This memory came up on my Facebook feed today and it brought everything back to me. They say that when you’ve suffered sepsis it has a life long effect on you. I was even offered counselling by my midwife because I’d had such a traumatic time, but being the stubborn, ‘I’m ok’ kind of woman I am I refused it. I was confused at the time as to why she thought I might need it, after all I was alive and had a healthy baby. Even now, 4 years on, I look back on that time and it makes me feel emotional, although when I was living through it I was completely oblivious and wondered why my family around me looked so scared and upset. I didn’t really consider for one moment that I was in a life threatening situation, even when I was on HDU attached to 3 drips, oxygen, a catheter and had my legs strapped into these air bags so I couldn’t move. I now realise they were concerned about organ failure.
It’s never been confirmed, but sometimes you just know, I think my sepsis (which was caused by a 6cm collection of blood in my uterus) was down to my failed induction. I knew something wasn’t right, I was having 12 minute contractions, with no let up and actually contemplated throwing myself out of the window because I couldn’t cope. I’ve since found out I had hyper-stimulation of the womb. I only assume they didn’t tell me at the time because they didn’t want to worry me. Labour didn’t progress and I had an emergency c-section. Rosie was here and was healthy! I was on antibiotics and had a temperature as soon as I left theatre, again, I just thought this was normal and everyone had the same treatment afterwards. When I got up the next day I felt like I’d been hit by a bus, every inch of my body ached and I was struggling to walk. Again, I thought this was normal, after all I’d had major surgery, so I just didn’t say anything.
That evening, Rich had gone home and I was cuddling Rosie, all of a sudden I felt so cold and started shivering uncontrollably with Rosie in my arms. I have never experienced anything like this is my life. It was probably the scariest thing that has ever happened to me. I knew then I needed help. When the midwife came my temperature was 41 degrees. I felt freezing and it was like torture that they had a fan on me and wouldn’t let me cover myself up to get warm. They put me on a paracetamol drip and it subsided, still not knowing I was really quite poorly. My best friend came to see me and luckily she is a nurse. As she walked in I had another fit. She took one look at me, took my pulse and called for help. When the midwife came my friend said ‘she’s septic, she needs urgent help’. It was then I was whisked off to HDU.
I think at this point I was also a bit delirious because I have really vivid memories of things that happened at that time and nobody has a clue what I’m talking about. Rich says he was stood in the corner of HDU holding our tiny Rosie, looking at the crowd of doctors and nurses around me and was terrified I was going to die and leave him to bring Rosie up alone. This breaks my heart, I had no idea.
I remember having loads of texts and missed calls on my phone but not being able to respond to them and remember my mum crying. Again, I was completely oblivious. I also remember it being really late at night and Rosie was crying, I opened my eyes to see a lovely midwife sat next to me holding my hand in one hand and holding Rosie in her spare arm. I wasn’t even able to care for my newborn baby. I said I need to feed her and then passed out. I’d given up on breast feeding by this point but at times I was awake I would sit expressing breast milk for Rosie and actually that was something that I could focus on and something I could still do. The feeling of accomplishment and pride that I could do this for my baby gave me so much motivation and determination. Rosie and I were in hospital for two weeks. By the point we were allowed home I think I was going a bit crazy. I hadn’t been allowed off the ward for two weeks, because I wasn’t allowed to remove Rosie. I felt like Rosie’s first two weeks had been taken away from her. I longed for her to hear the birds sign, know what fresh air felt like, smelt like and feel the sunshine on her face. This moment in the hospital carpark will stay with me forever.
I went home with 4 weeks worth of antibiotics and an irrational fear of what my temperature was, terrified of it going up. I had a digital thermometer with me at all times for a long time after I got home. I then got a wound infection so in all was on antibiotics for 2 months and also ended up with a vitamin d deficiency, which took 3 months to right itself. But all the time all I could think was how lucky I was to have a healthy baby.
Sepsis has had a life long effect on me in that I am frightened of it. Sepsis awareness is huge now, I hadn’t even heard of it before I got it. I live in fear that when my children have a high temperature, or anyone in my family that it’s sepsis. I find myself reading stories about how easy you can develop sepsis and stories of people who have life changing disabilities caused by sepsis, which again makes me count myself very lucky. I’ve also learned how amazing the human body is when dealing with a life or death situation. I’m sure when I was living it there was a hormone released in my body keeping me calm and unafraid of the possible outcomes as at that time none of them even crossed my mind. The thought I could die was not even something I considered. This fascinates me!
I have learned I am not one to complain and that I need to listen to what my body is telling me. Really I knew something wasn’t right, but I’d had a c-section and didn’t want to seem weak by vocalising how I was feeling. I already felt I had failed at labour and child birth and how weak I was for not coping with contractions. I do think this is something the midwives could have helped me with. If I’d have known what was happening during induction, I wouldn’t have felt so incapable and so rubbish so maybe would have said something. Midwives see it all and hear it all and sometimes I think because of this, something that is normal to them is actually completely terrifying to the ladies they are looking after and they don’t realise or have forgotten this. It’s only since having Lydia, having a c-section again and getting out of bed and feeling like I could have danced down the corridor in comparison to how I felt after Rosie that I realised how not normal things were the first time round.
I’m certain I will be telling this story for the rest of my life, it will stay with me forever. Everybody will always remember their birth stories, it’s one of, if not the most important times and I have come to terms with the fact that mine isn’t a heart warning or romantic story, but it is one of survival and the arrival of our precious and most importantly healthy baby girl.
Comments