It’s not a good idea to decline

My name is Militza, I’m 32 years old and this is a brief version of the story around my daughter’s birth.

During the night of the 21st(going for 22nd) February 2008 is when the first symptoms showed that the time for my daughter to be born has arrived. Over the next 24 hours, I gradually started feeling more frequent and stronger pains, but I didn’t even think of going to the hospital as I didn’t have regular contractions yet. I kept looking for things do to pass the time, and bit by bit I started feeling the contractions. The pain was quite bearable, I assume due to the fact that I didn’t stop moving. During the night of the 22nd, the contractions became quite close, 1, 2 or 5 minutes apart. Family members were asking if we should be heading for the hospital already, but I was quite calm and preferred to spend time with them, rather than in the hospital, where I would be surrounded by strangers. Despite that, around 3am on February 23rd, I decided that it’s time to head for the hospital, since it was an hour drive away.

I was admitted into First OB/GYN Hospital „St. Sofia“ (previously Tina Kirkova) at 4am. On admission, I was told I was 5cm dilated, my husband (as per regulations in Bulgarian hospitals) stayed outside, since I hadn’t engaged a particular team of doctors for the birth. I was given the form for Informed Consent to sign. While I read it (since that was the first time I saw it) the admitting nurse told me it’s not a good idea to decline it – there had been recently one such woman, who thought she knew a lot about birth and didn’t sign it, and then they had to save her life. As it goes, I signed it and I was given an enema, even though I thought my body had already cleansed itself.

Following all the admittance procedures, I was taken to the pre-birthing unit, I was placed into a bed and tied up with the belts used to monitor the baby’s heart rate – that meant I couldn’t move at all. I’d like to note that up until this moment, my labour was quite easy with very bearable pain. However I was constantly moving, I’d get into any position that was comfortable for me and I was surrounded by people close to me. I was about to find out what a classic hospital birth was all about. Right after the belts, I was given an IV with oxytocin, my waters were artificially broken and of course the effect of those procedures didn’t delay – the labour became extremely painful. The worse part was that I wasn’t allowed to move – I tried to sit up and the doctor in charge immediately told me that if I wanted to deliver, I must lay back down. A few hours after admission, I asked that I was untied, so I can go to the bathroom. I was asked if I needed to urinate, they brought the bedpan in bed because I wasn’t allowed to get up. The bedpan of course, stayed unused – there was no chance for me to use it in a room with 4 more women in labour and a few other people. While I was laying down, waiting for the legendary 10cm, the doctor in charge gave me a number of extremely painful dilation examinations, accompanied by a few rude remarks from him, since the first time I didn’t expect it to be that painful and I almost jumped.

Around lunch time I was at the end of my strength, agonizing with pain, unable to move due to the belts and with no chance to even have a sip of water as it wasn’t allowed. Around 1pm another female doctor came over, who examined me for dilation again but at least she did it more humanely and without causing me the terrible pain from the earlier exams. She asked me if I had any urges to push and I said no, however she said I was 10cm dilated and to try to push in the bed. I started pushing and she said it would be better if I move to the stirrups bed instead. I moved, I had a catheter placed since my bladder was full and that’s when the big pushing started. A few people were screaming at me to push, I was pushing (I have haemorrhoids as a reminder of it), but how can you push when you have no urges. Following are remarks that I’m not doing anything and one addressed to the doctor from the morning „Doctor, it won’t happen without you“. The doctor came over, I had no idea what was in store for me. I was told to push and at this point the doctor jumped on me, I screamed like I never thought I could, the pain is unbelievable. Only the baby’s head had come out… After I got back to my senses a little, I started begging them not to jump on my abdomen again, that I will push with everything I can, and I did but again nothing happened. So that was followed by another jump on my abdomen. Then I just remember hearing „Hey, what a beautiful girl“. I remember almost nothing from the next few minutes. I only started coming to when they brought my baby, dressed, they showed her to me for a few seconds and took her away. They started stitching me up, and since I wasn’t even making a bleep there were remarks „That’s better, but what were those screams earlier, how could I scream that way“. While I was being stitched up, I started shaking from the cold, but that was no reason to later on be left in a corridor for half an hour while they find a bed for me. Two women from the staff helped me get into the bed and changed me with the following comment „What’s this slaughter here“, as I was covered in blood all over. I lay down on the bed, planning to go look for my baby as soon as I could, but I decided to lay there for a bit since I was afraid I’d fall. I must have fallen asleep and at one point I became aware that I was screaming at the top of my lungs – I was just dreaming of the birth, I got startled and saw that the other three women in the room were looking at me with fear. I decided I feel better, I got up and went to look for my baby. Fortunately, they gave her to me – I was so afraid that when they saw what I looked like, they would refuse to give her to me. I took her and so we were united at last.

