I think it was a double edged sword that this all happened where I work, with people I work with. In a lot of ways, I think that is actually what turned it into a psychological issue rather than just a bad experience. I had honestly felt really good about going into the OR with the team that I had, but the way things happened and the lack of communication both during and afterwards made me feel kind of betrayed, which made me more emotional about it. Going back to work was really when the panic attacks and flashbacks got out of control. I would run into them in the halls, hear their voices from another room, and BAM, I was back on the OR table. I was sweating. My heart was racing and my brain was spaghetti. I had so much word vomit built up, but a knot would build up in my throat and I could never say what I wanted to say.

Through my healing process and talking with other women who have had traumatic birth experiences, a common theme has been that nobody really talked to them about it afterwards, or debriefed the situation. ((Not that I should be surprised by this, I’ve spent about 40% of my nursing career begging doctors to come talk to their patients.)) Those who did have some debriefing really felt that it was a valuable experience. While it was difficult to have those conversations, I am glad that I did, and I feel lucky that I run into them every day so I did have the opportunity to go back four months later and say “hey guys, wtf happened??”

My therapist did point out to me at one point that I was kind of doing like a forced immersion therapy, although unintentional. I had to keep returning to the same place and running into the same people, usually randomly with no time to brace myself. I was so stuck in my head during maternity leave replaying what had happened ((or at least what I remembered of it)) and googling everything about spinals, and complications from spinals, and repeating spinals, and high spinals, etc., etc., etc. I was constantly replaying it and I regretted so much not standing up for myself in that moment. I was in such a panic I don’t even know what I said, if anything. But I wanted to say so much to them now.

I would run into them in the halls and smile awkwardly and want to spit out so much but my heart was in my throat. I would hear their voice from another room and there it was again… like a PVC a Pause and I’m gonna vom all at once. I was sweating and shaking, I couldn’t even start IVs, I was a mess. I finally went into my manager’s office and broke down. I told her everything that happened and just cried. She encouraged me to talk to them, to ask the questions that I needed answers to, and to tell them how it made me feel.

Russ was a little weary about me talking to them about it… he didn’t want me to make work a worse place to go. But it was so bad, I didn’t think I could keep going back there without getting it off my chest. I talked to my therapist about it, too. She suggested I start by writing them a letter, not to actually give them but to see if writing what I wanted to say would help me organize it all. I wrote the letter… but it was too nice. I know they didn’t mean to make me feel the way I did, and if they could go back they would probably try to make it less traumatic. With them in my head as my audience I didn’t say all I wanted to say.

Hence, the blog was born. It was so much easier to get it all my feelings with a neutral audience whose feelings I wasn’t worried about hurting.

After a lot of thought and a lot of run-ins with the residents who did my case… I finally sent one of them a message and just said it was really bothering me and asked if we could talk about it. It ended up escalating to the senior resident who actually did the spinal, and to the attending… which I knew it would, I was prepared to talk to all of them, although I guess not all at once. I guess I was kind of hoping for a more informal conversation. I just want to know what her birth was like. Of course I had medical questions too, but I didn’t want to talk about it like a patient, I wanted to talk about it like a nurse, and a coworker, and I never really got that. But I felt like the residents were really receptive.

The attending on the other hand, was pretty defensive which just pissed me off and I pretty much shut down after that. I don’t think she meant to be that way, but when she told me nobody is allowed to take pictures in the OR and she doesn’t even have pictures from her own c-section…. OHHHH LORDDDD did I have to bite my tongue. First of all, ALL of my friends delivered there, and I could scroll Facebook and pull SO many pictures from that same OR with the drapes still up and the OB working on the other side. SECOND of all, you were THERE for your c-section. I WASN’T. Maybe physically, but I literally have no memory of giving birth, like it didn’t even happen, and all I was told is that my daughter was screaming… A LOT. I honestly think pictures would have made this process so much easier. So I was really done with that conversation after that. I had honestly talked to enough people within the anesthesia field who said repeating spinal was very “attending dependent” that I was kind of ready for her to be defensive anyway. She did say that she tried to come up and talk to me but someone told her I was asleep… I don’t know if this is true or not, but I honestly think if someone just talked to me about it before I left the hospital and let me ask all my questions and relive it with me while it was still fresh in their minds, it would have made a world of difference.

Either way, I’m still glad I did it. It did answer some of my questions, even if I didn’t agree with the answers. It didn’t make it any less awkward to see them at work.. but not any more awkward either.

I never debriefed with the OB who did my C-section. She discharged me from the hospital initially. She was going to give me general C-section discharge instructions and I was like “uhhh time out, I wasn’t there for it, remember? Nobody has talked to me about what happened.” And she said “OOOHHHH Right, I almost forgot! From an OB perspective everything was textbook, it was just the anesthesia!” — Not really what I was wondering but okay, cool. I see her occasionally at work, too. She has no idea who I am or that she’s ever taken care of me, 100%.

I went to my initial post-op appointment with a different OB in the group, one other time for birth control where I broke down, and then avoided them like the plague until just recently when my birth control prescription ran out. I finally made another appointment when Taylor was 18 months, but I only wanted to see one doctor. He was the OB who I have seen since I was a teenager, and the one who delivered Mason. He walked into the exam room, 18 months after delivery, and said “how are you?” and I just started bawling. He said “I know, I read what happened”.

Eighteen months later and I can still cry at the drop of a dime. Sometimes I catch myself crying before I even realize I’m thinking about it. I’ve learned a lot of great techniques through therapy to bring myself back to the present and distract myself away from the flashbacks… but I know I cant do that all the time. So tonight, while I’m alone and awake at 3am… I’ll let myself think about it, process it, blog about it, and cry…. and I’m okay with that.

I have heard that some hospital’s offer debriefing services. I don’t know if they do where I delivered, but it was never offered to me as a patient. Once I started talking about it as a nurse, and word kind of spread a little, it was offered to me. But I feel like it is kind of useless at this point. It won’t be fresh in their minds anymore. So as uncomfortable as it is, I recommend anyone to ask for it!