Dedicated to expectant mothers. The story of my unsuccessful birth. Childbirth is not as scary as its consequences. My story Stories about unsuccessful births and their consequences

On February 13th my son turned 8 years old. 13th.. It’s not that I have a bad attitude towards this number, but the impressions associated with it were not very good.. My friend is sure that it is because of him that all the misfortunes, because On the 13th, I don’t remember what month or year, her son died of a common cold. Anything is possible, but I somehow have little faith in such things, so I won’t exaggerate.

In the early summer of 2005, I found out that I was pregnant. My husband, now ex, reacted calmly to this news. He only said that it was my business whether to give birth or not. Mine is so mine, especially, even if he was against it, I would still decide to keep the child. After all, I was sure that it would be a boy, just as I wanted. And as you can see, I was not mistaken. By the way, this was my second pregnancy. My eldest daughter was one and a half years old at that time. I always dreamed of having children the same age, and definitely a boy and a girl.

All was good. There were no fears at all like during my first pregnancy. Moreover, everyone said that it was easier to give birth to a second child. My husband was a sailor then. I was at sea for a year, at home for two or three months. When I was in my fifth month, he went to sea. We were left alone with our daughter. Maybe pregnancy had an effect, but there were grievances in my soul. I felt like I was abandoned. I often cried at night, feeling most unhappy and deprived. After all, this was my second pregnancy “alone.” The first time my husband came only for the birth.

So, my pregnancy was going well, I didn’t complain about my health, and it was easy to carry the baby. Small problems, however, appeared in the second half. My blood pressure began to drop, which is why my vision often became dark and stormy. But I wasn’t worried about myself or the child, because... I visited the doctor on time, took tests, and, in general, was an exemplary and obedient patient of the antenatal clinic. My tests were always normal, the ultrasound results were encouraging, the doctors promised a healthy baby - what else could you need? But one day, when there was very little left before giving birth, I suddenly began to feel some strange pains that I had never experienced before, which became more intense every day. My pubic bone hurt. It's strange to feel like this. After all, this didn’t happen during my first pregnancy. During my next visit to the doctor, I told him everything in great detail, to which I heard a short answer: “What did you want? The child is growing, pressing. If you give birth, everything will pass.” I was even happy about this answer, I decided that it was really okay since they responded so easily. Moreover, I knew that each pregnancy proceeds in its own way, that much depends on the position of the fetus, its size, presentation, etc. and so on. And the gynecologist, a pleasant woman in all respects, inspired confidence.

I calmed down, but it was impossible to come to terms with the pain. Every day I only got worse. At night I couldn’t move, and in the morning I had to walk for half an hour to even walk like an old duck. Nothing else bothered me, but that was enough. Imagine: a child in the next room is screaming, and you can neither reach nor crawl to him. What about him? Stuck? Fell? Maybe you need help urgently? In general, the picture is eerie. But I still had to walk, because... It was just the two of us with our daughter. And she needed to cook and wash, well, in general, who am I telling...

By some miracle, I continued to visit my gynecologist weekly and get tested. Each time, with tears in my eyes, I told the doctor and nurse how painful and difficult it was for me to walk. But they just smiled back at me and promised that everything would be over very soon. It’s simply impossible to describe how impatiently I waited for the birth. And finally, the moment came when I felt the first contractions. It seemed like it should have been scary, but I was happy like a child. Very soon my suffering will end, I thought, although the real suffering lay ahead of me... Me and my son. But that morning, February 12th, there were no signs of trouble. My mother-in-law spent the night with me then. She was also very happy, especially that I was giving birth on the 12th and not the 13th. She also did not have the most rosy attitude towards this number. And she seemed to feel that if I was late, something would happen.

I waited until the interval between contractions was reduced to 10 minutes and called an ambulance. The most interesting thing is that I was not at all worried or afraid of the upcoming pain, although the first time I gave birth only after 41 hours of contractions and 4 hours of pushing! On the contrary, I rejoiced at the approaching birth. Moreover, my belly was not as big as before the first birth, and I was sure that I would give birth painlessly and quickly. And here I am in the maternity hospital. After all the required procedures, I am left in the prenatal room alone with my contractions. It’s strange, but there was no one else there except me. Although one woman was brought in from the pathology center for pregnant women late in the evening, she was taken away again after a while. I was left completely alone. I endured the pain quite easily, did not scream or go crazy, as during the first birth. Night has come. I didn't have time to give birth on the 12th...

When my time came, they wheeled a gurney and a ladder up to it. I had to climb it. And then the worst thing began. Trying to put my foot on the first step, I suddenly realized that I couldn’t lift my foot. Not only because of the hellish pain, but also because something prevented me from doing it. I felt some kind of crunching and tingling in the pelvic area. I told everyone who was nearby about this. For some reason there were a lot of people. Probably because there were no more women in labor. Suddenly everyone began to fuss and left, leaving me alone. I heard whispers in the corridor, but could not make out who was talking about what. I began to understand that something was wrong. No one responded to my questions, and this caused even greater horror. After some time, an unfamiliar doctor came and asked me about how my first birth went, whether there was an extract and that’s all. I spoke briefly, sometimes shouting while pushing. He didn't answer my questions. Gone. Two guys came, put me on a gurney and took me away. We drove for a long time. Along long corridors, then in an elevator, then along corridors again. Finally we stopped. There are strange people around in home clothes, with broken arms and legs, and next to him on the same gurney is an old woman, twisted in pain. I saw an office, entry into which was “strictly prohibited.” And then it dawned on me - we are in traumatology, at the X-ray room. I asked: “Why don’t we come in?” They answered me dryly: “Queue.” Imagine: I’m giving birth and at the same time standing in line for an x-ray!