Regrettably, there are two things which make me sad even now. One is that because of the unearthly pain I felt following the jumping on my abdomen, I can hardly remember the first few minutes of my child’s life – it felt like I wasn’t conscious. The other thing is that before my admission into the hospital, I wasn’t afraid of birth and wanted to have two kids. After the birth, however, I’m afraid to even think about it. The good thing is that time heals, at least to an extent.

To give birth to an angel

On 20th of April 2009 – ironically it was one of the biggest Christian holidays – Easter (hence the name Vela *Note: Easter in Bulgarian in called Velikden*), I went to the Veliko Turnovo’s maternity ward, so I can give birth to my little daughter and to finally embrace and kiss her. It never came to pass…

I had a very easy pregnancy and no indications for a caesarean. In fact, the doctor told me that the baby is big but she would try to deliver it vaginally and only if that didn’t work out, she would consider a caesarean.

Everything was going well, labour started quickly and came easily, but the problem happened in the very last moment when I was in the delivery suite… My actual delivery lasted about one and a half hours. It turned out there was a problem – the baby wasn’t coming out. They started pushing on my abdomen. Horrible cutting was taking place(episiotomy) and still the baby couldn’t come out. At this point I had no strength left. But I was told there’s no going back and the baby needs to come out „one way or another“. Even the midwife was flouting and telling the doctors not to intervene, as after all „birth is a natural physiological process“. However, in the end two doctors simultaneously jumped on my abdomen and the little one shot out just like a cork.

She was taken off somewhere and I wasn’t told anything about her. I just heard that she cried very softly, but not immediately after she was born. In the mean time I was in seventh heaven, I was so happy I had given birth. Later on it turned out that it was then my darkest days had begun. For 6 hours, nobody bothered to give me any information about my child. I asked the midwife, which at some point decided to bestow her presence on me, how my baby is and why I can’t have her with me. She replied in a cold-blooded manner, that she isn’t authorised to give me any details regarding this!

Eventually, one of the one of the neonatal doctors showed up and told me that my daughter was in a critical condition. I was told she had pneumonia, serious neurological problems and cephalohematomas all over her head. Then she declared that I could go and visit my child only the following day, because visits were only allowed within certain times.

In the end, as it turned out, Vela wasn’t able to move her limbs, she didn’t have any swallowing or suckling reflexes, her breathing was very shallow and laboured and because of that she was plugged into a ventilator with oxygen. We were never given a diagnosis, but we were told that the outlooks for her life were very grim. That she probably had a broken skull, which resulted in damage to her brain function.

My daughter was called VELA and I gave birth to her in the Veliko Turnovo Hospital with Dr. Panyova. I WAS a mother for 5 weeks only – my little daughter died as a result of birth trauma… There are many other cases where children are disabled both physically and mentally after a normal birth and they suffer for the rest of their lives. In those cases doctors recommend that the child is given away to an institution where it can be raised… The other option is that you receive training in how to dedicate your life to a disabled and hopeless life… In our case they told us that what happened was the best outcome for both the child and us… How could they see anything good and beneficial in having to bury your child?!

I thought I’d never share this…

This is a story I thought I would never share. One, that I have been desperately trying to forget… for a year. An experience, that I wouldn’t wish upon anyone…

What inspired me to start sharing my story were the tears of a woman, who had a similar experience to mine… I call it rape. Rape by a team of doctors.

What inspired me to complete it, was the current topic of discussion, and especially the things I read in the last few pages. For example, how when you pay (a bribe) you would receive a better service. Or how the next rape victim provoked the doctors. Or how the doctors were just doing their job, it’s just that some of them were missing „the first seven years“.
If only it was just some of them Mr.Doctor – they would have been kicked out and forgotten they were ever qualified doctors… I don’t mind if you don’t reply to me, it would be enough to just think about this.

This story will probably sound familiar to anyone who has experienced a traumatic birth. It may even sound familiar to those who have only given birth in a Bulgarian hospital, even if everything ended up fine.

