My labour was not straightforward, nor it seems was my time in the recovery room.

I remember being wheeled into the recovery room after BF and little one were escorted a minute ahead of me as panic flooded me of being alone. Throughout the whole birth BF had been my rock. Every time he had to leave my side, even if to just to get some water or scrub up for surgery, I can remember as the same was for this moment.

After being reunited with my two favourite people in the world everything goes blurry or non-existent in what I can remember for the next few hours. I was left to rest.

There are one or two moments that I do remember – one being having little one in my arms and telling BF that I knew what her name should be. Throughout the whole pregnancy we hadn’t decided and had always agreed that we would wait until she was born in case the name that we choose before hand didn’t suit her.

BF the whole time had fallen in love with a name and while I had liked it as a middle name I wasn’t convinced for it being her first name. When she was in my arms though everything changed. That name suddenly was the only one that felt right and no other name would do. It was in that brief moment that I remember looking down on my daughter and knowing what her name would be.

The other moment I am not sure when it happened but it did involve BF turning on his phone. He talked about people messaging him and then suddenly talking to his phone and flashing the screen at our sleeping little baby before leaving the room to continue talking via video chat to someone.

The Recovery RoomI later found out that his mum had messaged him minutes before asking what was up. Apparently she was convinced something was up. She was right and so BF automatically video called her back so she was the first one to see our little one.

A few hours later I woke up and I started remembering things. This was both a good and a bad thing. I remember constantly looking over and seeing the little person that I had created and feeling so happy. The labour was over and done. While the agony of labour had stopped the recovery pains were just starting.

Having had a a c-section you might think that the pain I was referring to was from having my stomach ripped open, that is what the nurse thought, but in truth it was my back. It turns out that I reacted to the tape that they used on my back for the epidural. BF was passed out and I broke down into tears. I was tired, hungry and my back felt like it was on fire – it didn’t help that I was lying back on it and strapped down with all the tubes and things still coming out of me. When a nurse came around hearing the cries she told me that I couldn’t have any more pain relief and rushed off.

BF woke up from the tears and when he found out that my back felt like it was burning, he tried to get help. Again and again he was told “We’ll get someone to you right away” and yet never did. Finally he grabbed some paper towels from a midwife’s cart, covered them in water and put them on my back. It was finally some relief on my back.

It still didn’t help that we were left in the recovery room for hours. Neither of us had eaten or slept for over 30 hours by the time BF outright demanded that we got help.

“My partner is in tears from the pain, exhaustion and hunger – you will help her now!”

This was what finally got us the attention. It was at that point that the nurse found out that we hadn’t been given any food, water or help. With me crying in pain over my back, I was gently tilted forward as far as they could without pulling out any of the tubes. Even then my back was red and the nurse told us it looked like I may have had a slight reaction to the tape.

It wasn’t until then that we found out that I had lost a lot of blood yet due to my high iron levels and other factors that I hadn’t needed a blood transfusion. This may have been a contributing factor to why we were left in the recovery room so long but with everything else that happened it wasn’t just that. It seems that due to the timing of my c-section that I came out between shift changes so got left and forgotten about.

BF tracking down that nurse and demanding help prompted her realising that I should have been sent down to the post-delivery unit hours before. Before I was sent down she managed to get me some slices of toast but that was it.

After eating the toast and more paper towels, this time added by the nurse, were added to my back, we were finally moved downstairs. It was 1am when we were finally moved back down to level 12. That meant that we had been left in recovery for over 7 hours!

As it was so late, the other couple on the ward were fast asleep and there were no more reclining seats left for BF. This meant that BF yet again had to sleep on the floor.

Our time in recovery was not an easy one, much like the birth. Hopefully others don’t suffer a similar fate as it was horrible feeling so left and alone. We were finally out of there though and on the path to recovery and leaving.

Did you end up in the recovery room long? What was your experience? Leave a comment below.

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Annabelle has lived in Exeter, Bournemouth and London but now live in Brighton as a freelancer. With a love of baking, sewing and social media, she is now starting her own blog.


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