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This is going to be the most personal thing I've ever written, and probably will ever write. I'm not really one to put much of my life on the internet, but the great thing about it is the ability to spread awareness.

As most of you know, Adam and I were blessed with our beautiful little boy Euan in November 2014. Since then, I have gone through a rollercoaster of emotions - as most new parents do. However, I had the added difficulty of having suffered a traumatic labour. I will be going into some seriously personal and possibly gory details so this won't be for the faint hearted. I also want to say that I don't mean to scare anyone if they are currently pregnant, or put anyone off. I know I don't have to put every detail, and I will skip some things but I feel I need to give the most painful aspects of my experience for people to understand why I have been struggling. I just want to share my story in the truest light in the hopes it might help someone else.

So the 11th of November was when everything started to kick off. Over the next 48 hours came contractions, no sleep and 2 hospital visits before my waters broke and was allowed to stay in hospital. Because my contractions were so irregular, (almost stopped completely at one point) I wasn't experiencing any real build up of pain. So when my waters did break, I felt like I was hit by a truck. It was so all of a sudden, I just stood still and didn't know what to do with my body. This pain carried on for 6 more hours, I was too far gone for any pain killers so I had to rely on gas and air, which by that point was useless. So au natural it was then!

I do consider myself extremely lucky to have had such a short labour, that is my saving grace. But at the time, it could have been 60 hours for the amount of pain I was in.

So when Euan finally arrived, is unfortunately when it gets messy. Literally and figuratively. I had a third degree tear, was losing a lot of blood so I only held my newborn son for about 15 minutes before I had to hand him over to Adam for me to be whisked off for minor surgery. No chance of breastfeeding, no chance to celebrate him just being born, no chance for the pain I had just experienced to be taken over by this euphoria that everyone kept telling me would come.

So I was given a spinal injection and was fixed up. I was gone about 2, 2 1/2 hours by this point and was reunited with Adam and our son.
I was told I would get the feeling back in the bottom half of my body within 4 hours but I would have to stay overnight. Fine by me! Maybe I'll get some help!

What a nice thought that was. Not only could Adam not stay with me for the night, (he had to leave at 8pm and couldn't come back until 10am) I barely saw anyone. I had a very obviously stressed nurse come round every few hours and try and milk me like a cow as breastfeeding wasn't working out so well. I also still couldn't move. No-one asked me how my legs were feeling, I had no-one turn me over or even suggest it.
The worst part was that I couldn't pick Euan up out of his cot on my own. So when the nurse came round and handed to me midway through the night, I didn't let him go, for fear I wouldn't get him back because there was such a long gap between me seeing anyone.
I couldn't move fully until Adam came back at 10am and him and a different nurse had to help me out of bed and help me walk. I'd managed to wiggle my toes and try and shift about a centimetre on my own because it was getting so sore.

So morning finally came and we got to go home at about 10pm that night.
Cue the start of recovery. Which was long and painful. Adam had to practically care for me for the first month, then I managed to start doing things on my own the second month, by the third month I was remembering what it felt like to not be constantly in pain.

An add in also, is the doctor that came in to help just before Euan was delivered, tried to put a catheter in WHILST I was having a contraction... So you can imagine what kind of leftover pain I was left with after that. Not fun.

So I thought I was getting back to normal. Physically, I was. Mentally, apparently not. Almost 12 months down the line, I went on some training for a new job which involved me learning about pregnancy and labour and the possible complications. So I relived my experience every day for a week. It was then I realised I hadn't processed anything that had happened the year before. I lost my appetite, I didn't want to talk to anyone, mainly because I didn't know really why I was feeling this way. That's when I went to the doctor.
Since then, I have tried to keep talking, crying, being angry and letting it out. Now I am in counselling and I can't believe what an amazing support network I have around me. I am thankful every day for my friends and family. I also have to thank the Birth Trauma Association. For a long time, I thought I was on my own in feeling this way, and having looked them up (with the help of my Mum) I realised how many women suffer from traumatic births. I made me feel much less hopeless.

Soooooo, all this is leading somewhere! I know it's a while off but I am going to do the Stafford half marathon in March next year and I am going to try and raise money and awareness for the Birth Trauma Association. I know how difficult it is at the minute for everyone to spare anything but it would be absolutely amazing if you could give just a little. Also, share this on your Facebook. If I can reach just one other person who has gone through anything similar, or help anyone in any way, then it makes me spilling my guts out worth it. I am not asking for sympathy, I am finally in a place where I don't need that anymore.
I am ready to use this experience to either help other people, or if not, use it to make myself a stronger person.

Thank you for reading this epic essay of a status if you've got this far! And thank you to everyone who has helped me so far xxx

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