About "To Breathe Again"

This blog is about my journey as I write a book about my experience after having a traumatic birth. For a quick look at what happened, visit "How it all went down a.k.a. what the heck happened". In that blog post I give a very quick overview to, well, what the heck happened.

I'll say here that we are not 100% sure what went wrong (its more like 97.9%). My surgeon and other physicians have made educated guesses that during my c-section my small bowl was nicked (causing a perfectly round hole - there is really no other way to get a PERFECT HOLE with clean edges) which caused an infection to slowly build in my abdomen. Your intestines are filled with all sorts of bacteria which is normal. When those bacteria leave your intestines and enter your abdominal cavity you have a big problem on your hands.

The birth was traumatic (the epidermal failed during the c-section- after 3 hours of pushing with no progress, and I had to be put under after yelling PAIN NOT PRESSURE over and over), the 7 days following were traumatic (filled with even more pain, not enough medicine, WAY too many nurses and the words "just walk it off" and "you shouldn't take your pain meds, they are delaying your healing" - a quote repeated over and over by the way too many nurses), thinking I was going to die in my living room was traumatic, the emergency surgery on day 8 was traumatic (I was certain I was going to die and was actually disappointed when I woke up. I was still in pain. I thought I would be in a place where there was no pain. I had become at peace with dying and then bam, not so fast... and so more pain), then the following 2 more weeks of yet another hospital stay was traumatic (I had multiple procedures done that I was not nearly sedated enough for and the pulling out of one drain which I thought was going to pull out my entire insides). You get the idea.

As for the Postpartum Depression, we don't know if it was caused by the PTSD or if it was simply something I would have struggled with anyway. What we do know is that it was made worse by the PTSD and anxiety I had when I got home from the hospital 3 weeks after my c-section.

Since then I've struggled to bond with my son, deal with day to day stress, medication management, and therapy. I work hard to feel good and get better. Some days are better than others. Gregory will be 9 months old this week and spending a day with him is still one of the hardest things I do even though he is one of the cutest, easiest, sweetest babies you'd ever meet.

Please feel free to ask questions if you're wondering about anything you've read here.