It’s a story, which might be a good idea for anyone in their first pregnancy to avoid reading. On the other hand, the opposite might also be true. It’s not a bad thing when one knows what to expect, so they can be prepared. Then the shock of it all will be less severe. I don’t know. Everyone has to decide for themselves. The topic is obvious.

The night before the birth
My husband and I were having a stroll through the park, when I felt my first contractions. We had dinner with friends. Silently, I’m happy that the time is coming and I’m worried about what would happen if I have to call the doctor in the middle of the night. I spent the night walking between the bedroom and the bathroom, wondering if what I’m feeling are really contractions.

D-Day, in the morning
I told my husband, who immediately made me ring the doctor. I called and explained, that I’ve been having pains since the night before, and right now they were about 5-6 minutes apart – probably contractions, but I’m not really sure. „Why didn’t you call earlier?“, he asked, „I was working night shift“. „Well… I’m sorry, I hadn’t thought of that possibility“… „OK, come to my private practice around 4pm, there we’ll see what this is all about“. I was quite surprised, but didn’t dare to oppose him. We sat down for a cup of coffee. I couldn’t care less about it, my tummy and back hurt really bad, once every 3-4 minutes. It must have been obvious, because my husband suggested we head for the hospital, regardless of what the doctor had said. I agreed. I thought that maybe there, they can record what’s happening and then we can leave. It wasn’t meant to go that way. While we waited in queue for admission, the pains started coming every 2 minutes or so. When they tied me to the bed a few minutes later, the midwife told me off „Girl, you’re giving birth already, your contractions are every 2 minutes, can’t you feel them!“. She didn’t even wait for a reply – „C’mon, get on the chair here so the doctor can examine you and then we’re taking you upstairs.“  Where are you taking me, people? What’s upstairs? What do you mean ‘here on the chair’? – the room was full of people. Was I supped to spread my legs in front of all of them? I don’t want to. On top of that, I’m worried about what my doctor would say – at that point I had no idea they’re all part of the same gang… „What do you mean you don’t want to – you’ll give birth in front of the door then?“ the midwife kept screaming at me „There’s no such thing as ‘don’t want to’, we can’t let you go with these contractions“. „How come you can’t let me go? I’ll sign whatever is necessary…“

In the end, they did examine me. It was all in public of course – there was a woman on the bed having her contractions recorded, plus so many others, constantly coming in and out. I was with 4+cm dilation. „My doctor“ demanded that they prepare me for delivery, and my husband went to fetch him.

11 o’clock, admission to hospital
It was then that I felt like I was just an object in the hands of strangers, something they would „prepare for delivery“ (whatever that meant)… Well, I told myself, my doctor will be here soon and it will be different with him. I got over the scraping with the rusty razor (not that there was anything for them to shave, but that’s the rules – they have to scrape, full stop). I also got over the cold water enema and headed for the bathroom. I had whole 5 minutes, before they started banging on the door „C’mon, what are you up to in there, get out“ (as if you could do that sort of business by the clock). I’ve never been to the army, but that’s just how I’d imagine it is… I came out, otherwise they were going to come in – the door, of course, had no locks…

I started to undress, quite unwillingly, as people kept coming in and out of the room – pregnant women, doctors, midwives, and whoever else you can think of, including dads who poked their head in from time to time – who cares about personal space, women in labour are not entitled to that. My attempt to put on the gown, was met with group laughter from the staff  „Hahaha, look at her, she’s gonna be delivering wearing her panties and bra“.

I was handed a bunch of forms to sign. „What is this?“ I asked. „Standard papers. Just sign, there are others waiting“. So I sign, what else is there for me to do… And so, here I am – „prepared“ according to all rules of the art, not to mention with tears in my eyes, scared to death and dreaming only of running far, far away from this place where everyone treats me as if I’m a product on the conveyor belt in a factory for babies. I don’t know why, but the hospital gown only made the panic which suddenly took over me, worsen. When I said goodbye to my husband, I felt like I’ve been dressed in a prisoner’s outfit and I’m about to be taken off to my cell…

