My Last Pregnancy
1989
Before I knew I was pregnant we decided to go tobogganing as there had been a good snowfall overnight. It was a Sunday morning and we hoped to be among the first people on the hill. As it turned out we were the only ones on the hill and there was not a mark in the perfect snow, which got us all excited.
We had a long wooden toboggan onto which we five squeezed. I took the lead with three children behind me and Patrick taking up the rear. Off we went screaming our joy as we flew down the hill on our first run. What we didn’t realize was hidden beneath that pristine snow was a very large jump, all but invisible from the top of the hill. Suddenly and without warning we were airborne. With the toboggan in the air I lifted another a foot off its wooden surface only to come down hard on the cross brace and directly on my tailbone as we hit the ground. I fell off the toboggan and watched my family go sailing by, laughing all the way and unaware I had been hurt.
The pain was unbelievable as I lay there unable to move. Climbing up the hill they came to see if I was ok and helped me get back on my feet. Pain shooting through my body I realized I was done for the day. Although we had just started unfortunately that was the end of my tobogganing that day and for the rest of the winter. I was left with an injury which would take years to heal.
My new family doctor unfortunately did not believe I was injured. She felt the pain was something that would get better in a few days with some rest. A month later I went to see her again specifically to have a pregnancy test, which I already believed would be positive. I also explained I was still having issues with my lower back as the pain had not diminished. I wondered if it was possible to have broken or fractured a bone. Could this explain the fact it was not getting better. My pregnancy was confirmed, but she was adamant I had not broken any bones; it was just sore muscles, of course taking some time to heal. I was not to worry about it.
About three months into the pregnancy I was still experiencing a great deal of pain in my lower back and ribcage. With this extra bulk there was increased pressure on my ribs, causing difficulty breathing. Also I was not able to eat much at a time, the pain causing severe indigestion from colon spasms that forced me to lie down to find some relief. This in turn caused irregularity and eventually one morning I discovered blood in my stool. Although it turned out not to be serious all of these difficulties to me seemed directly related to the back injury occurring at the beginning of this pregnancy. On each of my regular visits to the doctor I raised my concern yet her response was always the same. Now at this late stage we would have to wait until the baby was born to do further testing. Nine months of avoiding the truth of my physical disability and another level of complication about to be laid upon it.
As my baby grew and started to kick the pain was very great. In fact when he kicked, I cried. My doctor did not seem to think this unusual, inferring I didn’t have much tolerance for pain. Having already had three children I was in a stronger position than she to know how a normal pregnancy felt. She had never given birth. In spite of not being able to eat much, every month I grew larger, gaining more than forty pounds by the end of term.
Patrick weighed over ten pounds at birth so I was of course concerned about the size of his child inside me. My doctor was not concerned for the baby or me, but in the end agreed to schedule an ultrasound when I was close to the delivery date. I had become concerned because of how much I had grown and the almost constant pain. The technician conducting the ultrasound told me they did not feel my baby was going to be as large as I feared. “Why?” I asked. “We generally go by your shoe size,” she replied. Being a size eight meant my baby would likely be around eight pounds. I did not need to worry about him being too large for a natural delivery. Everything looked fine in the ultrasound, no visible reasons for concern, so I had to believe they were telling me the truth. Why would they not?
Lucas was a week overdue. My water broke at home though I did not lose much fluid right away. When I got to the hospital they put me in the new birthing room which gave me privacy and quiet. The contractions were very painful and close together from the beginning, not giving me any relief in between. I chose to do the birthing as naturally as possible without drugs, but as time passed I started to believe the both of us would be lucky to survive. I could tell things were not right based on my three previous deliveries; these contractions were very strong and close together from the start, but I was not dilating as I should.
After most of the day had passed and still things were not improving, the doctor conferred with the nurse. Suddenly the fetal monitor became intermittent, and then…..silent. Realizing they must now act quickly or lose the child a hectic moment ensued followed by a quick decision stemming from near panic, the doctor ordering the nurse into position to perform an abdominal thrust. The nurse protested in concern for all involved, about to suggest an alternative when the doctor repeated her order in a louder voice, ending the command in, “NOW!” Having never heard of this procedure there was no way I could have been prepared for what was about to occur.
Without warning the nurse crossed her arms, leaned over my abdomen and with a deep knee bend and with all the force she could muster placed her entire body weight onto my abdomen and pressed forward with all her might, ejecting Lucas from the womb so quickly the doctor almost dropped him because of the speed with which he arrived. And me? There is no explanation I can offer for the the absolute and total excruciating pain I felt in that moment of his birth. Rising above, going where I couldn’t feel anything at all, I actually left my body.
I don’t know how long this experience of being outside myself lasted, for time slowed to nothing and I became only the sensation of not being present. I was above myself looking down on my body in the hospital bed. When I did return the pain nearly overwhelmed me, but looking over to where they had taken my son I saw he was dark purple and very bruised. I wasn’t sure he was even breathing.
