In the United States, over 700 women lose their lives each year due to complications arising from pregnancy, with two-thirds of these tragedies being preventable. I was blissfully unaware of this alarming statistic until I nearly became one of those unfortunate numbers myself.
Life can throw unexpected challenges your way. The day when I almost bled to death is etched into my memory forever, and it took me a long time to come to terms with that frightening experience. In 2016, I was pregnant with my second child. Following a C-section with my first, my doctor recommended a C-section for my second as well. We scheduled the procedure for November 9, 2016. That morning, everything seemed to go smoothly as we made our way to the hospital, eager to welcome our new addition.
At 7:04 AM, the doctor announced, “It’s a girl!” The moment we learned our second child was a daughter was filled with joy. We named her Clara. She was a healthy eight and a half pounds, and my recovery began.
Once settled in my private room, my recovery nurse arrived and inquired about my pain level. I explained that it felt more intense than what I remembered from my first C-section. After checking my blood pressure, she mentioned they would soon bring Clara to me. While waiting, I chatted with my husband and watched TV. As time passed, I began to express to my husband that the pain was escalating and felt far worse than my previous experience. He was supportive, but there was little he could do to relieve my discomfort.
When the nurse returned, she asked me to rate my pain on a scale from one to ten. I stated that it was at least a ten, possibly more. I told her I had a high tolerance for pain, but this was unbearable. She reassured me that every C-section was unique, and the pain could be more intense during the second surgery. After checking my uterus, she said it was contracting normally before leaving, promising to return shortly. Despite her reassurances, I felt deep down that something wasn’t right.
When they brought Clara to me, it was a magical moment. She latched on to breastfeed like a natural, and for about twenty minutes, I savored that connection, even amid the pain. Afterward, Clara was taken back to the nursery, and I began talking to my husband. That’s when everything took a terrifying turn.
Suddenly, I hunched over in bed, feeling extreme cramping. It felt as if my insides were tearing apart, and within moments, my bed was soaked with blood. Panic washed over me. In a daze, I watched my husband frantically seek help. My primary nurse rushed in, looking alarmed and confused, which only heightened my fear. Soon, I was surrounded by nearly ten nurses, and the situation felt surreal, almost like a scene from a medical drama.
Then, I heard a voice say, “Hi, I’m Laura, the head nurse.” She took my hand and assured me, “I’m going to take care of you, but it’s going to hurt.” As she began examining me, I screamed in pain, biting my husband’s arm as I struggled to cope with the agony. He kept whispering encouraging words, but all I could feel was the intense suffering. Laura’s arm came out covered in blood, and she shouted for a doctor, realizing the severity of my hemorrhaging.
Minutes passed that felt like an eternity as I wrestled with my thoughts amidst the pain. “I might die today. Is this really happening? Do they know what they’re doing?” Images of my family flickered in my mind, blending with the warmth of the room and the overwhelming pain.
Finally, my doctor arrived. Relief surged through me as if I had just spotted a long-awaited gift on Christmas morning. He took my hand and said, “Don’t worry; I’ll take care of you. You need to go under anesthesia again. When you wake up, everything will be fine.” My husband was told to wait outside. I managed to tell him I loved him before slipping into unconsciousness.
When I awoke, I felt a profound sense of gratitude. “I’m still here! Thank you, everyone! Thank you, God!” My husband greeted me with relief in his voice, asking how I felt. Although the pain was gone, I wasn’t sure if it was due to the anesthesia or if everything had been fixed. My doctor later informed me that although the surgery had gone well, I had lost a lot of blood and would need a transfusion.
The transfusion lasted about eight hours, during which I received blood from strangers who unknowingly helped save my life. This experience transformed my perspective on blood donation.
Moreover, my relationship with my husband deepened. Facing the prospect of losing time together made every moment precious. He even helped me manage my recovery, doing things I couldn’t do on my own. When I passed a significant blood clot and there was no nurse around, he put on gloves and retrieved it, determined to act quickly. This ordeal brought us closer together in ways I never imagined.
Seeing my daughters after everything was sobering. I was grateful to return home to them but troubled by how close I had come to losing them. The days that followed were challenging; I was limited in my activities and emotionally spent. I struggled to discuss my experience for weeks, navigating a whirlwind of emotions from shock to joy and despair. Eventually, sharing my story with family and friends became a form of therapy.
How Does Facing Death Change You?
I learned how to pray that day. It shifted my focus away from trivial worries. I discovered the importance of relaxation—not just sitting still, but finding quiet moments to breathe deeply and appreciate life. “Count your blessings” became a mantra, not merely a phrase.
Later, I found out that the nurse assigned to me had only been practicing for six months. It was her first experience managing a non-contracting uterus. I owe my life to Laura, who took command of the situation when it mattered most, and to my doctor, whose presence brought comfort in my darkest hour.
In a life-and-death scenario, you quickly recognize how much is beyond your control. This experience has transformed me, and my husband learned the same lesson. We must let go and trust the process.
Did you know that the maternal mortality rate in the United States continues to rise? It has been increasing since 1990. This is my story, and I am thankful to be here. Ladies, advocate for yourselves and voice your concerns when something feels amiss. You know your body best; if you don’t stand up for yourself, who will? For more insights on pregnancy and home insemination, consider checking out excellent resources like this one.
Summary
The author recounts a harrowing childbirth experience where they nearly died from complications after a C-section. Amidst the pain and fear, the support of medical staff and loved ones proved crucial in overcoming the crisis. The ordeal strengthened relationships and changed the author’s perspective on life and health.