12 o’clock – Pre-delivery unit
And so, here I am, in my cell. Still wearing my sandals, in the crowd and in the midst of the sneers in the admittance room, no one thought of letting me know I can put on some slippers… Nothing different waited for me „upstairs“. They pointed me at a bed, and ordered me to lie down. „Can I walk around instead?“, I asked. I hadn’t read anything about walking around, but the thought of me staying put there was really unpleasant. Not allowed. I attempted to take my mobile phone out, I desperately needed to talk to someone, do anything to distract me from my dark thoughts. Wasn’t to be… „And turn your phone off, did you think you were home or what!“, came the usual angry instructions, followed by „Give me your hand“. I obediently put my hand out, which was immediately stuck with some needle. „Wait, what are you giving me?“. „It doesn’t matter, this is how it’s done here. And we’ll give you whatever the doctor says“ was the kind explanation given to me. His majesty My Doctor showed up. He examined me, showering me with the next storm of pain and traumatising sensations, and declared that he had a suspicion there might be „something“. Considering everything I had to put up with to this point, this teaser completely finished me, and he refused to elaborate or explain any further. He commanded what I should be administered via IV, he broke my water and declared that I will be „done“ by 2 o’clock. But of course – he had appointments in his private practice to get to… Later on, I found out that he told my husband the same – he had told him to go have a drink and come back around 2 o’clock. And so, I was left in the pre-delivery unit, seized by pain, humiliated and scared. There was another agonizing woman in the bed next to mine, which from time to time was being encouraged with words like „If you don’t like being in pain, why did you make a second baby so soon, huh?!?!“. I wanted to move, that eased the pain, and go to the toiled too, but I was tied to the bed because of the IV. In an hour I couldn’t take it anymore. I way begging them just so they let me go to the toilet (something so humiliating, which I haven’t had to do even back in school), until one of the midwives felt sorry for me and took my IV off for a while. This earned me 5 minutes of peace, before they started knocking on the door… And back I go, tied to the bed, agonizing and wondering if all of this is ever going to end… I had to beg again, beg the ones which due to circumstances had complete power over me at this moment – I was dying of thirst, my lips were dry and painfully cracked. I wasn’t given water to drink, but that same kind midwive (the only one around) agreed to wet my lips with a bit of water which was a horrible tease – I could have eaten the gauze she used to wet my lips… At some point, I felt like going to the bathroom again. I told the midwife and they decided that I’m having delivery urges. They instructed me to push for a bit, while I was in bed. I was pushing… I heard someone exclaim how come I wasn’t given an enema (the second time around I gave birth with no enema and despite that, I didn’t have any such accidents).  I was in so much pain and felt completely frozen with fear. I was told to go to the delivery unit. A midwive tried to object – she told the doctor to let me push for a bit while I’m standing up or squatting. Who the hell is she to be making suggestions…

Around 13 o’clock, Delivery Unit
I was on the stirrups table, and there… there the tortures really reached their culmination. A culmination, which turned the day supposed to be one of the happiest days of my life, in one of my biggest nightmares. A lot of people gathered around me, all of them screaming „Puuuuush!“, „You’re not doing anything!“, „You’ll kill your baby!“, among other things. I heard that „my“ doctor turned for help to one of his colleague, because he had a bigger body build. Soon, I found out what he meant. The colleague in question, with no warning, threw himself on my abdomen. I got so scared that he would kill my baby, and I don’t know how but I gathered enough strength to rise a bit and push him off of me. Then the rest of the people in his team came to his rescue – some pinned me down to the bed, others held my hands tight. At this point I didn’t know if I was dead or alive – I started begging to have them cut me open and take the baby out. At one point I lost consciousness for a bit. A moment later, the next anonymous person in a while coat was standing over me, holding a syringe and asking the rest „Should I put her away?“.

Some time later
I woke up form a deep sleep with faint memories of the moments before I went to sleep. I looked around. There was no-one present. I don’t know why, it must have been a subconscious association, but the hall reminded me of a slaughter house, which has just been cleaned up….
I couldn’t move – I felt strong pain and was nauseous. Baby was nowhere to be heard or seen. There were all kind of thoughts floating around in my head – every thought worse than the next. At one point, a woman in a coat showed up. „What happened?“, I asked. „Don’t you see, you have a baby?“, she angrily blurted out – „You have a wrist-band with a number“. She probably expected me to have guessed… „They pulled it out with a forceps“. „I want to see him“. „Now?!“ – as if I was asking for the most unnatural and impossible thing in the world…

