an honest account of the immediate postpartum
After all the reading in my pregnancy and all the hypnobirthing preparations I had made for the birth, which turned out to be completely WONDERFUL… (you can read about that here) - I was so surprised at how AWFUL I felt in the immediate days following. In retrospect I felt like I was completely prepared for the birth but completely unprepared for what followed. I wish somebody had told me how challenging breastfeeding could be, the range of emotions I would likely experience and all the things I might expect in the weeks following as my body recovered from the amazing thing it had just achieved. This is what I hope to accomplish by sharing this post about my own experience: a heartfelt account of how tough it can seem and a promise that it does get better.
I’d just like to give a preliminary warning that for anybody not giving birth - perhaps don’t read this blogpost as it is pretty graphic and probably TMI.
Our experience of hospital
Marlow Autumn was not born at home (as planned), but in theatre at 10.44pm on a Monday night. When they wheeled me through to recovery, they told me that I would be taken to the postnatal ward and Ryan would have to go home. This was completely astounding to me because we had both just become parents for the first time, I didn’t want to be separated and neither of us should have to leave this little person we were just getting to know. Despite the fact that I was still unable to move my legs after the spinal, I politely pointed out that if they didn’t find a side room for Ryan then I wouldn’t stay in hospital (an empty threat because I couldn’t actually mobilise) … luckily the midwife took pity on us and managed to snag a private room so we could stay together. She warned us though that if somebody was admitted who needed the room more than we did, I would have to be transferred to the ward and Ryan would have to leave.
Our first night in hospital was fine because for the most part we were left to our own devices, I was still numb from the spinal so I couldn’t feel any pain, and although we were both exhausted we were high on adrenaline and too excited to contemplate sleep. After a while of ogling at our new baby - we decided we would take it in turns to sleep an hour each. So Ryan lay on the floor mattress and I lay in the bed having skin to skin. We both managed to sleep an hour or so that night, and when morning came Ryan left the hospital to nip home, pick up some bits that we had forgotten to pack, and tidy up the house as we had left mid-labour. As soon as the feeling returned in my legs, the staff encouraged me to take a shower. I was left to my own devices, and this was when everything really started to hit me. I felt like I couldn’t stand up straight, I was aching (particularly in my shoulders from leaning on Ryan for hours in labour), and down below was really starting to hurt. I felt nauseated because I was tired, and very delicate. The amount of blood that you lose after delivering a baby is pretty shocking if you aren’t aware that is going to happen. It’s much much more than the heaviest period I have ever had and it continues for days-weeks (lessening each day). I bled all over the floor in the bathroom and all over the towels when I was drying myself (it looked a little like a murder scene). I was so relieved when Ryan returned. Both drained, and with the baby asleep we tried to get some more rest.
Unfortunately sleep in hospital was impossible because every time I would drop off somebody would come in. We had people checking the cannula and my urine output (they had left my catheter in which isn’t routine), cleaners knocked on the door to ask if they could empty the bins, Bounty representatives dropped by to offer free products, Bambi’s visited to check how breastfeeding was going, a paediatrician came in to check over the baby, the hearing team came by twice to test the baby’s hearing, the trolley lady to order meals for the day and offer tea, the midwives checked in, and we were visited by our community midwife. It felt like the room had a revolving door and every time someone left someone else came back through. I was EXHAUSTED by this point. We were struggling to wake Marlow, encourage her to feed and master the latch, yet we were receiving lots of pressure from staff to nurse her two hourly. To make matters worse around noon, our midwife told us we would have to gather our things together and move because they needed the room.
The postnatal ward was another kettle of fish, and the place I hit crisis point. At this point I think it is important to note that everyone’s experience is unique and I truly believe the NHS is fantastic, with staff doing a wonderful job. Unfortunately for me, I felt my needs weren’t met - particularly the desire I had for a nurturing experience rather than clinical ‘patient’ care. I was positioned right beside the staff’s station in a bay with five other women. It was here that I was told, they would take out the catheter and I would then have 6 hours to pass 300ml in one go. If I ‘failed’ (and those were the words used) I would be required to have bladder scans and it would delay my discharge. I spent the next few hours with intensifying pain (as I wasn’t being administered regular analgesia), struggling to feed my baby and anxiously worrying about emptying my bladder. I drank plenty of water and finally emptied it at around 6 hours later - over 800ml in one go!