Luckily, the line was small and they accepted me. Then we waited for the result, then the doctor, then the verdict. But they didn’t tell me anything; I waited in the corridor. On the way back, a woman in a white robe leaned over me and for some reason said in a half-whisper: “You have a crack in your pubic bone. 7-8 mm. If you give birth yourself, you may remain crippled, and you have children. So think about it." It is very difficult to think in such a situation and with such sensations. I realized that I needed to think about a caesarean section, and decided to rely on the opinion of the doctors. I’ll do as they say, I thought, because the doctors won’t do anything bad. They brought me a paper to sign - consent to the operation. As you understand, I had neither the strength nor the desire to read, just so that it would all end sooner. Signed.

Looking ahead a little, I will say that then, and maybe now too, obstetricians received an additional salary for each operation. I found out this much after giving birth. Then I realized what those whispers were about. By the way, the traumatologist who visited me after the operation was very surprised that I was operated on. How about a caesarean? For what? Second birth and cesarean section? - he was amazed. It turns out that with my “crack,” which was just a physiological separation of the bones, which always happens during childbirth, I could give birth myself! But what about the prize then?

Back to childbirth. Whether I was giving birth or not, I didn’t understand. I felt pain every half a minute, or maybe more often, I don’t remember. After I signed the papers, they immediately decided to take me to the operating room. And oh, horror! She wasn't ready! And the most interesting thing is that they didn’t hesitate to tell me about it. Okay, they weren’t planning on operating on me, but what about emergencies? But there was no one to understand. They connected me to an IV that stops labor! It was scary. Really scary. Every time the midwife ran into the room and listened to the baby’s heartbeat, I peered into her face with horror. I began to push less often, but just as hard and for as long as before. Finally, after two (!) hours of waiting, they took me to the cutting. I will not say anything about how they twisted and stabbed me, how they hit me only the 4th time, how they shouted at me that I was ruining my child. That wasn't the worst thing. I felt something bad. I don't know what exactly, but it's bad. A barely audible “Lord, help me!” from the surgeons killed my last hope for a happy ending.

It's finished. They finally showed me my son. He looked strong, strong. Only the color of his skin seemed to me a little bluish or even with a purple tint. But, be that as it may, he cried, which means he was alive. And that was the most important thing for me. They placed it on my chest for literally a second. Weight 3450, height 52. This is the only pleasant thing I have heard in the last 24 hours. Then I started having cramps. Again there is bustle and running around. General anesthesia into a vein.

I woke up from a terrible pain in my stomach. The anesthesia has worn off and the wound hurts. I don’t understand what’s wrong with me, where I am, day or night. I looked around. Several mothers are lying on the same couches, and next to them are babies in glass cradles. And I don’t have anyone... I asked the nurse, she answered: all questions should be directed to the doctor. I asked for a drink, but they didn’t give me a drink. I found out that I had lost a lot of blood and that they had to undergo a transfusion. I fell asleep again.

I was woken up by a nice woman with a side braid, the head of the children's department. She told me to follow her. I just asked: “Is he alive?” “Alive,” she answered. We arrived at the children's intensive care unit. I had never seen before or would have thought that so many tubes could stick out of a baby. A huge machine was breathing for my pale and thin boy. A lump came to my throat, but I didn’t cry. The doctor calmly told me that on the second day my son stopped breathing, that there was a brain hemorrhage, and that they would do everything possible to save him. And she also told me not to hope too much that he would be a full-fledged child... I didn’t quite understand what she was talking about. After all, I encountered this for the first time. I was told later that he was simply pulled back out of the birth canal by completely different doctors...Like a zombie, I left the intensive care unit and walked as if into emptiness. Mothers passed by with children in their arms, I followed them with my eyes, and it seemed to me that all this was happening in a dream.

However, I was faced with the most real reality. My son lay in a coma for 11 days. I started breathing. I was happy. And then - pathologies, neurology, diagnoses and endless treatment that continues to this day. Treatment for an incurable disease - cerebral palsy. But that's a completely different story. Who is guilty? The doctor from the antenatal clinic who didn’t send me for an x-ray? Or the doctor from the maternity hospital who performed surgery on me when there was no indication for it? I don't know. I only know that an absolutely healthy, full-term child became disabled through no fault of his own or mine. By the way, in my extract from the maternity hospital it is written that during pregnancy I had rubella. Although I have heard about such a disease, I know nothing. They wanted to make me guilty, as you can see. But they continue to work. How many more women and how many children will suffer is unknown. It's scary to think about it. And it's not necessary.

I don’t want to scare anyone, I just want to warn everyone who is going to become a mother. Take care of your health yourself; do not completely trust doctors. Contact other specialists if some do not help. Everything is in our hands, we just need to learn to listen not only to others, but also to ourselves.