Not long after, I was taken to a room in the ward and I was left alone – alone with myself and my tears. I didn’t know where my child was, what was happening with him, I didn’t know what had happened to me – I only knew that I was literally gutted out – that, I could feel… „My doctor“ didn’t find it necessary to wait for me to wake up, to talk to me about what had happened, why it happened or what I could expect. He had appointments to make, in his private practice. My husband was allowed to come in for a little bit – I’ve never seen him more distraught. I didn’t know what to think. And then I was left alone again…

In the following days
In the next few days my humiliation continued, again and again, over and over, in an unending string of events, which I wish I could forget but I doubt I ever will be able to…

I made requests to the paediatrics unit to see my baby, to be told anything about him. „He put on 5 grams“ – that was the most I could get out of them, „but he isn’t well and we can’t give him to you“.
„To breastfeed?! That’s absurd!“. My breasts were as hard as stone and terribly sore, I got fever – „It’s normal, go ask some new mother to show you how to use the pump“. The breast milk I managed to pump out, I threw away in the sink…
Examinations were done in front of anyone from the neighbouring block of flats to see – no-one thought of closing the curtain.

The accident with a bowel movement I had, in the middle of the room after I was given laxatives and wasn’t warned about what I could expect after the rape. And I was told off over and over again by orderlies and midwives, as if it wasn’t enough that I was worrying about how I would live the rest of my life if I have such accidents now…

My attempt to sit in the wooden chair in the paediatrics unit, on my torn bottom, so I can breastfeed my baby. And how they pulled him out of my hands in 10min, just after he had begun to suckle…

The shock I experienced when I saw myself „down there“ for the first time.

The screams, which I had to put up with, because the day before we were released, when I finally had my baby with me I dared to change his nappies because he had soiled the old ones. „Do you think you’re home or what?!“. No, I’m not… unfortunately… and I should have been… If I was home, none of this would have happened…

When I left the hospital, I really felt like I was leaving prison, after I’ve served my sentence.

„The something“ my doctor suspected – Improper presentation of the foetus. My research later on showed, that there were serious reasons to suspect this during the very first examination and even before that. It also showed that all interventions administered to speed up delivery (including the stress I went through) have contributed to what happened.

„What happened“ – The baby’s head getting stuck in the birth canal, swelling on his head, and a barbarian „live-saving“ (when his life was endangered by the doctors in the first place) forceps delivery.

„The consequences“
The baby: APGAR 5, enormous cephalohematoma, seizures and hemorrhaging, systems phenobarbital, antibiotics and other pretty things, bad case of jaundice. transfontanelle ultrasonography 20 days after birth – expanded ventriculi, cysts which had to be monitored. Spasticity on one side of his body, then suspicions for cerebral palsy, one year of difficulties and uncertainties (until he learned to walk and talk), recommendations to be monitored until school age for later consequences.
These are just the direct consequences. I’m not even going to mention all the intangible ones.

The Mother: Fourth degree tears, stitched up un-block and however appropriate (quoting the doctor). Three months of going for wound cleaning and change of bandages in the same doctors office, with crowds of visitors and assurance how the wounds are healing slowly, but properly. Later on, it turned out that nothing healed properly. This includes some of the not-so-pleasant details like fistulas, prolapses, muscles which don’t function well and so on, as well as all discomforts associated with them. A serious surgery was necessary later on to correct the above, if at all possible.
These again, are just direct physical consequences. The intangible consequences are not mentioned, since most people consider them funny and/or silly – in the end of the day what matters is we’re alive and kind of healthy, right?

My traumatic birth

This is a woman’s story of her second birth. During her first birth she was left with a recto-vaginal fistula. After searching out information about labor with her specific issue, she wanted to have a gentle birth with no interventions, which could bring to a minimum the risks of further damage to her body and those to her baby.

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Around 10 o’clock in the evening of  21st of October 2009 me, my daughter and my husband went to bed. The little one really didn’t want to go to bed, so I was prepared for a long breastfeeding session. We were lying like that, all three of us, when suddenly I felt like something started to leak from me. „Oh,no, again! It shouldn’t start like that“ I told myself. My previous birth started the same way, but this time it was very important for my waters to break as late as possible because of the recto-vaginal fistula which was left from my last labour. I told my husband what is happening, because there was no way for him not to know and all of us got up. I did tell him that I am not going to the hospital until I get strong regular contractions. I got in to have a shower and stayed there longer on purpose, then started to get the bag ready and spent some time walking between the rooms. I put some water to boil to steep some calendula to wash myself down there and to make rosehip tea to drink during the birth and after.

