PTSD

PTSD is short for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. A condition commonly suffered by the members of our Canadian Forces. However as stated on the Vancouver Birth Trauma support group site, around 30% of women are traumatized during the birth of their child and between 2% and 6% go on to develop PTSD. The cause of PTSD for me is from the trauma that I experienced during the labour, delivery and post delivery of my daughter Hannah. Hannah was born Friday, the 5^th of September 2008. On September 4^th, my first day of Maternity leave and 37 week checkup everything was looking great. I was retaining a lot of water but this had already been happening since my 20^th week of pregnancy. My obstetrician was relieved to hear that I was done working and I was looking forward to watching daytime TV for a few weeks. My husband had started his Vehicle Technician training with the Canadian Forces in Borden Ontario a few days prior. He had already had the permission from his Sergeant to take a few days off when Hannah was born. Everything was in place. The 5^th, 6^th and 7^th were my prenatal classes with my best friends who were my coaches in case Nick didn’t make it in time. All that was needed was for me to get some rest as I had been working 12 to 14 hour days up to this point in preparation for my planned four month maternity leave. 

Well Hannah had a different plan. On the night of the fourth while skyping with my husband Nick my water broke. I was Strep B + so off to the hospital I went. My hospital of choice was a teaching hospital which only takes deliveries after 37 weeks. Since I was exactly 37 weeks I made them keep me. Took the intern who I nicknamed Dougie Howzer what felt like a million internal examinations to determine that yes my water did break. It was time to hook me up to my antibiotics. Since I was so swollen this took three tries and finally a senior nurse successfully inserted the IV. I still have scars from the attempts. At this point my blood pressure was quickly rising. I was barely a centimeter dilated. They decided to let me rest through the night and would induce me in the morning. This was great because Nick wouldn’t be on a flight till the next morning if at all. At 7am they started the induction medications. By lunch time I was 4.5 cm dilated and already in quite a bit of pain. I had an epidural and was told to try and sleep. By 1pm I was in so much pain. The epidural was not working. I was very weak. I told the nurse I was dying. I can’t explain without sound ridiculous but I could see the “bright lights”. I was begging anyone who’d listen for a C-section, the last thing I ever wanted. They instead gave me another epidural. My husband was on his way from Toronto. My poor friends I tell you, I don’t know what I would have done without them. I only wish they could have better advocated for me. Everyone just thought I was being a wimp. 6:28 pm and my blood pressure was 212 over 140 something. I had two epidurals, morphine, demurral, gas, with my husband and my Daddy by my side I started to seizure. My husband in his army greens went where he likely shouldn’t have been and found a doctor. A pic line was inserted into my artery and the Obstetrician said to my husband as they wheeled me away, “We will try and save your wife”. With no where for them to go but the waiting room and wait, Hannah was born at 649 pm perfectly healthy at 6lbs, 2 oz.  Around 8pm is when I started to come through. All I remember is my Daddy by my side and me saying to the doctor, I told you I needed a C-section. My blood pressure was still through the roof so I was on 24 hour monitored care and medication. Nick was not allowed to stay with me nor was Hannah. I couldn’t nurse her because they were not sure the effects of the medication and were waiting for a proper safety analysis to be done. At around 3 am I became very coherent so my wonderful nurse brought me my baby girl. I just held her and cried. Within half an hour I started to crash like a junkie so I had to be sedated. I was woken by Nick and Hannah the next morning. Since I was still considered in critical condition with very high blood pressure and temperature I remained under 24 hour supervised care without being able to eat and drink very little and have very limited visitation until Sunday morning. This day they transferred me to a semi private room with another woman and her baby. I still had a catheter so I was not allowed to be unsupervised with Hannah. Nick had to sign a waiver that he would not leave Hannah alone in my care without him or another family member present. On Saturday evening was I able to start breastfeeding so they were at least letting be a mom in some way, while Nick was there at least. Sunday night my baby went back to the nursery, my husband and family went home and I was left with a stranger and her baby who cried all night long. I joined him. By Monday afternoon they took my catheter out because I am allergic to latex and they didn’t know if it was latex free and they couldn’t find an explanation as to why I still had a high fever. I was excited. It was so nice to shower and be free. I could keep my baby in my room. That was the best night ever. Hannah and I were finally able to bond. I just watched her sleep and held her close. We had so many visitors coming and going I barely got to hold her unless I was nursing her. Tuesday morning came along and I begged Nick to get me out of there. I was tired of being poked and prodded. I was tired of being told how lucky I was and that I should be grateful for the beautiful baby girl I have. If my Obstetrician hadn’t have been on duty that night there’s no way I would have went home. Two young handsome residents had already told me no way until my fever went away and BP lowered more. Well my tears were stronger because I was released. I waved to them as I was leaving the hospital. Going home was no smooth sailing. My husband had till Sunday before had to return to Ontario. I was on strong medication to reduce my blood pressure and increase my iron. Hannah had jaundice so we had daily visits with the pediatrician and health nurse. But the important part, we were home as a family. During these last few days we decided that we would do everything we could to move Hannah and I to Ontario and I would take my one year Maternity leave. By middle of October, Hannah and I were on a plane to our new home.

At this point though I was happy to be with my husband, I was so homesick. I was suffering from Post partum depression. The trauma from the birth was the furthest from my mind. I overcame the PPD as well as two more moves across the country, a retirement from my career, and finally settling in Edmonton as a family. I got to enjoy another year home with my baby girl. And now I’ve got a great part time job that gives me extra spending money but also keeps me at home during the day. Life was good but then it hit. I recently started having anxiety, panic attacks. My husband was scheduled to go to Yellowknife for 8 weeks. Nothing new as he’s gone away before but this time we were going to be leaving Hannah with her new babysitter whom we’d only know for a few weeks. All this bringing up all those emotions I felt that time ago having my baby being cared for by strangers while I lie there unable to move and care for her. I couldn’t sleep. I cried all the time. I was a wreck. My husband has always asked me for more babies to which I’ve always replied no. The thought of not making it the next time around for Hannah makes me sick to my stomach. She’s everything to me. Finally I had a huge meltdown in front of him. He finally had seen what the birth of Hannah did to me. I had been so good at keeping it in. He got the ball rolling and we have now gone to 5 therapy sessions. He was able to stay home from the Yellowknife exercise and will not be going anywhere until the therapist says it’s ok. Right now I feel defeated. I hate to be that wife who doesn’t let their hubby go away. I hate to be that person who needs help. I’m stronger than this. I’ve been through worse in my life and came out fine. I still feel guilty and I feel like therapy is a waste of time and I’m not going to be cured after our 8 free sessions. I’m stilling waiting for the “ah ha” moment. But then I’m trying to sleep and I start to cry thinking of my tiny baby all alone in a big room with bright lights and other babies crying around her and I know that I can’t feel guilty. I can’t feel ashamed. I need help. I’m not strong right now and if I’m not cured in 8 free sessions then suck it up and pay till you are better. It’ll only benefit yourself and everyone around you.

Guest Blog by one of our great mamas!