1. Lots of muscle and tissue were cut through; that's OK. This I knew.
2. There were things put into my ass. This is not OK. This I did not know. And "put" is the wrong verb here, because the Germans used the word "einhaken." While German is not the language of love, it is the tongue of choice when exerting brute force on my anus. Einhaken means "to hook into." Into my ass. What was hooked? Like animals on the Ark, two sets of fingers, two belonging to the surgeon and two to his assistant. Think about that the next time you ask someone if they've had their thumb up their ass all day. Because apparently you can get a lot done. Why was this done? The report does not say.
Oh, wait. Maybe I'm just reading this wrong. It says Rektusmuskeln. But maybe a Rektus is something in the stomach area. That would make more sense. But wouldn't be as amusing.
3. My uterus was REMOVED from my abdomen. My fallopian tubes (or Adnexe, if you will) were inspected and then everything was put back where it was found. I hope.
4. I lost 1.3 pints of blood. Which makes me imagine a beer glass full of blood.
I don't know why they sent me this, but I can say that it left me feeling grossed out — a term I never use and a state of being that's very difficult for me to achieve. Knowing that the next kid will most likely have to be a c-section unless he or she has a very small head (which is unlikely when you consider the size of Björn huge-ass skull), I suppose I'll have a lot more to think about when I'm laying on the operating table.
Before Harper was born, I was planning on writing a witty recount of her birth, but things turned out to be a bit ... traumatizing, and somehow nothing about it seemed funny anymore. Even though the first 16 hours or so were really not all that bad. While I'm glad to have the knowledge that Baby S. : The Sequel will probably not fit through my pelvis, the idea that I can't give birth normally is ... I don't know. It conjures up a feeling that I can't quite put a label on. Thankfully, the doctors told us to wait at least two years before getting pregnant again, so maybe by then all will be forgotten.
Before Harper, enjoying a nice hospital breakfast.
After Harper, wishing I had taken time to wash and comb out my hair before I went into labor.
8 comments:
Dear god- were you a patient, or a victim?? I can't think of any legitimate reason that they should have been doing that anal hook thing to you- and then to gloat about it afterwards in a letter? Really. Is there an ACLU equivalent there?
Yeah, like I said, I don't know if "Rektusmuskel" means what I think it does... Anyone? Bueller?
Oh, wait, I think I might know! Is it...an enema? That would have been legit.
PS. I forgot to mention that German hospital breakfast food looks really good, and very much like a typical Polish breakfast.
Voodoo Economics?? Holy crap, I'm so glad that I didn't get any report after giving birth! I tell you Brandi, I'm feeling a bit weird at the prospect of having a second baby as well - mainly because I had to have help getting the nearly 10 pounder out with forceps and as the doctor spent an hour stitching me up, he said "We really should have done a caesarian". Oh, and the blood loss! I had to have 4 pints transfused so I must have lost a fair bit, but I am SO GLAD I didn't read about it afterward, you poor thing! Now I'm debating about whether to just persuade the midwives that I need a caesarian with the next one (which no doubt will weigh 20 lbs) or take the gamble of labouring for 15 hours trying to push it out and then have to have the surgery anyway?? I guess it's kind of a lose-lose situation when your body is the item of contention!
Oooh, Rachel...10 pounds?! Having gone through hard labor AND a c-section, I can't tell you which is better or worse. With a c-section, you have a lot of pain afterwards. I wish I could've given birth naturally, especially after being in labor for so long. But, in the end, it doesn't matter what kind of "birthing experience" I had, rather that the baby made it out OK. After Harper was born, I was really upset, because I was sure that I would never be able to bring myself to do THAT again. But we will, because being an only child sucks ass.
And Doobie, it was not an enema. I won't go into details as to why I know this, but let's just say there was some ... uh ... public defecation during labor. Yes, childbirth was, at least for me, really humiliating.
ha... was this a birth recap or a letter to penthouse. Hot stuff Brandi, hot stuff!
Good Lord, Brandi.
Are you trying to scare those of us who haven't yet breeded out of it? Is this posting some sort of green, population control mumbo jumbo?
I swear I'm going to have nightmares.
This breaks my heart for so many reasons. You should check out ICAN, and I'll email info on books and other resources.
Hugs, mama.
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