We called my mom and my mother in law to come and watch our daughter. They came around 11 o’clock and were surprised that we are not ready to leave. Yet again, I explained that I will not go before I feel stronger and regular contractions. I was starting to feel some barely painful contractions, but I didn’t time them and continued to wonder around. After awhile, maybe around midnight) the contractions were more frequent and were becoming painful. I continued to walk and to talk to my mom, who was shaking and was amazed at my relaxed state. She could see that I felt the pains and could figure out exactly when the contractions were happening but couldn’t comprehend how right after them I just continued to talk to her and to finish what I had started to do. Around half past midnight they had become more frequent and she got scared that I will give birth and started to pressure me to go. Until then my husband would come in every 5 minutes to say „Come on, lets go already!“. It was imposed and we left.

I traveled in the back seat of the car, on my knees leaning on the boot. My husband was driving too fast, which was very unpleasant, especially during a contraction. Unfortunately when we arrived at the hospital and we got in, I felt that the contractions had slowed down and the pain had subsided. It was obvious the fear of hospitals was having an effect already…

We went to be admitted. There was another woman there and they were taking their time, thanks to which my contractions started up again. My mother was stroking me on the back, which really helped with the pain and in between the surges we chatted and joked around.

I was admitted around 1:30am. The midwife examined me, shaved me and gave me an enema. When I asked „Can I not be shaved?“, the answer was „Well, how are you going to give birth without being shaved?!“. I was 6cm dilated. Along came one very young doctor to fill my documents and when I told him my waters had broken at 10:30pm his reaction was „And you are coming just now!? Don’t you know that you have to be in the hospital up to an hour after the waters break!“. I replied that I knew about the 24 hour rule, but that I had taken that long because it took some time to pack.
The enema was working and I went to the toilet with the bottle of steeped calendula , the contents of which was questioned by the two of them, followed by a sneer in between them. Naturally, there was no warm water. From my last birth, which was a night one as well, I knew that in this hospital they economize on warm water during the night. Still, I had hoped that in 2 years something might have changed, but alas…So long, warm compresses on my perineum.

I returned to the room where they were waiting for me to sign the „informed consent“, I refused and from that point on things became horrible. First they tried to convince me that I cant not sign, but in the end they led me into the pre-delivery unit when I asked that they give me a document to sign that I take all the responsibilities for my actions and the things I am refusing. I thought I had won and I found a comfortable pose in the bed when all kinds of doctors, midwives and other people started to come in and to scream at me about refusing to sign and to threaten me that they will kick me out if I don’t do it. They asked me what exactly don’t I agree with. I started to list – IV line just in case, oxytocin, continuous monitoring, vaginal exams, episiotomy.. I could have gone on, but somebody interrupted me with „Since you are not agreeing with these things, what are you doing in the hospital?! Go give birth at home!!!“

In the meantime a midwife asked me to do a record of the fetal heart rate. I agreed, because she was really kind and even though she didn’t understand me she was trying to make contact with me without shouting and offending me. She was the only one there which treated me as a human being and was trying to show some understanding. I barely made it on my back for 15 minutes and as it hurt more, I kept on wiggling. All the while different people were raising their voices at me and talked about me as though I was not there, just because I didn’t sign. In the end the doctor said to call my husband, because he wanted to talk to him. It was becoming clear to me that they would force me to sign. I called and not long after they asked me to go to the admission room. There was my husband, who started to beg me to sign and said that he had talked to the doctor that they will follow my requests and will not do anything without my consent. I signed and felt a bit of hope that they will leave me to give birth actively and naturally…All of this was happening in between regular painful contractions which were hard to get through amongst the constant attacks, questions by people, which were talking to me or were asking me to do something…

I returned on the bed on an all fours position with slightly opened up legs, in which the pain was bearable. In the room there were three other women, one of which I think was on an IV and was strapped to a fetal monitor. Next to her was a midwife, which she was seemingly ackuainted with. The woman was in obvious pain. I tried to ignore everything, which was really hard, at times impossible. After a little while I felt the pushing urges starting. In the meantime the woman with the midwife had reached 10cm dilation with the help of a lot of shoving down there and a lot of pain.

