why I'm upset and that's why I'm traumatized. And that is why when you tell me I should be happy that I had the c-section, I get upset and hurt and angry. It is because I am flooded with thoughts and feelings of the most degrading, heartbreaking, and scariest moments of my life and I'm expected to appreciate that all of it happened to me.
I am glad that I have Lily. I could not love her more if I tried - she and her daddy are the two most important people in my life. But I will never be grateful that the c-section happened the way that it did. Maybe someday I will be able to separate the emotions of the c-section from the way that it was handled. I am working toward that goal fervently, but for now I just need more time.