I decided to write here my story of childbirth, my second birth.
27 days have already passed since that day, the pain has dulled a little, but has not subsided. I am writing here because I want to speak out to as many people as possible, so that the pain dulls and goes away... I don’t know... Why, ask, I don’t talk about am I writing this out loud? Yes, it’s simple, when you start talking about it verbally, a lump appears in your throat, and there are tears in your eyes, and you can no longer speak.

My pregnancy was not easy - toxicosis, the threat of miscarriage... But my daughter held on, although I stubbornly did not want to go to work and went to work. In general, we reached 36 weeks with something, the doctors said that everything was fine with our daughter, we went for an ultrasound with Doppler ultrasound, they showed and told us everything: our girl, who was chewing something or just smacking her lips, was shown how cheeky she was and everything was wonderful, she was developing and was almost ready to go out, no abnormalities were detected, except for a slightly enlarged pelvis (but it’s not scary, I went to get an ultrasound done at a paid good center, I know it and I know what kind of ultrasound specialists there are).

My girl always moved very actively, responded to her dad’s touches, and suddenly she somehow calmed down (a week and a half passed after the ultrasound) on Saturday she hardly moved, and in the evening I felt and saw movements, then again there was a lull.... then I I thought that this was the calm before childbirth, so did my sister and I began to feel better, somehow I felt better. On Sunday she very lightly pushed me in the rib and then I felt a little movement in my stomach and was already convinced that I would go into labor very soon and for some reason on Sunday evening I felt so anxious, bad thoughts came into my head, I tried to push my stomach (slightly of course) but no one answered this, my husband reassured me, said that she was sleeping, had calmed down, and would give birth soon, but for some reason I felt lousy in my soul and really wanted to sleep, I fell asleep... and at three in the morning I woke up from the fact that My water broke, the color was good, and I was glad that labor had begun, because it means I was right, she calmed down before the birth... Hurray, we are going to give birth with my husband, I’m positive, it’s really scary, even though it’s my second birth.

We arrived at maternity hospital 16 on Sokol, we were not greeted very warmly, they probably wanted to sleep at night, I changed clothes (my husband was waiting in the corridor when they would call him to change), and while they put me on CTG, the nurse started connecting the sensor and... .. and she can’t find her heart, I start to panic, she asks me to calm down and turn on my side, she says we’ll find it now, the child probably just turned over... they found something very quiet and fast, I calmed down, called a doctor, moved on to another CTG. the same thing... they began to suspect that we could hear my heartbeat, but they still told me to calm down, and they took me for an ultrasound so that everything would become clear... The ultrasound was done by doctor Sidnev (he was also my doctor later), I walked over my stomach for a long time and found a heart, it was NOT BEATING((((((((((((((((I burst into tears, I couldn’t believe that this happened to me... why, for what) ?????? my baby, my Lizonka, my poor Lizonka ((((((((((((why......)

In the end, my husband was not allowed to attend the birth... I went out to my husband in hysterics, he cried too... we sat in an embrace for several minutes and cried... but I had to get up and go give birth. The process of childbirth is clear to everyone, I can only say that it was painful both physically and mentally; during my first birth, giving birth was not so painful one hundred percent, probably the moral factor had an impact. The midwife calmed me down and was very kind (thank her SO MUCH FOR THIS, without support I wouldn’t even know what happened to me)... I gave birth, saw my little, sweet and very quiet baby ((((((((( ((((touched her leg, I see this leg immediately as soon as I close my eyes..... in general, at first glance, my little one got very entangled in the umbilical cord and suffocated in the end, but of course everyone will find out in more detail, the results are waiting a month in such cases, or even more...

I can’t understand why this happened? Why is this for my girl? I’ll never see what kind of eyes she had, what kind of voice she had... I’ll never know anything... and she carried it so hard, on the verge of miscarriage, but she held on and reached her due date, just a little bit was left, and here she is. ...... I couldn’t give life to my girl, and I will never have this Lisa again.... To give birth knowing that everything is in vain, that you give birth just like that and endure all this just like that, not in order to give life , and in order to simply finish the “case” (as the doctors themselves told me), it is terribly difficult and unbearably painful (mentally).

My doctor reassured me that 25% of children really calm down, and you can’t predict anything here... but I still think that if I hadn’t thought and listened that they were calming down, I would have run to the doctor on Saturday or at least on Sunday, and we would have had time to be born alive, I’m guilty before my Lizonka... and I still can’t understand why???? Have I really done such a bad thing that I am being punished like this, and most importantly why is this happening to my daughter..... I can’t come to terms with it, I will never forget her and all this, I close my eyes and see her lying on a cold tray, so quiet and it's all because of me((((((((((((((

We buried Lisa on August 5... she was very beautiful and it was unbearable to see her lying in a small pink coffin, it seemed that she was just sleeping, but when I heard the coffin being hammered, my heart just sank somewhere, I felt wild rage and injustice and... . helplessness... After all, I can’t do anything, I can’t change anything (((((

Doctors advise me to undergo treatment for a year and get pregnant again, otherwise I won’t get out of this... but in my opinion, after this, deciding to carry a child again... well, I don’t know... is it difficult and is it even possible?..