They moved her to the birthing unit and all of the staff when there with her. Then I managed to relaxed and to go along with the birth. The pushes were starting to get stronger and stronger and with each contraction I was trying not to go with them, because I felt that I haven’t opened up enough and its early for the baby. I felt with one of the contractions that I had some excrement. After the end of it  I stood up and went to the bathroom to wash myself. The cold water affected me badly. There I had another contraction and I returned to the room. They had changed the sheet and my midwife was at the door. She said that since there is excrement that means that the head had started to move and is pressing on the rectum. She said „You are having pushing urges, aren’t you?“, there was no way to lie. It was obvious that I was. I returned to the same pose and she asked „Are the pushes in the beginning or at the end of the contractions?“. I knew that if I say that they are in the beginning they will put me on the stirrups, that is why I said that its towards the end. She said to call when it becomes in the beginning and went with the woman that was giving birth in the birthing unit. From there one could hear the personnel’s favorite  „Push, push, push!“, „Come on, come on, come on!“, „Come on, just a little more“, „Come on, one more time!“, and the woman was screaming „I cant anymore!“… The directions for her to push went alongside my urges and while she was pushing I was trying not to.

I felt that the moment was coming closer and it was getting harder to fight the pushing urges, but I was doing it, because I felt that if I go with it I would tear (I felt strong stretching down there and slight burning sensation with a push helped by me). I just needed a bit more time, so the head of the baby can stretch the tissues slowly and for it to be able to come out without tearing me. Unfortunately in the meantime the woman in the next room had given birth and everyone came back to the pre-birthing room. The midwife started asking me again about the pushes and to convince me to check me for dilation. I couldn’t talk and just shook my head ‘no’. She felt that I am giving birth, took a look between my legs and shouted „She is giving birth already!“. Suddenly all of them ran to me and started to pull me to go to the chair with stirrups with the words „You will kill your child! You will sit on it and suffocate it!“ and other similar wise comments…I was begging them to leave me alone and was pulling away. Somebody said „There is no time for the stirrups, lie on your back now, you will give birth in the bed!“ I said to leave me alone that I don’t want to be on my back, I don’t want like that…They took my arms and legs and turned me over on my back against my will and in the most violent way. I was trying to get up, but a lot of hands were pushing and shoving me to lie. They started to shout at me to push, that I will suffocate my child and such, the midwife entered me to „get it out“ and my hell was now complete… My urges and contractions of course stopped, I was fighting with them… The doctor started to lean on my stomach with hands and to push the baby. I straight away started to push his hands away and to tell him not to touch my stomach. He was removing my hands and I saw he needed little more to start to hit me, but was restraining so far. He said that I shouldn’t dare touch his hands and be in his way. I continued, as I didn’t want him to push my baby, but I saw that things were getting worst and worst and started to try and push, to get everything done with… Unfortunately I had no pushing urges and what I did was not enough. I tried to lift myself a little bit, but they told me to lie and push.. They were all screaming at me and pushing me… At the end someone said „This is not working, we need to cut her! She is not pushing, the baby will suffocate!“. Suddenly I saw somebody bringing scissors in a pan and said „Nooooo…“ and out of nowhere, like a miracle, a pushing urge came to me. With all my might I pushed as hard as I could.. The baby came out straight away and started to cry very loudly. I saw her, she was pink, big and beautiful, my little daughter…I tried to lift myself up and take her, but somebody cut the cord immediately and took her away.. All of them were surrounding me again and started to pull on me to stand up and to go to the chair with stirrups so they could „take out“ the placenta. I said, I will birth it myself, just wait for me. They didn’t leave me, took me to the chair and started to push on my stomach. I said they could just wait, it will come out by itself. I heard somebody say „Who will wait for you, we don’t have time to wait on you..“

The whole time I was asking about my baby, I was begging them to give her to me, to hug her, to see her at least..they said she weighs 3650g and is 50cm. They gave her to me for just about 5 minutes, all wrapped up, but without a hat. She was crying and the moment I took her, she stopped. I kissed her and talked to her, she was looking at me… I heard „That’s enough.“ and I realized that I didn’t offer her to nurse and now they will take her away. Quickly I tried to put her on my breast, but on the stirrups, lying down, it was really uncomfortable. Somebody said „Its just born and she is trying to make him suckle! How will it suck, it cant yet!“ and they were laughing at me.

