u/Just_Afternoon_8542

Currently 8 days postpartum after a traumatic emergency c-section and I’m losing my shit.

I hate my life and I hate my husband.

Despite still recovering from major surgery I am pretty much on my own. Doing way too much and I can feel it but I don’t have any other option. He does help with some feeding/changing during the day but is useless at night. I am up every 2 hours pumping as baby was in the NICU and will not latch. I’m so tired I’m delusional. He’s snoring next to me and has gotten 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep because he’s “so tired”. Plus a nap in the evening. Yesterday was the same and he woke up complaining that he still doesn’t feel like he’s getting enough sleep.

I’m ready to give up. I’d rather be alone. It wouldn’t make a difference. We have no family or friends in the area.

I’m tired of looking at his fucking face. He gets 12 weeks of paternity leave and has done fuck all this whole time besides eat, sleep and play video games. Even when he is “watching the baby” he’s playing video games with the baby on his chest. I’m sad I married a fucking loser. I can’t wait to leave.

TW: traumatic birth story.

Just to recap my week (this is a long one:

Called in for induction Friday at 37 weeks for pre-eclampsia.

Get there, start cytotec. Takes 6 doses/24 hours to get to 1cm dilated.

Saturday: have the most traumatic, excruciating cervical check I’ve ever experienced in my life by an OB I’ve never met who spent almost 10 minutes digging around inside of me trying to insert the foley bulb to dilate further. Spend about 3 hours crying and having a panic attack after that.

Sunday: Foley falls out finally at like 3am. 4 cm dilated. Start pitocin. Get all the way up to 20 on pit for multiple hours with no progress. I barely even feel any contractions. Nurses are having trouble keeping baby on the monitor despite making me lay in the same position on my back for the better part of 8 hours. Same OB has to put in a fetal scalp electrode. I can’t handle the pain of her digging around in me this time so I have to get an epidural. After the placement they turn the pitocin up passed their “normal dose” up to 26. I make it 6cm after a few hours and my water breaks.

Monday: 1am and I’m still at 6cm. I start running a fever and having chills. Baby’s heart rate is unstable. I get rushed back for a c section. The OB doctor is on their 72nd hour or some shit in a row and makes sure to tell me for some reason that they are really exhausted and have been up for 3 days. I feel really reassured (sarcasm) and start making plans with my husband for what to do if I die in the few minutes before they wheel me away.

2am: baby is finally born and is okay but taken away to the NICU for chorio. The c section was as normally traumatic as any major surgery. I spend the rest of Monday completely out of it, puking my guts up with a fresh c section scar and missing my baby. I don’t get to see him at all because I cannot stop puking. I try to pump but get nothing because I have no fluids left in me.

Tuesday: I am finally able to get up and get out bed to go see the baby. I start pumping and trying to get him to latch but he’s under the bili lights and on a schedule and it’s hard because I am so rushed for time. I am barely pumping 3ml a session. He’s getting formula but he’s spitting up so much every feed. I’m still healing and I feel like shit. I can’t even have privacy to cry about this shitty ass week without a nurse walking in every hour trying to console me. I just want to be left alone to cry.

Wednesday: Now it’s today. I’m supposed to be allowed to go home. I just want to go home. The baby has been discharged since 9am but I can’t go over to get him until I am discharged. I can’t leave the room because I don’t want to miss the doctor. So yet again I am stuck here away from the baby.

So that’s the basics of my week. I think my favorite part is that that is not even the worst part. No, why would it be so easy. Because on top of all this, my in-laws flew in to “surprise us” and “help with the baby”. Yeah. Let me preface this by saying: this is not my husband’s fault. We both made the mistake of letting them know when the induction was. He didn’t know they were coming here at all and he’s been trying to balance telling them to fuck off and supporting me this whole time. They’ve been here since yesterday, blowing up my husband’s phone about when we’ll be home. He already sent them away from the hospital once. They are not helpful people. I know my MIL is just going to want to hold my baby that I haven’t been able to see since I birthed him. She’s not here to help. I can’t even begin to get into every issue we’ve had with them. I don’t want to talk to them. I don’t want to relive this week over and over. I don’t want people in my house when I can barely walk, barely piss, bleeding out of multiple holes and I have a wound vac on my stomach so I can’t wear pants even if I wanted to so everyone in the world gets to see my diaper. On top of having a new baby. I don’t want to do any of this. Now my husband gets to spend this week warding off his parents and arguing with them instead of worrying about what is already going on.

Oh and what did my own father have to say when I told him I had the baby? “Great, you can start losing weight now.” Thanks. I can’t even begin to process that.

I’m never talking to any of these people again. Truly. Everyone can get fucked.