Panic stations. Baby’s heart-rate is dropping. Nurses and Docs are running around, inserting skull caps on the baby, taking my blood pressure. They advise us that we are going to have to go in for surgery.
Daddy gets taken away to get suited up. I am wheeled through to an operating room. I am scared shitless. He comes in dressed up, nurses are everywhere, and they tell me they are going to start. 5 mins later I feel pain, bad paid, like a searing, I say that I can feel it. No one seems to hear me, I say it again. I look at him and I’m panicking. They give me more painkillers and they try again. I can still feel it. They say they are going to give me a general, and he leaves the room. It all goes black.
Pingback: PTSD – Being a mother after the birth