The placenta came out (along with it was a bit of extra placenta) and straight away I started to bleed. They all got scared and in a panic started to try and stop the bleeding. It hurt a lot while they were reaching inside me and pressing and I started to beg for them to sedate me, there was nothing else I needed to fight for. I felt raped and humiliated. Somebody said „Didn’t you want everything natural, without drugs, now thats why you wont get anaesthetics, you will endure the stitching“ , „There, you wanted to give birth naturally, look now how you have torn yourself up!“ and other offensive statements like „she is crazy, needs a psychiatrist, she is for the loony bin, member of a sect“ and so on.

After a long battle, they stopped the bleed, but I had lost a lot of blood. They told me that my cervix had torn badly. They started to stitch and my other tears, which hurt a lot. Every once in a while they pushed and kneaded my stomach to make the uterus contract, after which new portions of blood poured out. The whole time I was really cold and was shivering. I was really thirsty, but they categorically refused to give me water. When they finished with the stitching they left me there a long time to shiver, while only the midwife remembered to bring me at least one blanket, which didn’t help much. They had put two IVs on, I think glucose and some with calcium etc. Periodically they would stick me for blood tests. For one of them my hemoglobin was 72. At one time I was feeling so badly, I thought I would lose conscience.

I gave birth at 3.25am and stayed in the room until about 6.30am. After that they moved me to a room across the birthing hall in which there were four beds and was used for all kinds of cases. I was still shivering and bleeding a lot, but when they moved me to the bed and wrapped me in two blankets, in just a few minutes I felt better and the bleeding reduced. In the room there was a woman after c-section which had to start moving, a woman with 4cm dilation, which was getting connected to an oxytocin drip and the fetal monitoring belts, while they were explaining to her that this way it will be faster, and a woman with broken waters and weak contractions and 1cm dilation, which was moved to the pre-delivery unit, probably to be hooked up to an IV. In her place came a woman for a planned c-section, which later on after I again argued with the staff and said how in Bulgaria the don’t know what is natural birth and how I regret I had come to the hospital, said that my words were stressing her out… Few more people came around to see who was that one that „whole night had played them around“, some were curiously questioning me, others just came to express their outrage. Along came an acquaintance of my mother in law to tell me how could I have behaved like that and bring her into discredit and that she was ashamed of me… I argued with her, but in the end I just said „One they you will see how right I was and how wrong you have been..“ and stopped talking in despair. When she was leaving I heard her saying to all present and the staff (which were listening in and chiming in on her behalf) that my husband, such a lovely and good boy, and on what woman he stumbled…

The morning went with a lot of forced births, IVs, vaginal exams, monitors, shouting of „Push!“, episiotomies and so on. I asked everyone who came in the room when they will move me in a room, so I can get my baby. There was no answer, except „it wont be soon“. They were waiting on some test from 9am to see if they will give me blood. Around 2pm they started to transfuse me two banks of blood . Even before that I felt fine and wanted to go to the toilet by myself. They didn’t allow me. I just got up to pee in the pan in the room. After the first bank, they let me in the toilet. I could eat and drink, and that’s what I did in the morning. Around 5pm they decided to  move me in a room. I was hoping that there will be one of the VIP rooms available, so I can have my family visit me, but in the next few days of waiting I realized that those who don’t pay for a team don’t get those rooms. Straight away when they moved me I went to take my daughter. Of course, they had filled her with formula, despite my requests not to give her anything, still we were separated 14 hours.. I can just imagine the stress she had lived through. I put her on my breast straight away and she sucked, badly, but still suckled. In the coming hours she cleared her tummy from the formula and we started to learn breastfeeding. I was disappointed that three times a day we had to leave the babies for their toilet, when in the morning it was written to leave them from 7am til 10am because it was doctor visiting time. At night from 9pm to 10pm was the toilet time. I took her in and asked that they don’t feed her anymore. We were three women in the room and only I kept  my daughter for the night. As far as the breastfeeding, I will not comment how lacking of knowledge mothers and staff are and how suspiciously they looked on my „strange“ advice. From the time I took my daughter we cuddled and slept together (I was given a warning that if I fall asleep I can crush or suffocate her). The next day I found out that I can bring her in for 8am til 10am and I could ask for the next two toilets for her to stay with me.

And since my tests were improving and my daughter – Plamena, started to gain (from 3500 to 3600) they discharged us on the third day. Finally we were home…

I will never forget this nightmare and still regret a lot of things and think „Only if I..“ „What if..“, but I will overcome the trauma. This was definitely better than my previous birth, during which the never ending „oxitocin“ contractions and stitches and episiotomy hurt much more and my recovery was much harder.