The luck didn’t end there... after three weeks from giving birth, I rushed to the hospital (postpartum complications began) and stayed there for 7 days...

I’m very tired of all this, I’m also tired of thoughts... I want to run away somewhere

Natural childbirth is such a popular topic that I just couldn’t pass it by...I often read and feel happy or sad along with the authors, remembering my story. 3.5 years have already passed, but it seems like it was yesterday...

It is possible that experienced mothers in labor are already tired of readers with their sob stories and hundreds of thousands of letters. But I still hope that my story will be useful to someone.

I trimester

I found out that I was pregnant in the 3rd week (December 25, 2011) (I was barely 20 then). The physical condition and inner sensation indicated this. I immediately went to the doctor, did an ultrasound, and solemnly announced the “presence of pregnancy.”

The first 3 months were simply magical. I practically didn’t feel sick, I didn’t experience any ailments. All tests were normal, my condition was excellent. The belly became noticeable at 3 months. Everything was fine and there were no signs of trouble.

II trimester

This is where it all started...

The belly was growing rapidly. Every month I gained 1.5-2 kg. The doctor constantly scolded me and threatened: “You won’t give birth.” I began to limit myself in nutrition, but the scale arrow stubbornly crawled up. The first stretch marks appeared on my stomach... These bright purple stripes shocked me. Creams and oils began to be rubbed into the stomach every day. Then I still hoped that something could be done with them.

But, as it turned out, these were only flowers. Problems with the kidneys began... Kidneys are a hereditary issue in my family line. And then there’s pregnancy, as a provocation. I also managed to catch a cold twice.

The child developed normally, but already (it seems) on the 3rd ultrasound the phrase “large fetus” was heard for the first time, which haunted me until the very birth.

There was also a pleasant moment during this period - an ultrasound showed that it would be a boy. I wanted a boy, so the news became a balm for my tormented soul.

III trimester

The most difficult period for me. It's hard to even remember...

Summer 2012, July-August. Heat, difficulty walking, constant shortness of breath, swelling.

A bunch of unpleasant diagnoses, polyhydramnios, ureaplasmosis. The ultrasound results showed new terrible conclusions: double entanglement, large fetal head, threat of premature birth. I was in conservancy. The child was very active, kicked a lot and constantly rolled over. At each ultrasound, he was positioned differently: either he was saying hello to us with his butt, or he was beating with his fists. Because of such hyperactivity, the doctor could not determine until the very day X: I would give birth myself or have a caesarean section. Meanwhile, the estimated date of birth fell on August 24.

August became a bad dream for me. I could barely move, my pelvic bones hurt terribly. Sometimes it seemed to me that I heard them creak as they diverged. I wanted to drink a lot, but only 1 liter per day was allowed (including liquid from soups, fruits, and vegetables). It was difficult to stand, lying down was generally unbearable. On my back I was out of breath, on my side I felt nauseous. The dream became a dream. By that time, in total, I had gained 20 kg in weight.

I was going to give birth not in a city hospital, but in a regional one (R-n-D). I took my choice of doctor seriously. He became a man, the head of the observation department. It was awkward, but at our first meeting he used a lot of humor, encouraged me and I calmed down. We agreed that on August 18 I would come and lie down to wait for my baby under the watchful eye of the doctor. But everything didn't go according to plan...

Childbirth

I was not afraid of pain and suddenness. I desperately wanted to give birth as soon as possible, because I no longer had the strength....

This happened on August 10th. Things were already packed, because according to my own calculations, I was supposed to give birth on the 12th. And my travel bag was waiting for me, just in case.

I woke up at 5 am. There was a strange feeling of heaviness in my stomach; the baby did not say hello. I really wanted to go to the toilet. I went there, saw some blood, and panicked. The girls who were in the care with me had already given birth by this time and “delighted” me with stories about how the “plug” comes off before giving birth.

"Well, it's begun..."- I thought then. I listened to my feelings. It feels strange in my stomach, but it doesn’t hurt. She returned to bed and tried to sleep. At 5.30 the first painful blow struck me. The lower abdomen grabbed and did not let go for about 2 minutes. The pain was tolerable; in my normal state, my stomach often hurts more. I had no doubt that these were contractions. In my heart I hoped it was training, but I still called the doctor. He ordered to observe for an hour and, if the frequency of contractions reaches a 30-minute interval, to immediately go to the maternity hospital. I took a shower, did all the necessary hygiene procedures and, looking at the clock, realized that the interval of contractions was close to 15 minutes. We left for the maternity hospital immediately. My mother accompanied me.

The journey took about 1.5 hours. It was hot since the morning, we stood in traffic for about 20 minutes. The pain intensified, but I endured. My biggest fear was that my water would break and I would look shameful. By 9 o'clock we finally got there. The doctor was busy and I waited for him in the waiting room for about 30 minutes. It was hard and painful, I wanted to lie down. Why lie there, I wanted to forget myself for a while.

When the doctor looked at me, I heard him address the nurse: "Opening 8 fingers, in the prenatal room, urgently!". A fuss began around me. It became clear that the need for a cesarean section disappeared by itself. It was also too late to get an epidural.