I was paralyzed from the pain, and yet everyone seemed so happy, completely unaware of my total distress. Not even Patrick paid me attention, concerned for our son whose life was in danger. Immediately placing the oxygen mask over his mouth they watched in apprehension until he inhaled his first breath, Patrick leaning over to make certain he was alive. After cleaning and swaddling they brought him over for me to hold. Exhausted and pain making it difficult to move, the nurse had to place Lucas on my arm as I was unable to reach up for him. Was it relief on everyone’s part that stopped them from noticing my condition as they whisked Lucas away to register and weigh him? Although Patrick recorded the entire birth so a record does exist, it is something I will never have the courage to hear.
The force of his ejection through a birth canal too small for his large body to pass did me significant damage. The doctor now began to sew me back together, torn as I was from stem to stern. It required more than half an hour for her to finish the task. I was struggling to breathe and stay focused, praying for her to be done so I could find some comfort. I was ruined, absolutely exhausted! I was later to learn the reason for the emergency abdominal thrust was due to his wide shoulders making it difficult for him to travel far enough down the birth canal to stimulate a dilation response.
Now in my hospital bed they brought Lucas to me, proudly announcing he weighed in at 10 lbs, 11 3/4 oz. His body measurements were the same as my oldest son when he was three months old! The shoe size theory now officially out the window, I had been right to be concerned. It took many years to overcome the debilitating condition caused by this traumatic birth. For the years right through to high school Lucas suffered significant stress in certain situations, as well as extreme sensitivity to many lung conditions.
Early one morning a few months later I discovered just how misaligned my ribs were while resting in bed. I was lying on my back having just fed Lucas and passing him to Patrick. Resting my hand on my abdomen I could feel a bulge on my lower ribcage. As I gently explored the area I realized my ribs were dramatically sticking out…more than they were meant to. When I applied even the smallest amount of pressure the pain was intense.
I made a doctor’s appointment to hopefully find an answer, yet when I showed her how I could actually shake hands with these ribs, they were sticking that far out, she grabbed them roughly and gave them a wiggle without concern for the extreme discomfort she caused as I winced in pain. Maintaining her nonprofessional conduct it was her opinion no one is symmetrical and again, this was not something I should be concerned with. When I explained the great pain I was still in, asking if the difficult delivery could be the reason, she was taken aback, looking at me as if I had lost my senses. In a remarkable moment of arrogance she audaciously stated it was an easy delivery and she didn’t understand why I thought otherwise. I was too shocked to even respond, totally confused by her unwillingness to even consider the great pain I was in and I needed help.
She dismissed the problem, refusing to look any further into the matter. Now home again I was in tears most of that day from the pain of her rough and careless handling. Frustrated at not being able to find the answers I needed to return to my normal self I finally took matters into my own hands.
Not only was I unable to get a proper night’s sleep, I suffered daily from severe migraines. At the suggestion of my sister-in-law, Renee, I contacted the physiotherapy clinic at McMahon Stadium in Calgary, This is the health care team for the Calgary Stampeder Football club.
Unravelling the correct procedure in order to obtain an appointment with this physiotherapist I had to return to my doctor for a referral and also obtain a recent x-ray. While visiting my doctor I pressed her for taking an X-ray of my ribs and spine. She was very irate with me for being so bold as to question her ability, effectively cutting her out of the picture. After yelling at her receptionist with the order to book the exam, she then stormed into her office slamming the door behind her.
For the first time in many years I felt empowered to stand up for my right to receive better medical care. To be heard and taken seriously was all I had ever asked. This doctor had managed to drag out the entire affair for almost an entire year of pointless suffering.
In a final act of misfortune, the first therapist I visited did not accurately diagnose my condition and started me on a series of exercises. She was not completely responsible for this misdiagnosis, as I would later find out on my return visit to the referring specialist.
After the first seven sessions realizing I was getting worse, not better, she encouraged me to make an appointment with the specialist for another assessment. Upon my return visit and explaining my situation the specialist was still unwilling to change her recommendation that would allow me to see a different therapist. After months of not being able to sleep, being in constant pain, and having no help with the daily chores connected to raising a family of four children, I could not help myself and broke down and cried, unable to take any more. Her unwillingness to accept I was in serious pain and discomfort made me feel invisible, without a voice. Helpless.
Slowly realizing we were unlikely to allow this mistake to continue, she softened somewhat and relented, giving me the long sought referral to a specialty physiotherapist in downtown Calgary. Hoping to make the most of these last three visits, I made the appointment. As it turned out, to date no one had actually looked at my X-rays. It seemed to me this new doctor had not really taken me seriously either; she was just placating me. It seems reasonable to state she was silently supporting my family doctor’s initial theory I was overstating my condition….and delaying any resolution on my file to ensure a year had transpired from my initial visit with this complaint.