Having passed the test - we wanted to go home. It was then I was told a ‘HemoCue’ had shown my haemoglobin levels were low enough to warrant a blood transfusion and they wanted to confirm with a proper blood test. We couldn’t be safely discharged without the results and Ryan couldn’t stay after 8pm. They suggested that he go home and get some sleep, and I could make the most of being in hospital with the staff around to help me take care of the baby. This may sound ideal but the reality of the situation was far from it. With tears from me, Ryan left the hospital under the premise that when the blood result came back, if I didn’t require a transfusion he could return and we could be moved to a side room on a non-medical ward in the hospital. After he left, I was on my own in a bay - I could barely turn over in bed I was so sore following the episiotomy. Marlow was very mucusy and kept making choking noises in the cot; each time I would get up, lift her and help her bring it up. I buzzed the emergency buzzer and after 20 minutes a midwife answered and told me, ‘she won’t choke, she will naturally turn her head to the side don’t worry.’ This may very well be true - I don’t know. What I do know is that I was a first time mother, in lots of pain, tired, alone and anxious that my baby was going to choke. The midwife left despite the fact she could clearly see my distress.
Having already phoned Ryan once, I let him get some much needed sleep and turned to my parents. I burst into tears on the phone. They validated how I felt and made me feel a little better, but it didn’t change the situation. I tried to sleep and couldn’t. It was approaching midnight and there was a spotlight turned on max right above my bed, the radio was playing loudly right outside the curtain, the other women were speaking on phone calls and feeding their crying babies, I felt so hot and sore and I couldn't possibly sleep in this environment. I requested to have the lights switched off twice before they were finally dimmed at half past midnight.
I felt as though I had been run over by a truck. I pressed the buzzer again and the midwife who had been at my delivery was back on shift. She recognised my distress and suggested that she take the baby for ten minutes so I could sleep. I said yes, but I wasn’t prepared for the feeling of utter failure as she wheeled out the cot. I sat in bed and sobbed because the 'ten minutes’ felt like no time at all to sleep or recuperate my energy and I felt shattered and overwhelmed. She came back after ten minutes and asked could she give the baby a little cup of formula because she felt Marlow was hungry. She said it wouldn't interfere with establishing breastfeeding and that it would probably stretch the baby's tummy, and allow her to vomit up lots of the mucus which she felt was preventing her from breastfeeding. I accepted and then fell asleep, utterly exhausted.
When she woke me half an hour later, I was so disorientated I shouted out in shock making us both jump! She told me my haemoglobin level was just above that requiring transfusion so I could be moved to the Jeffcoate ward and Ryan could come back in. It was around 1am. I phoned Ryan to let him know.
They wheeled me round to the new ward and the moment Ryan arrived I burst into tears. He was wonderful - he said “Right. I've had a few hours sleep, so you close your eyes, I'll take care of the baby and I'll wake you when she is due her next feed.” It was just what I needed and when I woke with him beside me at 4am I had a new energy to take on the day ahead. It makes no sense to me whatsoever that parents would be separated after delivering a baby, and is a horrible failing of the hospital policy in my opinion. Labouring women are not patients, they are service users who should retain the choice to have their partners close by for support should they wish. I know I would not have hit a crisis point with him by my side and it completely bittered that first day of motherhood for me.
Our final day in hospital was better, but again I struggled to get on top of my pain control, I was petrified of opening my bowels, and felt dizzy when I got up too quickly. Ryan changed all the nappies and became a kimono-bodysuit pro in one day. We expressed a desire to go home again and were met with negativity from the midwife in charge. She told me I would have little support to help me should I struggle to breastfeed in the community and why not just stay another night. Although Ryan would have been able to spend the night this time, we wanted our own bed and calm so we could get some proper shut eye!
Marlow was unfortunately fairly orange by this point and needed a second test to check her bilirubin levels. It's normal for babies to become jaundiced in those early days following birth, but if the baby becomes lethargic and difficult to rouse for feeds (which she was) - it’s important to check the levels of bilirubin in their blood stream as high levels can cause brain damage. They sent her blood to Alder Hey (the local children's hospital) around lunchtime and told us we couldn't be discharged until she had the all clear. It took all day before we were told the result was just above treatment level and that we could finally leave once our discharge letter was completed. As the staff were just about to change shifts this caused another delay and we didn't end up leaving the hospital until nearly midnight.
Leave we did though, and BOY! it felt good. I won’t ever forget how perfect it felt to nest in with the baby in our bedroom, and wake up the following morning, refreshed after a wonderful nights sleep as a family of three. The challenges at home were easier to bear, we had breastfeeding support from the community Bambi’s team, and frequent visits from the wonderful community midwifery team. The greatest stress came from having family to stay and visitors to entertain, but all in all we felt so much more able to cope in our own space. It took around 6 weeks before I fully felt physically normal again, and the first two months were filled with breastfeeding challenges (which you can read about here); but every day gets better and you fall more and more in love with this little person you just created.
TIPS FOR THE IMMEDIATE DAYS AFTERWARDS
Now it’s all very well and good to talk about this experience and how stressful it was and how unprepared I felt but probably not altogether helpful. So here is the advice I would give myself were I doing it again:
You are allowed to get upset. Don’t let anyone make you feel weak or uncomfortable for doing so - your body is coursing with hormones and re-regulating everything after the birth. You have been through a life changing event, it is OK to feel emotional and much better to talk about it and let it out than bottle it up.