Then some moments fell out of my memory; I was in some kind of prostration. I felt only pain, and when it let go, oblivion set in. There was always someone around me in the prenatal area. The doctor came by 5 times, probably every 15 minutes. My water never broke and my bladder was punctured. In the ward they connected me to a CTG, they seated a nurse who determined the onset of a contraction and, stroking my arm, said: “ Be patient, it will hurt a lot now"It’s hard for me to say how much time passed from the moment I found myself in the prenatal room until the trip to the labor room. I think about an hour. The last time the doctor looked at me, he said: " Let's go give birth".

A real horror movie began in the family room. The attempts were not strong enough, the doctor turned into a monster (as it seemed to me then). I heard him shout: " Harder, you'll strangle the child!"The process of giving birth to my baby lasted about 40 minutes, and all this time I could not give birth to the head. I remembered the ultrasound conclusion: large fetal head. They made an incision, but it didn't help much. The doctor pressed on the stomach while pushing. I was still horrified then: " What is he doing?! It's also impossible"But I didn’t interfere, he knew better. At some point, I suddenly felt light and the pain subsided. I didn’t even understand what happened. It turns out that the head came out. Within 1 push, the shoulders were born. What happened next seemed like heaven. The baby was born. blue-violet (I'm not exaggerating one bit) and did not scream right away. The time was 11.20. Whether the midwife spanked him or he himself, I didn’t see. But after 2 minutes a squeak was heard throughout the entire family room. They put him on my chest for 2 seconds and I realized that he was 100 times worse and more painful there than me. Then again some kind of fuss, again slight amnesia. A neonatologist came up and said that the baby was fine, everything was fine with him.

My birth was indicated on the certificate. How "fast" which is not good for a child.

Postpartum period

The effect of the injection began to weaken after 20 minutes. This is my second anesthesia in my life and, although the dose was minimal, it was painful for me to come to my senses. When it was completely gone, I asked the midwife to show me the baby. This tiny lump is 3,800 and 52 cm.

He didn't cry, he smacked his lips funny. I somehow calmed down, everything seemed to be fine.

I was placed in a 6-bed ward. For the first two days, I couldn’t drink water due to dehydration. Hemoglobin dropped significantly, I had no strength to walk. There was a mirror hanging in the room and, looking into it, I didn’t recognize myself. White as a wall, eyes sunken...

All this time, the doctor who delivered the baby came in strictly 2 times a day. He was interested in my affairs and did an examination.

As expected, starting from the second day, the baby was brought in for feeding every 3 hours. For the first 2 days he slept all the time.

The milk came on the second day, but it had nowhere to go. I couldn't wake up my child to feed him. It was even getting kind of boring...

Every day a neonatologist came and talked about each child and answered questions. She told me that the baby cries often and a lot, he doesn’t have enough milk, and he has jaundice (seen in the photo). But when they brought him to me, he didn’t look hungry and didn’t rush greedily at his chest.

It was incredibly hot in the room. We opened the windows to let in the saving air. My bed was opposite the window... There was no fresh air, however, both me and the baby were still blown out. But more on that later.

A week later we were discharged.

The first 5 days at home were a fairy tale. He ate every 3 hours and slept all night. From birth to this moment, the night is sacred for us, we sleep.

On day 5 it became clear that something was wrong with the child. It is difficult to determine a runny nose in newborns, since milk gets into their nose and they can “grunt.” Mothers will understand me. But it seemed to me that this was a real runny nose. The temperature has risen. But the strangest thing was another moment - The baby's left arm became immobilized. It dangled like gutta-percha. The grasping reflex disappeared; he clearly did not control it. In addition, he constantly tilted his head to the left side. The local doctor was called. She didn’t like what she saw, she called an ambulance and we were admitted to the neonatal pathology department. It turned out to be more painful and scarier than childbirth...

We arrived at about 6 p.m. The fuss around began in the emergency room. No one really explained anything to me; everyone referred to the attending physician. The doctor examined the baby twice, waved her hands in confusion, saying that it was unclear what was wrong with the hand. A neurologist was called from the children's neurological center. He arrived late, already at night. He fiddled with the handle for a long time, tapped, and asked how the birth proceeded. Finally, the diagnosis: left-sided paralysis. The word “paralysis” made the world go from under its feet. But the doctor explained that this was a birth injury. During childbirth, a cervical vertebra shifted, it pulled a nerve and the arm was paralyzed. Prescribed treatment. Added to this was ARVI, which “inflated” the ward.

And it began... 5 injections a day, 12-15 jars of medicine 3 times a day. As you know, in the hospital they treat everything that is found, the rest is treated for prevention.

The first week was hell. The baby's hand turned blue, any movement or touch brought him pain. I started having problems with my tummy. He screamed day and night, and I no longer understood why he was crying. My head was spinning, it was scary and painful, for everyone.

But by the end of the first week, the first progress appeared. Blue slept and the baby began to move his fingers.

They continued to inject us, give us syrups and feed us pills. We added 3 hours of lamp every day because the jaundice did not go away.

In total, we spent 18 days in the hospital. Terrible, at some point it seemed like hopeless days... We were discharged with a whole roll of prescriptions from the neurologist. An extensive rehabilitation complex was required so that the arm would develop normally and by the time my boy was one year old he would not differ from his peers.

We checked out and immediately began rescue measures. Over the course of a year, I completed 5 courses of massages and exercise therapy + electropheresis. The massage therapist came home with her equipment and performed manipulations on the baby for an hour.