My son was almost a year old by the time I was able to get into see the new physiotherapist. Once she had done her assessment and viewed the x-rays she could barely suppress her anger at how I had been treated, the length of time taken to arrive here making my conditions worse. She explained I should not have been doing any of the exercises previously prescribed; they had caused more damage and significantly set back my healing.
At this time Lucas weighed almost thirty pounds and was growing very fast. She told me I should not have been lifting anything over ten pounds from the time of his birth! Her first priority was to put me on ‘the rack’ to stretch my spine, something I would be required to do on each visit. Although she was restricted by time, she did as much as she could during those last three sessions. I was extremely grateful for her help, consideration, and compassion for what I had been through. At long last I was becoming visible.
After the physiotherapy sessions expired I engaged a reputable chiropractor, an alternative form of treatment covered by healthcare, also at a reduced rate. Thus I was able to engage continued medical assistance to further my healing.
This chiropractor was incredibly gentle and kind, taking great care to relieve me of pain. He took new X-rays to determine which areas of my spine were misaligned, and it was he who discovered my neck was actually curved backwards instead of forward, as he explained it, likely from the whiplash I experienced in an automobile accident years earlier and the cause of my extreme migraines. The iridologist had identified my protruding ribs as a major concern and the chiropractor was able to move them back into place. I would not be lying to say this was one of the most painful experiences I have ever endured, similar to the abdominal thrust at the birth of Lucas.
In the final analysis I had two ruptured disks, my sacrum and spine were twisted, my neck vertebrae were curved in the opposed position, three ribs and my tailbone were dislocated. Little wonder I had suffered so much for so long!
At some point along the way it occurred to me why there had been so much pain from the abdominal thrust. With my ribs out of place the added pressure of literally jumping on my stomach would have been overwhelming. How fortunate Lucas and I were to not be more seriously injured, the threat to both our lives perhaps greater than I realized.
Unfortunately, getting my ribs back into place after so long didn’t mean they would stay in place. The muscles holding everything in wrong alignment had grown strong and they would easily pop out. This took many years to finally resolve with the assistance of a rib belt worn after each realignment. Slowly they regained stability in their proper position. The healing process is long and if I am honest I would say I am still dealing with this issue from the scar tissue built up from the initial injury…and from the traumatic birthing experience.
Understanding with clarity the circumstances of my experience, I could now give myself permission to be more compassionate and forgiving of myself. I had felt throughout that difficult time I was not very strong and so was ashamed I could not better handle the situation. It was wrong to undervalue myself in this way and not take credit for the strength I had needed just to survive the experience. Without qualified professional help to assist me during these years I learned to turn off the pain in order to somehow continue to function as a mother and a wife.
The migraines were often so strong they made me vomit, preventing me from doing even the simplest of tasks. My vision was impaired due to the blind spots, sometimes for most of the day. I would eventually find relief late in the day only to have them return through the night or the very next morning. Lucas was about twelve when I finally managed to stop the headaches through a combination of running, natural medicine, and a cleansing diet. I rarely get them now and they usually don’t last more than a few hours. I found by dealing directly with the cause, eliminating as much as possible the chemicals prominently found in perfumes, air fresheners, laundry soap, cleaning products, shampoo, as well as the many preservatives in food, has been highly effective.
I must add that during this period Patrick was of little to no help, often abandoning me while he spent time in his “man cave”. I cried often as he could go days, even weeks without speaking to me or acknowledging my presence. As someone who had spend time in severe isolation as a child, this was indeed the worst form of punishment for me, diminishing my spirit to almost nothing. I felt quite sure I had made a serious mistake in marrying him. Had I not given him so much financial help, when we first met I would have perhaps been in better position to leave him. A single woman with 4 young children, no family and no recent work experience may still have been a healthier situation for all of us. Fear, which is a terrible master, as well as the debilitating pain kept me from leaving, his ability to make me feel worthless overpowering at times. Our relationship was one of punishment/reward which becomes a prison of its own making.
Lucas just after birth, almost black the shade of purple so dark. She is about to give him oxygen.
Lucas getting cleaned up and ready for me to hold.
Lucas getting weighed, my beautiful big boy.
It was during this difficult in time dealing with the physical injuries, combined with issues regarding my family and the complications of my previous marriage, that Fudge, my beautiful lop-eared rabbit hopped into my life. She was such an amazing gift with her gentle loving nature and her desire to be close. She gave me great comfort when the world seemed too cruel to comprehend. How wonderful it is to be in the company of a non-judgmental being and just relax into the moment. How can I ever thank her enough for her gift?
Fudge and Chester who we found in a nearby park. They became fast friends.
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