You will bleed ALOT. It is normal and nothing to worry about - but if you are worried show your midwife (as I did). They see it all the time and they won’t mind. You might pass large clots and should alert them if it is especially large. Blood loss lessens every day, and does get better. Beware you may become slightly anaemic afterwards so you may be advised to take iron tablets or might require a blood transfusion in extreme cases. I bought Boots Maternity pads and they were cheap and brilliant - I wore them for weeks after giving birth. I promise you will strangely love them.
Be prepared to really ache the day after labour - your body has just been through a massive workout. Keep on top of simple analgesics such as Ibuprofen and Paracetamol and try to take them before the pain gets out of hand rather than waiting for it to become unbearable. Ryan kept tabs on my analgesia throughout his paternity leave, jotting down when and what I’d taken and when the next dose was due. He was the greatest support I could have asked for.
If you have had an episiotomy, it can take up to 6 weeks to properly heal. I couldn’t sit down properly and found a maternity pillow was helpful. Try dousing a maternity pad in cold witch hazel (stored in the fridge) for cooling relief, or a warm bath with 6-8 drops of tea tree (dab yourself dry afterwards). You can also press a pad against the wound when you do a number two for extra support.
Like us - you may be pressured to do a lot of things in those early days. You are new parents and everyone has LOTS of advice… take it all with a pinch of salt and discover what is right for your new family. In the hospital they kept pressuring us to bath the baby, even offering to do it for us. I refused and we enjoyed her sweet baby smell, all covered in her vernix goodness for two weeks before we bathed her. Newborn babies do not need to be bathed frequently and studies show that the more of the vernix they can absorb the better.
There is an entirely separate post dedicated to breastfeeding (here) - but we experienced so many varying opinions and conflicting advice that trying to establish feeding was incredibly overwhelming. We were told we weren’t feeding frequently enough despite the fact it was impossible to wake her, and that the latch wasn’t correct. Marlow lost over a lb in weight and despite the fact that she was clearly a healthy, happy baby it seemed to make lots of the healthcare staff lose their heads. Establishing breastfeeding is difficult and takes time. It might not be for everyone. It is your choice, and don’t let anyone pressurise you either way - you have to do what feels right for you.
In hospital there was lots of pressure to establish breastfeeding before going home, and we were told that the support in the community would not be there. Absolute rubbish. The Liverpool Bambi’s team were exceptional and our extended stay in hospital simply hindered our journey.
The greatest gift that anyone can give in those early weeks is SPACE to get to know your newborn and to nest in and adjust to your new family dynamic - and very importantly if they are going to gift you something… meals on wheels go down a treat! In that first month (and particularly the first couple of weeks) Ryan and I often didn’t manage to eat three square meals a day. We were incredibly grateful to those kind friends who left lasagnes and pasta bakes in our porch, to keep our bellies full and energy levels high.
I would recommend telling friends and family in advance that you would like to keep the paternity leave and those early weeks as visitation by invite only. That way you don’t have to cope with people dropping by, who often mean well but end up increasing stress levels. We had all of Ryan’s family over one evening when the baby was only 3 days old (and although they only stopped by for a couple of hours I remember finding it tough - I still felt tired and sore and just entertaining for a couple of hours took it out of me.) At 4 days old, my family came to stay from Northern Ireland for a couple of nights and this was highly stressful. Respect your fourth trimester and keep guests to a minimum, there will be plenty of time for everyone to meet the new baby and this early time together as a new family is precious.
Adjusting to parenthood is hard, and it’s important to work together as a team with your partner and support one another. Be patient with one another. I don’t know how I would have managed without Ryan’s support and I have incredible admiration for single parents.
I know everybody always says it but if you are any good at napping - try and get some shut eye when the baby sleeps. If someone is available to mind the baby so you can put your head down, take them up on the offer. The night before Ryan went back to work I was struck down with a terrible bout of mastitis. His mum came first thing in the morning and watched the baby in between feeds so I could put my head down and focus on feeling better.
You might not be the kind of person who is dressed, up, out and in a coffee shop when your baby is only a week old and that is OK. Ryan and I felt so much pressure to make the most of his two weeks paternity leave - but we only managed to leave the house a couple of times right before he went back to work. I didn’t feel up to it, and he was incredibly understanding. In those early days I was naked or half-dressed ALOT. Just do what makes you feel comfortable. When my midwife visited and I had gotten dressed for a change - she was shocked when she answered the door because she was so used to seeing me in my PJ’s and dressing gown, or semi-nude.
Most importantly this is just my experience - you will have your own and it may be easier or harder. All I seek to achieve with this is that you know you are not alone. It is hard and it will get so much better. As the days roll on your body will recover and you will start to feel more and more normal. As best you can try and enjoy these early weeks soaking up all the newborn goodness because it goes so quickly and they will never be that new again.