I think that thanks to her, we are now developing normally. Although the doctors “warned” that the nerve impulses in the hand would be weak, which means the child would feel it poorly and would not be able to fully control it.

In addition to the massage courses, there were a lot of examinations, we were pricked with needles, an electric current was passed through a pen, and much more to reveal nervous activity in the hand. We injected vitamins, visited a neurologist once every 3 months and fought the disease as best we could.

Physically the child developed well. He sat up early, got into his walker early, and walked early.

In the photo he is 7 months old and he is actively working in the kitchen)

Until he was a year old, it was noticeable that his right arm was stronger and more involved. Then everything became equal, thanks to a lot of work.

Now he is practically an adult, active (and sometimes hyperactive) boy, whom you can often see in my reviews. The injury still left a mark in the form of an unbalanced nervous system. We have experienced a lot of fears, tears and aggression and, I think, we will survive again.

The first, most difficult year, after his birth, I often wondered whether the doctor was to blame and what exactly it was. And after thinking for a long time, I came to the conclusion that everything turned out for the best, that it could have been worse. The doctor acted according to the situation and saved the child, even if the cost of saving was so high.

Be healthy and happy!))

How joyful it was and I want to say a little scary to find out that I was finally pregnant. The pregnancy was going well, I felt fine, I ran, danced, and at 36 weeks I even wanted to climb Chekhov’s Peak, confident that I had enough strength. The beginning of pregnancy, I kept looking at my belly and wondering when it would grow. And in the second month I bought myself pants, because all the other things, it seemed to me, were already too tight.
Toxicosis didn’t really bother me, I felt sick, I couldn’t eat my food, so I went to my mother to eat fried chimcha. But I vomited a couple of times in practice, fortunately a large and long scarf saved me (because at that time I was constantly snotty and sneezing - the doctor said it was an allergy), and the scarf saved me because I did not have time to run to the toilet. My belly grew quickly, and by the end I was amazed at how the skin and abdominal muscles can stretch well (and how poorly or how long it takes for them to return to their opposite position). So... at night I slept as if I had no stomach at all.
And with this great belly I passed my license (and like everyone else I sat in line from 2 to 5, not hoping that anyone would give in to me), with this great belly I wrote my diploma, passed the state tests, and I have a memory from a big watermelon I didn’t get worse at all, moreover, for the first time in my entire long study at the University, I learned all the tickets and knew all the questions for the first time, so I felt calm. Although on one state during the exam I had to put on a guilty face and, right before the answer, ask to go to the “N” place, to which I ran so hard that later the teachers mistook my shortness of breath for the excitement that supposedly overwhelmed me...

But after 36 weeks everything changed, it was extremely difficult to walk... Girls, get your license and drive a car, until the end of pregnancy I drove a car, and not in public transport, where one passenger seat would probably not be enough for me =). And already at 36 weeks I began to hope that I would give birth as soon as possible. Well, somewhere around the 36th week there was a night when I thought it had started, my stomach was very tight and I really wanted to go to the toilet. When I asked on the forum why this was happening, almost everyone was sent to the maternity hospital - they say you’re giving birth, and why are you sitting on the Internet when it’s time to pack your things. In fact, the baby just sank, pressing on some nerve there (education does not allow me to know its scientific name) and on the bladder, respectively.

With such success, I reached the 39th week, tormented by the question of why I still haven’t given birth, because I persuaded my baby so, SO Persuaded. I went to the appointment, my doctor looked at my swelling, and said that I should go to the hospital to relieve the swelling. Now I’m experienced and I understand that these are all fairy tales - all pregnant women swell, especially in the heat, and that she decided to just play it safe. I was swelling so much that even the ugly blue Chinese rubber slippers I had to walk in were too small for me. And in general, undressed with these swellings, I looked like a baby elephant.

In general, at exactly 39 weeks on Tuesday, I packed my things and went to the regional hospital for the pathology of pregnant women. The woman in the waiting room, looking at my due date and belly, doubted that I should be admitted to bed and thought that it was probably time for me to go to the city maternity hospital. And I was thinking whether I should be happy or not. A small, short woman with a huge belly and also with swelling and also at the same time was admitted with me.
I lay there for a whole week, there was no treatment, I tried not to take too many pills, especially an incomprehensible-colored tincture. Every day we got up in the morning, went to the nurses, took our blood pressure, everyone tried to avoid the scales that were in the waiting room - why be nervous again? Then, as a rule, at about 10 o’clock a doctor came with a trainee who could never find the baby’s heart to listen to it and kneaded her stomach so that from the outside it looked extremely scary, and then it was funny that we all could barely contain our laughter.. After the doctor’s examination Everyone in the room, including me, ran home.
In general, of course, I wanted to give birth at home, but in the hospital it was calmer because I wasn’t afraid for our sofa, which the broken waters could have seriously spoiled. It was only later that I realized that the water doesn’t come out like a bucket of water like from a tap...at least, that’s not the case for everyone.
So on the night of August 5th, I saw my roommate sitting on the bed and somehow breathing nervously. I get up and ask what is it? And she's missing something. I say, this is probably when you started giving birth. She's so early, we haven't bought anything yet. 35 weeks current (And she’s from Yuzhno-Kurilsk in general). Then another roommate stands up. A massive shaking begins. It was the first time I saw a person begin to give birth in front of me. In short, we sent her to the maternity hospital, and she said goodbye to us and said, “Well, we’ll meet at the maternity hospital.” On this day, in theory, I should have been discharged. But I doubted this when the doctor who was observing me sent me to the head Inna Yaroslavovna, oh my mother, why did she do that?! I lay down on the chair, and oh horror, how painful it was!!! “Well, I squeezed in two fingers, but my neck is not active yet,” she answered. And I said, “It hurts!” She said, “Don’t worry, the contractions aren’t that painful.” I calmed down, I thought, “okay, the worst is over, since the contractions are not so painful.” It’s a pity that doctors like this don’t get jailed for misleading people - now I know how painful contractions are. In short, I then walked around like a shot elk. It was terribly painful to walk, I hobbled to the room - the neighbors looked askance. In general, after this, the plug apparently began to come off. But don't think that it is anything like a cork from a champagne bottle, it was some kind of blood mucus. But I thought I wouldn’t start giving birth soon, because the traffic jam could go away for a month. In short, after that, me and that little woman with a big belly were sent to the city maternity hospital by ambulance. They brought it. There were no places in the maternity hospital. We sat on a chair for a couple of hours and waited for the bed to become available.

I found a place, laid out my things, chatted a little with my neighbors, missed my husband, and had dinner. It was around 9-10 pm. Well... it seems it has begun, I thought, when I began to feel light contractions. At that moment I thought, “Oh, well, it’s not that scary.” With the help of breathing, I relieved my pain and still doubted whether or not to go to the nurse to tell the news. I thought that maybe I should sleep, but still the contractions did not allow me to do this, they repeated every 15 minutes only invigorated me. So, I dragged myself to the nurse, who at that time (about 11.30 pm) was already sound asleep. She came out in a nightie with curlers on her bangs (apparently she was getting ready to start her shift ). She wasn't entirely happy. I called the doctor (while I was calling the doctor, I stood in the corridor and swayed my hips - this somehow relieved the pain), the doctor looked at me (he was also sleepy). I felt sorry for him and said that I wouldn’t let him sleep . Another check of the cervix, oh mommies, someone told me that it’s not that painful. The doctor told me to wait another two hours and if nothing stops, then I should call them. I’m lying on the bed and wondering whether it started like this or not. Swaying my hips on the bed and hoping that further contractions will not be much more painful, and dreaming that in about 6 hours I will definitely give birth (naive rural girl). 3 am, nothing stopped, I went again. The doctor examined her and performed a CTG (this is a device that records contractions and the baby’s heartbeat). I told my sister to give me a Noshpa injection and an enema. She gave me the injection in the treatment room, where pregnant women were sleeping peacefully on the couches where IVs are usually placed, because there were no more places in normal rooms. In general, they gave me an enema... And I went to collect my belongings in the ward. They took me to the delivery room. Oh horror, should I give birth here too?! Delivery room number 4, two beds on the sides, which looked more like tables for storing corpses, and in the middle a large obstetric table “for torture”. And two rubber balls in the corner, one of which I actively used... in my opinion, yellow or green?

Moreover, in the corridor I met that little woman with a big belly, she began to give birth at the same time, but I didn’t hear any screams or anything... In general, after probably 30 minutes she gave birth to a son, weighing more than 4 kg, with She is 150 cm tall and probably weighs 40 kg.
In general, I lay in this delivery room from three o’clock, constantly running to the toilet. Then I heard a girl in the next delivery room screaming, “I’m about to crap myself!” She repeated this phrase several times, and then I heard the doctor’s voice addressing the nurse, “Please take it away. Yes, this happens." The girl came from home and was already 9 cm dilated, so she gave birth quickly. And I, hobbling to the toilet with contractions, peeked into the ward and envied that someone had already finished everything. And then, at about 9 in the morning, I met a woman in the same corridor - my other roommate in the ward (then she said that why did our first-time girl - a roommate in the Regional Pathology say “meet me in the maternity hospital”), who at that time was due I think 36 weeks. At six, an uncle doctor came and decided to pierce my bladder so that the process would go faster. He suggested that I pierce it even earlier so that the contractions would go faster, but I got cold feet and refused. Before this I was told that it was not painful. But apparently it didn't work in my case. It hurt, and the baby didn't like it either. After 3 hours, it turned out that my cervix was still not dilating, and another team of doctors decided to put me on a drip with oxytocin. Well, here the birth is already controlled by these drops of oxytocin, and not by my body. I want to say that when the bladder was pierced, the contractions began to be very strong.
I walked around the room, swayed my hips, breathed, but it still hurt. And I shouted and persuaded the doctors to let my husband come. They allowed it, my husband arrived, unshaven, wearing the pants he usually sleeps in (nothing suitable was found =)). When they told me that my cervix had not opened, I felt very sorry for myself, especially when they told me that the contractions would be much more painful. Long story short, they put me on a drip, with which I spent most of the contractions hanging around the delivery room. And then the nightmare began. Contractions almost immediately, that is, from 9-10 o'clock, began almost 2 minutes later. In short, after an hour of such contractions, I was hanging on my husband’s neck or leaning against him, screaming that I couldn’t do it anymore! From such pain I could no longer hold back my scream. Misha was there all the time, sometimes reminding me how to breathe. He massaged me and blew air on me. He kissed me and told me how beautiful I was. Although in fact, I looked terrible - dirty, hungry, shaggy, in an incomprehensible nightie, which my mother apparently bought at the Vera garment factory. In general, according to old beliefs, a woman giving birth should take off everything that might constrain her - rings, earrings, hair bands, etc.

But the doctor who came into the room, seeing her husband, only asked displeasedly, “Why are we having a partner birth here?”

The pregnancy was easy... That’s what it seemed to me and that’s what the doctors at the antenatal clinic said... I’m gaining a lot of weight: - “Eat less”, “So I’m already on a strict diet!!!... In response, silence... appeared increased hairiness: “If you give birth, everything will pass!”, etc.

Mom agreed that I would show myself to experienced doctors at the best maternity hospital in our city, and through connections, so to speak, I would give birth there. And so at 37 weeks I came with an exchange, the doctor looked at the tests, my beard, my +35 kg and sent me to an endocrinologist. It turned out that I had a hormonal imbalance, in addition to my weight and hair, I developed gestational diabetes mellitus... Then I still did not understand what this meant, and I did not understand anything when they put me on preservation and every day they did a CTG and an ultrasound through day... Well, if they don't say anything, then everything is fine...

And so we lie with the girls in the ward, discussing how childbirth goes, what contractions happen. I’m so afraid of these contractions, but I’m looking forward to them, I talk to my son, I call him... I go to bed, close my eyes and imagine that my water has broken, that the contractions have begun, stronger and stronger, I’m roaring, screaming, yelling, son. is born... I am the happiest in the world, exhausted, they put him on my chest, my joy...

It’s 3 o’clock at night, I get up to go to the toilet, a trickle runs down my leg, I don’t understand anything because I’m sleepy, maybe it’s hot and it’s sweat? Maybe she wet herself a little, after all, it’s already 39 weeks and 5 days - the baby is putting a lot of pressure on the bladder?

At 6:30 the same thing, at 9:00 I go for a smear test, tell the nurse, and take water tests. I had breakfast and lay down again, feeling great...

Around 11-00 they come: “Get ready, let’s go give birth!”

I have a panic, where are the contractions, where is the pain, something is wrong, it’s scary!

They did an ultrasound, incomprehensible words - diabetic fetopathy, premature rupture of amniotic fluid... enema... I’m sitting on the toilet, calling my mother, roaring... my husband calls, just today he was going to bring things to the postpartum room, I say come... I I even saw him before giving birth...

The doctors came, I don’t remember, maybe 5-7 people, a consultation, so to speak, the decision was a caesarean... I’m scared, I’m roaring like a beluga, my husband calls, he’s also roaring, I’m even stronger...

I’m not ready for the operation, I don’t know anything about it, anesthesiologist...

They lead me into the operating room, I go in, and two meters away from me a woman’s stomach is being stitched up, and I see it all... IVs, injections, some kind of equipment is connected, spinal anesthesia, just to see the baby...

An injection, I lie down, a curtain, they cut my stomach - it doesn’t hurt, it’s not scary... I feel like they put their hands in my stomach and stir it...

I’m scared, I’m screaming, I’m roaring, the doctors are screaming at me. Crying... where is my baby? Where is my son? Everything floated, the mask, the oxygen, and as it turned out later, blood loss began. The baby was taken away, they began to resuscitate me...

I’m lying in intensive care, pain, terrible pain, I hate everyone, and I don’t need a phone, I don’t want to talk to anyone, the nurse said height, weight... The pediatrician comes - they tell all the mothers about the dolls, it’s okay, who had the operation, how, I was the last one, they don’t come to me... Doctors, doctors, pain, terrible pain, IVs, catheter, machines are connected, put on the drug... They put it on - 30 minutes and again the pain, I try to turn around, pain, I can’t sit down, nurses They tease me, I get up, the floor is above, the ceiling is below, my head is spinning, everyone is being transferred from the intensive care unit to the postpartum wards, I’m not there...

They bring another girl, the pediatrician comes, tells her about her child, but they don’t tell me anything... And I keep crying and crying, almost a day has passed, I feel like a complete insignificance, I want to die, everything hurts... I don’t know anything about child.

Mom arrives, makes a scandal, the pediatrician comes: “Diagnosis of diabetic fetopathy, the child is born at term, but underdeveloped, a heart or lung defect, for example... Now your child is in intensive care!

Then they transfer me to a clinic for examination, I don’t understand anything, I’m crying, I hate myself. I saw him after 1.5 days and then 5 minutes and in the incubator...

What about the checkout? I’m happy, our dad, relatives... and then the most terrible 2 weeks of my life, tears, pain, humiliation of doctors, they say it’s her own fault, sick mother, wanted a healthy child?

The milk has disappeared, the stitch has festered, the baby needs care, and I’m barely alive...

All this is in the past, but it will always remain in my memory, how difficult it is for our beloved children...

My Nikita is now 4 months old, he is my sunshine! Not a single diagnosis was confirmed! He is the most beautiful in the whole world!!